<?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-2892601639936705099</id><updated>2012-01-17T23:31:11.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let your clarity define you</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-7108938632927498641</id><published>2012-01-02T15:44:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T16:02:46.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things for the New Year</title><content type='html'>Doing my annual clean out everything and I realized that my love for post notes is much bigger than I thought.  I have found dozens with artists, songs and quotes in all of my filing.  So in order to get rid of the colorful pile I have accumulated over the years I thought I would just share them here.  Things to think about, to live by, to learn from and for a new year.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Through adversity character is born."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Living is not the same as making a life"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Life always gives you a second chance"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Always do something with an open heart - it is usually the right decision"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"It is wonderful to be needed and great to need and be able to say to someone 'I need' "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"To keep hidden, to lose you because of self defeating ideas is to die.  Don't let that happen."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Where ever you are, love where you are as it all starts there"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own, after all today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Your heart tells you what the mind cannot explain"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"People will forget what you said, forget what you did but will never forget how you made them feel"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You can choose to blame your circumstance or fate or bad luck or bad choices or you can fight back.  Things are not always going to be fair in the real world, that is just the way it is.  But for the most part you get what you give.  Let me ask you a questions - what is worse not getting everything you wished for? Or getting it and realizing it is not enough?  The rest of your life is being shaped right now by the dreams you chase and the choices you make and the person you decide to be.  The rest of your life is a long time and the rest of your life starts right now."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~Cheers!&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/2892601639936705099-7108938632927498641?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/7108938632927498641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=7108938632927498641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/7108938632927498641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/7108938632927498641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2012/01/things-for-new-year.html' title='Things for the New Year'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-7317621010226350628</id><published>2011-11-15T21:36:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T21:50:48.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a few observations</title><content type='html'>I tell you some weeks don't have anything and then some weeks it is like everything happens all at once.  Here are some highlights of the past 2 days in my life.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;General Observations:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night I ask Nick what he wants for Christmas and he states "binoculars, cuff links and a remote control helicopter".  Pretty sure my brother is a spy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I passed 2 old men in an old Buick wearing cowboy hats and had a collection of beanie babies in the back window of the car.....and that is how you know I work in Tooele.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gym Observations:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I run further when my treadmill is in German.  I don't know how it got to that language but at least the 2 a/days are interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I no longer make fun of those that come to the gym in jeans...I mean really, that is some dedication to work out no matter what you wear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think that girls wash their bras as much as the should.  I am pretty sure that the lady next to me in the yellow bra....hasn't washed hers maybe ever.  Maybet the color isn't even really yellow to begin with....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have determined that if I am going to run long distances I pretty much only want to listen to Eminem.  And for abs I just want to hear Jay-Z.  I don't know why my but I tend to do more if that is my play list.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, this is what I think about and notice when I go to the gym.  Jealous?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-7317621010226350628?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/7317621010226350628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=7317621010226350628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/7317621010226350628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/7317621010226350628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/11/just-few-observations.html' title='Just a few observations'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-7320613477622123226</id><published>2011-10-22T00:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T00:16:11.049-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovin' the Walmart</title><content type='html'>Picture this:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11:30pm at the local/slightly ghetto Walmart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am in line with 2 very "classy" girls on their way to a club.  My guess they are in the age range of 17-19 in the most random clothing I have ever seen and no, it is NOT a costume.  As I am standing in line listening to them talk about their night ahead of them wearing bright colored animal print tight spandex dresses and shenanigans,  I notice that the purchase they are buying is gum and a "buty" which if you don't know (which I did not) is a pair of underwear with padding to give you a bigger butt.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 questions:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  I am pretty sure that last I checked girls were trying to decrease the size not increase...did I miss something?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  Why on earth is the poor girl putting a buty and gum on a credit card!  I mean going in to debt for a big but and good breathe??  REALLY?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then I look down at my purchases&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cat food and vitamins&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At what point did I become the lady buying pet food in a cardigan and jeans while the 18 year olds are plotting their night on the town?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have never felt older.  AND I have never been more okay with being older than that moment at the ghetto Walmart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-7320613477622123226?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/7320613477622123226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=7320613477622123226' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/7320613477622123226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/7320613477622123226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/10/lovin-walmart.html' title='Lovin&apos; the Walmart'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-5589467325640912343</id><published>2011-10-05T20:24:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T20:44:06.731-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Embracing the madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1nlvyS_QJ6g/To0T4OXlSbI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ctg-BvGIdcU/s1600/P1000705.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: right;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1nlvyS_QJ6g/To0T4OXlSbI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ctg-BvGIdcU/s400/P1000705.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660202163325192626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mThbDpz7n_Q/To0Tb1LL90I/AAAAAAAAAEg/YV7ncoRXk2E/s1600/mark.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 191px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mThbDpz7n_Q/To0Tb1LL90I/AAAAAAAAAEg/YV7ncoRXk2E/s320/mark.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660201675525977922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever have those days that you think “I want a do over”….where you want to go back to bed and pretend that this day never happened and start all over…well, welcome to my day.  I have to say for the most part I find humor in pretty much everything I do…for example….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week…I wore a “fashion forward” shirt with a zipper in the back and this is the response I got...Mark wearing/posing in his shirt backwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got a voice mail that said “Eiko, if you know who this number is and you think it is worth your time you should call me and se should hang out…” Let start with this.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;1. If you are not one of the 500 contacts in my phone I am going with you are not someone &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I want to talk to…in fact if you are not in my phone I don’t even want to screen you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;2. I think I know who this guy is and to be quite honest I am pretty sure I my exact words &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;when we hung up were “Never going to happen”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;3. If you are not man enough to apologize or even have the guts to leave your name…why &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;bother? Do you really think I will call?  Weird.  Again, never going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today…man talk about a perfect storm.  So I decided to get the most out of the early Fall and the last bit of summer and so I wore some sweet platform Aldo shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;1. Just because they are platform contrary to what people think they are NOT “stripper &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;shoes”…there is no clear plastic heels, glitter or anything that would lead you to believe they &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;are used for that purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;2. I do not use the stairs at work because my shoes are so high that I am afraid I might fall. &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;For good reason.  Today, when walking down the stairs…oh yeah that is right I fell.  Made a &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;huge noise and walked away with a few bruises.  Elevator = yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I get this text (see above)…oh boys….where do I start? First, last I heard you were asking me...but okay.  How about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;1. I am happy to make time to go out.  But you are the boy who asked to go out and just &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;because you can not man up enough to make a plan….do not send me these messages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;2. Clearly the past 2 weeks this has been weighing on your mind.  Crap.  That random guy at &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;SBK was right, apparently I CAN take away happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;3. I apologize for not making a plan….what can I say I did not understand that that is what &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;you were expecting me to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I think it is nice and cool outside so I will go for a run….remember that fall with my sweet shoes at work? Well my knee is a little swollen and it actually hurt when I tried to run….so home I went.  Yes, I totally girl'd out and didn't run because it hurt....I'm okay with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally I get home and realize that in a moment to do more with my time I have turned off my cable. Awesome.  Because tonight is the one time that you love your TV and watching anything to escape the day.    But that is okay because I think to myself…why don’t you just man up and work out the pain.  So on the treadmill I go….2 miles in the damn thing just shut off.  I am not the type to even begin to pretend to know how to fix this…crap maybe I should have planned something with Nate or called that other dude back and they could have aided in the repair of my treadmill. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But don’t worry….I can roll with the punches.  I have rediscovered Hulu…this day may be salvageable yet.  Jealous of my life yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*side note…not all boys are lame…you know who you are.&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/2892601639936705099-5589467325640912343?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/5589467325640912343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=5589467325640912343' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/5589467325640912343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/5589467325640912343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/10/embracing-madness.html' title='Embracing the madness'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1nlvyS_QJ6g/To0T4OXlSbI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ctg-BvGIdcU/s72-c/P1000705.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-6255321270517546384</id><published>2011-06-28T09:54:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T19:32:01.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that people say that makes me laugh out loud</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In my daily adventures of life, people say things out loud that make me laugh....and I have and will continue to collect them....enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I used to work at Pizza Hut delivery, not braggin' just saying'"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Shut the door...twice...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"I am freaking GOOD, not braggin' just sayin'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"I can't hear you with your clothes on"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Hola, I am Michael Jackson"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I don't take pictures in the bathroom mirror, wear my hat backwards or wear anything with dragons or wings or Ed Hardy.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Po' kids can't buy other po' kids ponies"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Buy me a pony!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Clearly I have an attention span"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"Shut up and be beautiful"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: normal;"&gt;"No, standing as close to me as you can, will not make me move faster&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"&gt;"Mexicans and Lesbians ---those are my people"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size:small;"&gt;More to come.....&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/2892601639936705099-6255321270517546384?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/6255321270517546384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=6255321270517546384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/6255321270517546384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/6255321270517546384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/06/things-that-people-say-that-makes-me.html' title='Things that people say that makes me laugh out loud'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-3608340214079029005</id><published>2011-06-08T20:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T20:37:04.305-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Prison Mix Vol. 25</title><content type='html'>My sister in law Corina has been making me CD mixes for over 10 years.  The CD's used to be labeled "CD for Eiko" with statements like 'God Bless America' all over it. As the years went by the names got more and more creative with titles like "Gettin' it on Music", "SF Mix" and my favorite "Eiko's Prison Mix" and fun fact these CD's come in various volumes.  So an example would be my "Prison Mix" which is volume #25 and no I do not own volume #1-24, only volume #25.  I know, I am truly blessed to have this gem in my life. So part 2 of the story.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been driving my Mom's car for a week while mine was in the shop and so I took this as an opportunity to put in some CD's that I recently found.  One of which was SF Mix '07 volume 14 (side note I do have 3-4 volumes of SF mixes volumes 3, 27 and 9).  Now as I am driving in my Mom's convertible with the top down, listening to my mix LOUDLY in traffic I  notice that this new song sounds familiar but wait....who is that singing?...oh that is right Paris Hilton and her one hit wonder.  Now was it embarrassing that this was blaring loudly from the car in rush hour traffic, yes, but more embarrassing I was singing along.  Remember that scene in "Office Space" where he is rapping in his car and then turns it down.....yah, it was like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-3608340214079029005?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/3608340214079029005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=3608340214079029005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/3608340214079029005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/3608340214079029005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/06/prison-mix-vol-25.html' title='Prison Mix Vol. 25'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-4833758442003867506</id><published>2011-06-07T23:19:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T23:35:31.904-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Marathon Sleeper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GL2U8UfEbr8/Te8Gonrjd6I/AAAAAAAAAEY/ZYIsy1aDaxM/s1600/mail.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GL2U8UfEbr8/Te8Gonrjd6I/AAAAAAAAAEY/ZYIsy1aDaxM/s400/mail.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615714555270494114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine recently referred to me as a "marathon sleeper" and to be fair it is a fairly accurate description of me.  I think if I were to be addicted to anything I would be okay if it was sleep and I had great dreams all the time and of course that I didn't miss out on my life by doing so...and seeing as none of these things will be I will stick to being a marathon sleeper for the time being.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to defend myself a bit, I will not sleep in past 10am unless I am completely and totally exhausted.  I feel that I have to make a contribution to the world or at least my life and so I get up fairly early all the time and get going.  I will however stop mid-day and take a nap, any day and any time.  I LOVE taking naps.  I wish I would have jumped on that band wagon when I was younger, but no I decided that nap time was a time to practice my jail breaking skills and push out the screen and crawl out the window well to play outside with my dolls.  What can I say, I don't like to be told what to do.  In fact if you are wanting me to do something your best bet is to pretend like it was my idea.  My poor Mom, someone should have clued her in on that one.  I believe it took awhile to figure out all of my escape routes through out the years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know what you are wondering, why is there a picture of a cat?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the story, I recently got a kitten, Lulu.  My family is big on pets and everyone has a cat except for me and seeing as they are fairly low maintenance and self sufficient I felt that it was a great fit to my life style and way more entertaining than the alternative; fish or plants.  I have had Lulu about 2 weeks at this point and I ADORE her and I find her completely enjoyable to observe as her curiosity grows.  But even though I am absolutely in love with her I am also in love with my sleep.  And so, as I did with my dog, I have trained her that bed time is at 11 pm every night and that she goes to her actual bed and goes to sleep.  I am not kidding when I tell you that I am a bit of an animal whisperer when it comes to sleep time.  Both of my wonderful pets know what I mean when I say sleep time, both go to their beds and both will stay there until I wake up.  Only down side is they are also both grumpy if you wake them up before they are ready ANd if you can believe they both get moody when I don't go to bed on time and I keep them up.  Amazing.  I know.  It totally amazes me as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-4833758442003867506?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/4833758442003867506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=4833758442003867506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4833758442003867506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4833758442003867506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/06/marathon-sleeper.html' title='Marathon Sleeper'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GL2U8UfEbr8/Te8Gonrjd6I/AAAAAAAAAEY/ZYIsy1aDaxM/s72-c/mail.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-7182586028844822358</id><published>2011-05-25T20:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T20:17:31.710-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I believe</title><content type='html'>May we resolve from this day forward to fill our hearts with love. May we go the extra mile to include in our lives any who are lonely or downhearted or who are suffering in any way. May we “[cheer] up the sad and [make] someone feel glad.”11 May we live so that when that final summons is heard, we may have no serious regrets, no unfinished business, but will be able to say with the Apostle Paul, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Behold ye are little children and ye cannot bear all things now ye must grow in grace and in the knowledge of the truth.  Fear not little children fro you are mine and I have overcome the world, and you are of them that my Father have given me” DC 50:40-41&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love with everything inside of you, risk it all, go all in, love your life, EVERY moment, every detail, every breathe you breathe good and bad.  It will all work out in the end.  Stand tall.  Stand true.  Stay hungry.  Stay foolish.  Relish in the moments that make your life worth living.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learn to forgive, practice patience, do what you can with what you have, never doubt yourself….believe in who you are, what you can do and who you CAN and WILL become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Energy and persistence overcome all things” Benjamin Franklin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-7182586028844822358?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/7182586028844822358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=7182586028844822358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/7182586028844822358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/7182586028844822358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/05/things-i-believe.html' title='Things I believe'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-4380783517844192538</id><published>2011-05-18T19:49:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T20:23:02.190-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to teach 5th grade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6IP43EcQmWo/TdR9m7SfXRI/AAAAAAAAAEM/63-0ewAATM4/s1600/Unknown.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6IP43EcQmWo/TdR9m7SfXRI/AAAAAAAAAEM/63-0ewAATM4/s400/Unknown.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608245543686855954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things that I could say about this one statement.  Let me paint you a quick picture of my day, first of all I wake up on time, get ready and am out the door in record time for my 8 o'clock meeting.  I even remembered my laptop, which has been the latest victim in the things Eiko leaves behind game.  As I am driving, not speeding because I am so on time, I think to myself, while singing to OneRepublic "Good Life" (yes, out loud and yes, I can both think and sing at the same time.  I know what you are thinking.  Pure Talent. I thought that too.), "today is a great day, I am stoked to get everything done today and I feel on top of things for next week.  This is fantastic......"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 3 hours and this appears on my work Facebook page "Eiko Espiritu has ruined my happiness".  Good bye great day.  Hello nightmare.  Now, I know to most of you the fact that I did not post back some comment along the lines of" wow, if I am in charge of your happiness you have bigger problems than with the fact that I ruined it for you" is a small miracle. It seems that in my adult life or more accurately semi adult life I have begun to create a filter for these situations. Consequently I posted nothing. Shocking. I know.  The boring part of the story, blah, blah, blah, work, legal, work, legal blah....end of day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have a new found friend who teaches 5th grade.  And while driving home he and I are talking about my new powers of controlling happiness via Facebook, while he interjects funny stories about his students.  One of which is in charge of waking himself up, which means that he is late daily to class.  And the best part is this little boy stole my friends happiness at 8:45 am.  At which point I feel grateful at the fact that I didn't have that feeling until about 11 am.  Point of my story is this.  My job is fun.  However, it is full of 35 - 50 year old males who when they do not get there way act like 16 year old girls.  Which then makes me want to rethink my career path.  And I know in the past I have struggled with being a good example to children, however in this case I would have rather struggled through a day of 5th grade or hell been a 5th grader for a day just to avoid the debacle that started as my perfect day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**side note** This "man" will meet me face to face next Friday.  I am so EXCITED to shake his hand and ask him if he is happy!  And he wants to volunteer at the track?! What is wrong with this person?  Perhaps I will just drop kick him when I see him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-4380783517844192538?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/4380783517844192538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=4380783517844192538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4380783517844192538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4380783517844192538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-want-to-teach-5th-grade.html' title='I want to teach 5th grade'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6IP43EcQmWo/TdR9m7SfXRI/AAAAAAAAAEM/63-0ewAATM4/s72-c/Unknown.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-8798238415874174734</id><published>2011-05-17T22:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T22:17:20.823-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes life is like magic...</title><content type='html'>"See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, for God’s sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and youth, and because the magic we knew made them ashamed and sad of what they’d allowed to wither in themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After you go so far away from it, though, you can’t really get it back. You can have seconds of it. Just seconds of knowing and remembering. When people get weepy at movies, it’s because in that dark theater the golden pool of magic is touched, just briefly. Then they come out into the hard sun of logic and reason again and it dries up, and they’re left feeling a little heartsad and not knowing why. When a song stirs a memory, when motes of dust turning in a shaft of light takes your attention from the world, when you listen to a train passing on a track at night in the distance and wonder where it might be going, you step beyond who you are and where you are. For the briefest of instants, you have stepped into the magic realm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s what I believe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. People get in wrecks and get crippled. People lose their way, for one reason or another. It’s not hard to do, in this world of crazy mazes. Life itself does its best to take that memory of magic away from us. You don’t know it’s happening until one day you feel you’ve lost something but you’re not sure what it is. It’s like smiling at a pretty girl and she calls you “sir.” It just happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These memories of who I was and where I lived are important to me. They make up a large part of who I’m going to be when my journey winds down. I need the memory of magic if I am ever going to conjure magic again. I need to know and remember, and I want to tell you." &lt;br /&gt;— Robert R. McCammon (Boy's Life)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-8798238415874174734?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/8798238415874174734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=8798238415874174734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/8798238415874174734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/8798238415874174734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/05/sometimes-life-is-like-magic.html' title='Sometimes life is like magic...'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-4308526083630690274</id><published>2011-05-08T21:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T22:00:26.585-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is that guy??</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I make myself laugh out loud.  So, had this guy message me on facebook and I looked at his photo and I thought....how do I know him??  Here is what I then realized.  I had lunch with him once, forever ago and he drove a red Dodge Neon, and when I told my friend RS about it her response was "what is he a 16 year old girl?".....and that right there is why she and I are friends.  So, when I am looking at his name and trying to remember how I know him I hear her saying that.  LOL. I would post his photo for all to enjoy, but that is just mean.  Ahhh...these are the moments that make my life fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-4308526083630690274?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/4308526083630690274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=4308526083630690274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4308526083630690274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4308526083630690274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/05/who-is-that-guy.html' title='Who is that guy??'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-5597992617336408433</id><published>2011-05-08T09:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T09:51:30.857-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cupcakes?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rfmjwubTy4Q/Tca7kCgbMxI/AAAAAAAAAEE/wL5AtQgw3KU/s1600/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 219px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rfmjwubTy4Q/Tca7kCgbMxI/AAAAAAAAAEE/wL5AtQgw3KU/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604373014131716882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So living in the industrial part of SLC does not hold as many random stories as the good ol' Aves.  And apparently my brain has decided that it can create random stories all on it's own.  For the past week I have been having the strangest dreams.  I can't decide if I am sleep deprived or if I am silently going crazy.  I actually think that I am running so fast that at night is when my sub-conscience gets to catch up.  So, these dreams...well they are all over the map and mostly about things that I don't want to forget to do (unplug my curling iron, make my bed, wear a certain pair of shoes etc.) to the most random things that are not even on my radar, or at least I thought.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should preface this with one time at band camp, okay well not a band camp, but one time, a sweet friend of mine was having some sort of party and I asked if I could bring anything.  She says to me "oh yah can you bring an apple spice bunt cake".  I reached out my hand and said "Hi, I am Eiko, I don't own a bunt pan and I don't even know what you are talking about".  Lesson here is that I can buy you something but I most likely will not be making it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today is Mothers Day and I am meeting up with my Mom and grandma.  My Mom must have had a lapse in remembering who Eiko is because she says to me, maybe you can bring cupcakes.  Yah, pretty sure I don't even have a cupcake pan. Checking. Confirmed. I do not own one.  Mom meet Eiko, your daughter who does not bake, I thought we covered this through the years.  Well let's get to the dream part....so last night....I dreamt that I was supposed to bring cupcakes to some function (thank you Mom).  The dream was the most random search for cupcakes, all over town, in all sorts of stores, completely stressed out that I could not find these damn cupcakes.  This dream lasted all night.  At no point did my brain think, oh I can make these and save myself the stress.  No, that literally was never a solution.  All I can say about that is at least my brain knows me well enough to know that I would go on a state wide search for cupcakes before resorting to baking.  On some level I am okay with this and on some level I feel bad for my future children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-5597992617336408433?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/5597992617336408433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=5597992617336408433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/5597992617336408433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/5597992617336408433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/05/cupcakes.html' title='Cupcakes?'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rfmjwubTy4Q/Tca7kCgbMxI/AAAAAAAAAEE/wL5AtQgw3KU/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-5484876564673193381</id><published>2011-05-03T22:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T16:37:07.419-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Vines</title><content type='html'>So my weight has been so inconsistent lately and in the last week I gained 5 lbs.  I thought perhaps it was 'that time' or maybe it was all of the red vines I consumed recently.  Well, good news today while I was cleaning I realized that my scale has been bumped and it reads 5 lbs. heavier.  Phew, total relief! I thought I was going to have to give up my red vines!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-5484876564673193381?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/5484876564673193381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=5484876564673193381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/5484876564673193381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/5484876564673193381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/05/red-vines.html' title='Red Vines'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-1343824276658312129</id><published>2011-02-25T21:29:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T21:32:03.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4 minutes = FAIL</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size:13.3333px;"&gt;&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"  style="margin-top: 0.25em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.4em; font-size:22px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 25px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;There are days when I see a light or glimmer of hope to me becoming a better person. In hopes to "improve" myself (I should know that these type of situations never end well for me), I have been listening to a CD that discusses communication. For the most part it is pretty entertaining, not as entertaining as many other random things in my life, but entertaining enough for the drive to Tooele every day. So, this particular CD gives a challenge to not criticize any one or any thing for 24 hours. Stop. Think about this....it is not as easy as one would think. Now, I have to say for the most part I do pretty well with these types of things, however about 4 minutes after I decide to take the challenge I pull into the parking lot at work and there is woman wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt and I think to myself "Why do people think it is more than appropriate to wear their pajamas to work, it can't be that hard to put on actual pants". Yep, I lasted 4 minutes. I totally failed and yet on some level I am okay with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-1343824276658312129?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/1343824276658312129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=1343824276658312129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1343824276658312129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1343824276658312129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2011/02/4-minutes-fail.html' title='4 minutes = FAIL'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-603648286900543015</id><published>2009-07-04T17:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T18:12:50.871-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Clearly the WRONG shoe selection</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/Sk_vydV2JqI/AAAAAAAAADs/junF5TGhgHE/s1600-h/Tractor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354762132115564194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/Sk_vydV2JqI/AAAAAAAAADs/junF5TGhgHE/s400/Tractor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;So to preface this story I have to start with the fact that I choose the wrong shoes for every occasion. For example, recently I have decided that ballet flats in a down poor, stilettos to walk through gravel at a nursery and crocks in the mud were all good ideas.....great for the outfit, BAD for the activity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;On this particular day I decided to wear flips. I guess when Kody told me that we were just going to ride in a tractor I didn't think that we were going to be out in a swampy field. So for an hour or so we cruised around the field and I chatted (of course) while Kody worked....what can I say....I will do pretty much anything to get out of working on my final (don't you worry I did my homework). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Chatting...working....and then....sinking. Yes, with all the rain over the past month this is what happened. Ahh good times. However the best part of the story...we are clear across the field and Kody tells me that I should go (he obviously supports my schooling more than I do) and you know deep inside I think this is a good idea. I really should stop hanging out with my friend and actually attempt to finish my final. So I head out. The problem. We just disc'd the field which means that it is really soft to walk on. The part of the field that we did not disc is completely overgrown with weeds. You combine this with my fear of snakes and walking through the soft wet dirt was hands down the BEST option for Eiko.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;As I start walking in my flips in this dirt my favorite DC flip flop breaks. Walk two steps shoe comes apart. Put shoe back together and walk two steps. This goes on for awhile and then I call Kody at which point he says "Koe, if keep going at this pace it is going to take all day"....that is just embarrassing. He thought I was really that slow. At which point I took off my shoes and walked barefoot.&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/2892601639936705099-603648286900543015?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/603648286900543015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/603648286900543015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2009/07/clearly-wrong-shoe-selection.html' title='Clearly the WRONG shoe selection'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/Sk_vydV2JqI/AAAAAAAAADs/junF5TGhgHE/s72-c/Tractor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-588227909026909260</id><published>2009-01-06T17:03:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T17:17:07.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twilight</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SWPx_Oqj9OI/AAAAAAAAADM/rWaNM-2-X08/s1600-h/Addicted2Twilight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288336456033760482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 317px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SWPx_Oqj9OI/AAAAAAAAADM/rWaNM-2-X08/s400/Addicted2Twilight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt;...Twilight.  I have to admit that this photo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;epitomizes&lt;/span&gt; my thought on this subject.  First off, I was not a fan of Twilight, I had no interest in the books mostly because they are about vampires and the whole thing takes place in some small woodsy town and well for those of you that know me, know that I am not a huge fan of anything that is remotely scary or that would make me second guess being in the dark at my parent's house in the woods.  And yet when the movie premiered I went not expecting a whole lot...what happened was the movie was not half bad and that stirred enough interest to me reading and now on the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; book of this series.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;But really that is neither here nor there....the real story that I want to tell is about the night that I went to see this movie in Montana.  I live in a small town in Western Montana and movies are shown at 7 and 9 every night.  You never have to guess on the time because it never changes.  So...Jenny and I head off to the 9 o'clock showing of Twilight and when we walked into the theatre we find that we are the only two at this showing.  So....Twilight, Edward, Bella....two hours later and we walk out of our theatre to find a note that says "Please use this door" with an arrow showing us the way to the side door.  Please note that there was not a light on or a soul in site in the ENTIRE building.  We proceed outside and the door locked behind us....WE WERE THE ONLY TWO IN THE BUILDING.  Yes, they literally locked us inside to watch a movie and went home.....seriously.  I know there are a lot of comments about us stealing the candy and such, but honestly when I got outside after watching a VAMPIRE movie to complete darkness I was not excited at all.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-588227909026909260?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/588227909026909260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/588227909026909260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2009/01/twilight.html' title='Twilight'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SWPx_Oqj9OI/AAAAAAAAADM/rWaNM-2-X08/s72-c/Addicted2Twilight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-4666295380720084607</id><published>2008-12-19T11:38:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T11:43:52.335-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WOW.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SUvqcV5TJ8I/AAAAAAAAADE/ykoWCNvlmrk/s1600-h/Meowphy.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281572760656750530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SUvqcV5TJ8I/AAAAAAAAADE/ykoWCNvlmrk/s400/Meowphy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;So I was planning on posting some fantastic photos of "Santa Con 2008" from the Espiritu clan in San Fran...but they threatened me with my life.  They did however say that I could post this...and I know it is not as interesting or as fun as the Santa photos would be but....what do you do?  This is their 30 lb. SPOILED cat, Murphy aka Meowphy, who apparently is cold while he sits on his sofa/futon.  Seriously.  Yes, I am related to these people.  I know...shameful.&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/2892601639936705099-4666295380720084607?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4666295380720084607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4666295380720084607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/12/wow.html' title='WOW.'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SUvqcV5TJ8I/AAAAAAAAADE/ykoWCNvlmrk/s72-c/Meowphy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-447586728561913849</id><published>2008-12-10T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:20:34.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SUCVA5iH14I/AAAAAAAAAC8/npJEHShzk90/s1600-h/kicka.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278382605954701186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 383px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 352px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SUCVA5iH14I/AAAAAAAAAC8/npJEHShzk90/s400/kicka.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/2892601639936705099-447586728561913849?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/447586728561913849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/447586728561913849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SUCVA5iH14I/AAAAAAAAAC8/npJEHShzk90/s72-c/kicka.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-1885692342909804094</id><published>2008-12-04T23:33:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T23:38:02.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time for a haircut?</title><content type='html'>Picture this...I drop my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;iPOD&lt;/span&gt; on the floor under the chair.  I have to lean clear over to get it and as I try to sit up...I have one hand on my long hair.  Let me paint you a picture, as I try to sit up I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;simultaneously&lt;/span&gt; pulling myself back down.  The best part is that it took me doing it twice before I realized what was going on.  I am special.  I think I may need to cut my hair.  The fact that it has become an entity all its own and that it gets caught in my car door...makes me think that it is far too long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-1885692342909804094?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1885692342909804094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1885692342909804094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/12/time-for-haircut.html' title='Time for a haircut?'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-8957122402918889095</id><published>2008-12-01T11:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T12:04:24.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in SLC</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/STQ1HuO6gEI/AAAAAAAAACk/z7baWkp6g7Y/s1600-h/skateboarder.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274899470343635010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 87px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/STQ1HuO6gEI/AAAAAAAAACk/z7baWkp6g7Y/s400/skateboarder.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I haven't updated since my move...and all I can say is that Montana does not provide a lot of interesting stories to tell or they pale in comparison to the ones that SLC provided. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, last night while stopping by the Sev I observed the world's slowest skateboarder EVER. I watched him attempt to do an olie up the curb at a record slow pace and all I could think was....friend, you need some speed for that trick. And then I laughed out loud, because do I really think it is in anyones best interest for me to give advice on a sport that I have never really done.....so to my skateboarder friend....good job!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-8957122402918889095?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/8957122402918889095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/8957122402918889095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/12/back-in-slc.html' title='Back in SLC'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/STQ1HuO6gEI/AAAAAAAAACk/z7baWkp6g7Y/s72-c/skateboarder.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-1695464869153671939</id><published>2008-10-14T21:25:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T17:49:07.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubble Wrap</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SPVi0vdoeHI/AAAAAAAAACc/xUmoIQQD3h8/s1600-h/IMG_2008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257216798258395250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SPVi0vdoeHI/AAAAAAAAACc/xUmoIQQD3h8/s400/IMG_2008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Moving....I used to move to a new place every year. In fact I have moved 20+ times in the past 13 years....yah, I move alot. However, I have stayed in the same place for over 3 years, which is rare for me.   So, I am moving out of my awesome, comfy avenue apartment...and I have never been big on the whole bubble wrap, shrink wrap business. This time I find that by putting most of my belongings in storage I have gotten a little paranoid with "what could happen" with my stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;With that said, I have found two very important and I must say AWESOME moving supplies.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;1.  Shrink Wrap - basically you can wrap anything to keep it together, keep dust off etc.  I practiced my skills by shrink wrapping random items while watching TV.  This stuff is my new favorite thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;2.  Bubble Wrap - as seen here.....I was buying it in small quantities....and then thought....go big or go home.  This roll is 250 yards....it just makes me giggle that I felt the need to have this much bubble wrap.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-1695464869153671939?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1695464869153671939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1695464869153671939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/10/bubble-wrap.html' title='Bubble Wrap'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SPVi0vdoeHI/AAAAAAAAACc/xUmoIQQD3h8/s72-c/IMG_2008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-499690752345824380</id><published>2008-08-15T17:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T18:05:03.294-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I heart Nevada</title><content type='html'>I have a tendency to live the most random 10-12 hour spans of time. About a week or so ago a friend called and asked if I would drive with him to Nevada. Hold on...let me back up. I have a friend who owns a repo company and he had to drive to Nevada to "pick up" a car....which is the legal term for stealing a car. So 11pm I get the call and without hesitation I said yes. Now I know what you are thinking....who really ever says yes to these situations and the answer is Eiko...every time. But hey that is what keeps life interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we head out to Nevada, not for a fun vacation or gambling but to "pick up" a car and drive back. The night started out by us listening to George Noory Coast to Coast. For those of you who have never heard of this program I highly recommend it for entertainment...if you happen to be up between the hours of 10pm-5am. I do not however suggest it is the best thing to listen to while driving in the middle of the night through the desert. This night in particular the subject was on the Mothman Prophecies and Mothman sightings. A detail you should know about me is that I am DEATHLY afraid of these unknown things out there...and I find that in this case ignorance is bliss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night continues and our conversation turns to all of these unknown sightings of Big Foot, Mothman, Skinwalkers....all of it. By the time we actually stop for gas I am already on edge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture this...we need gas, there is one light in the middle of the desert which just happens to be this truck stop. Of course we exit and proceed to get gas. As I hopped out of the truck I look around to notice that there is not a soul in site, not an attendant, trucker....nothing. I know what you are thinking because I thought it too, this is the making of a Stephen King novel. Of course me being a total girl, I need to use the restroom. As I make my way across the parking lot I am thinking I hope the store is open....and I kind of hope that it is not...since I will be the only one inside. I step inside to find myself completely alone and of course the bathroom is like 3 halls away. I had to walk by the kitchen, laundry room, cots, showers (this is a trucker stop) and then to the bathroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember thinking....I may die here and no one knows I took this silly road trip in the middle of the night. The only comforting thought was that my friend would also be in the store soon and I would no longer be completely alone at the back of this random building. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I step out to wash my hands I look over to see a piece of binder paper, dated February 2004 and written in almost illegible cursive is a letter to God. YES....I am not kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never left a building so fast in my life. And for all of you that keep asking...no, I did not keep the letter...I did not want whatever ghost or person wanting it back from me to follow us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I helped steal a car. So basically in the span of 10 hours I had a scary encounter, cheered as my friend sang every single song on his I-pod, stole a car, did not get shot at and still managed to write an entire paper for my Business Law class. Amazing....my life amazes me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-499690752345824380?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/499690752345824380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/499690752345824380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-heart-nevada.html' title='I heart Nevada'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-5438881007647063385</id><published>2008-08-14T20:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T23:31:11.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The randomness that is my life....</title><content type='html'>So, I have a tendency to sit outside when I am on the phone.  Today as I sat on my porch having a pretty indepth conversation I was approached by a guy wearing a white button up shirt and black slacks.  There was nothing about him that gave any indication of what he was about to say to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy guy "Do you have any crack, meth or weed?"&lt;br /&gt;Me "No"&lt;br /&gt;Crazy guy "Loratab....Aspirin....anything?"&lt;br /&gt;Me "I have nothing...."&lt;br /&gt;Crazy guy "Alright then.  High five."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT?!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-5438881007647063385?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/5438881007647063385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/5438881007647063385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/08/randomness-that-is-my-life.html' title='The randomness that is my life....'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-6669773522177936730</id><published>2008-07-30T11:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T11:15:36.457-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.oneplusyou.com/bb/view2/eat_buddies" style="display: block; background: #333 url('http://www.oneplusyou.com/bb/img/eat_buddies/badge_sidebar.jpg') no-repeat; width: 150px; height: 90px; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 35px; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; text-align: center; padding-top: 110px; "&gt;33%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Created by OnePlusYou - &lt;a href="http://www.oneplusyou.com"&gt;Free Dating&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/2892601639936705099-6669773522177936730?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/6669773522177936730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/6669773522177936730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/07/33-created-by-oneplusyou-free-dating.html' title=''/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-3958303474743459336</id><published>2008-07-19T21:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T21:34:52.805-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I adopted kids.....</title><content type='html'>So I work for the company TodaysMama and the ironic part is that I am the only one who is childless.  So I felt the need to see what this business was all about. Yes, it is true.  I adopted my cousins 3 kids for 11 days to embark on our first ever "Summer Adventure".  And these were the best lines of the week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you know how Eiko's skin is brown....they actually call that black."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why is Eiko half Chinese and African?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well she isn't, she is actually Japanese and Indian."&lt;br /&gt;"So she is kind of a warrior"&lt;br /&gt;"Actually she is more of a ninja"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh well then who taught her ninja moves?"&lt;br /&gt;"She taught herself"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eiko you say Dude &amp; Seriously way too much...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eiko "Let's Rock and Roll...."&lt;br /&gt;Fletcher "I am Rock and Roll"&lt;br /&gt;And there is how we got his Summer Adventure nicname&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sofie "Eiko for my adventure I want to make a Hannah Montan video...I have the H.M. wig but I need a shirt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the 11 days we did everything on our list.  Got sweet tans and played hard.  It was a great time!  And as much as I missed my life without kids I now miss the kids more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-3958303474743459336?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/3958303474743459336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/3958303474743459336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-adopted-kids.html' title='I adopted kids.....'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-2645579031036500713</id><published>2008-06-13T09:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T16:15:22.346-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My favorite toy....</title><content type='html'>So when I was a kid my favorite thing to play with was my brothers. I know what you are thinking....WTF? But here is the thing, they were like real live dolls. I could dare them or make them do whatever I wanted...yes, I was a little bossy as a kid. But they did whatever I suggested...dress up, let me push them down the hill on a skateboard or in a buggy... but the best was when we turned our wagon into a go-cart. These are the memories I have of me and my brothers and how we played....after yesterday I have found that this is not the case with the kids in my hood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live in the Avenues which means that my neighbors are about 5 feet away. I have a new set of neighbors next door and being that I work from home I can hear the kids and their discussions all day long.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;The little girl was outside and yelling at her brother....these are the things she said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, you can not use that...that is my bowling ball!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now granted I didn't see this "bowling ball", however I am little nervous that the 5 &amp; 6 year olds are using a bowling ball as an actual toy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can not jump on the tramp while someone else is on it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;WTF I thought that was the whole point of a tramp&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There are rules to playing...if you can't deal with the rules then we can't play!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seriously who are these kids?! And "rules" for playing....one word...stupid.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-2645579031036500713?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/2645579031036500713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/2645579031036500713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-favorite-toy.html' title='My favorite toy....'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-1829400970474578023</id><published>2008-06-03T14:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T16:22:48.111-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Embrace the madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SEWuFn9Z2FI/AAAAAAAAABo/0LB-EIPb-2M/s1600-h/horse+girl.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SEWuFn9Z2FI/AAAAAAAAABo/0LB-EIPb-2M/s400/horse+girl.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207759955772954706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this is a real person....a girl wearing a horse head while mowing the lawn....in my neighborhood. I can't decide which is funnier the fact that she caused me to run home and get my camera so that I can share this with the world or that when I came to the intersection and saw this it caused me to spit out my juice and then reprimand myself for making a mess that I said my first, middle and last name out loud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-1829400970474578023?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/1829400970474578023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=1829400970474578023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1829400970474578023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1829400970474578023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/06/embrace-madness.html' title='Embrace the madness'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SEWuFn9Z2FI/AAAAAAAAABo/0LB-EIPb-2M/s72-c/horse+girl.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-887945104003594529</id><published>2008-05-27T19:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T19:31:00.762-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance it out......</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDy1DOmcthI/AAAAAAAAABU/6DlFoTxnKE0/s1600-h/Dance+Off.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDy1DOmcthI/AAAAAAAAABU/6DlFoTxnKE0/s320/Dance+Off.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205234336397047314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently bought a card for a friend that suggests that all conflict should be resolved with a dance off.  I know what you are thinking....BRILLIANT.  Going forward I have decided that pretty much everything can be resolved with a dance off....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Discussion" (nice word for fight) with your significant other....Dance off....&lt;br /&gt;Great day.....dance it out.&lt;br /&gt;Bad day....dance it out.&lt;br /&gt;Disagreement at work.....DANCE OFF (imagine the possibilities behind this....one word YouTube)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And think of all the genres....&lt;br /&gt;Disco&lt;br /&gt;Old school ('Roger Rabbit', 'Running Man'...the list goes on and on)&lt;br /&gt;Country&lt;br /&gt;Hard rock (I call this "kick things music" although I do not suggest actually kicking someone)&lt;br /&gt;Rap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you think about it...this can solve so many things.  I am seriously considering implementing this in all areas of my life.....so get practicing on your mad dance skills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-887945104003594529?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/887945104003594529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=887945104003594529' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/887945104003594529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/887945104003594529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/05/dance-it-out.html' title='Dance it out......'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDy1DOmcthI/AAAAAAAAABU/6DlFoTxnKE0/s72-c/Dance+Off.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-1835949333787992156</id><published>2008-05-20T22:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T20:09:47.572-06:00</updated><title type='text'>BFF</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDeGv-mctgI/AAAAAAAAABM/MLSZAKtrvA8/s1600-h/funny.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203776053266134530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDeGv-mctgI/AAAAAAAAABM/MLSZAKtrvA8/s320/funny.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Friends can help each other. A true friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself-and especially to feel, or not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at the moment is fine with them. That's what real love amounts to--letting a person be who they really are." James Douglas Morrison lead singer of the Doors&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This statement epitomizes my recent experience in the "Free Fall" of my life. It is funny to me that those people who have been a part of this experience have become my greatest allies in all of this. I have found over the years that friends are tricky. Sometimes they are there and sometimes they are gone all together when you need them the most. I am blessed to have had had the great experience in finding those souls that will stand next to me in the dark and the light. Those that I seek advice from come in many forms and that those who are willing to give it and to push me to excel in my life are truly the people that love me. That knowledge alone lets me know that I am not alone in my struggle to be my best self. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-1835949333787992156?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/1835949333787992156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=1835949333787992156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1835949333787992156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/1835949333787992156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/05/bff.html' title='BFF'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDeGv-mctgI/AAAAAAAAABM/MLSZAKtrvA8/s72-c/funny.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2892601639936705099.post-4335891882024268192</id><published>2008-05-16T08:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T09:31:41.076-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Free Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SC2n1XV7c_I/AAAAAAAAAAw/OI_i1VchF0A/s1600-h/bungy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200997679923688434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="146" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SC2n1XV7c_I/AAAAAAAAAAw/OI_i1VchF0A/s320/bungy.jpg" width="220" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;Do you have enough risk in your life to stay alive?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;Who would have thought that these 11 words would have such a tremendous impact on my entire life. In November of 2007 I had a realization that I was on the wrong life path. My path through life has had it's ups and downs but definitely didn't challenge me in ways that would improve who I am and who I wanted to be. I recently quit my job....and for those of you who know me, know that this is completely out of character. I have since had 9 weeks...to think, study, analyze and research what career path and what type of future I wanted. This period of my life is what I call the "Free Fall". I made a decision to not control my destiny but rather let go and let the pieces fall where they may. I can not even begin to tell you the amount of freedom and strength that you find in yourself when you do this. IT IS AMAZING. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;I think of it alot like bungee jumping....when you leap the net will appear.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2892601639936705099-4335891882024268192?l=eikoespiritu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/feeds/4335891882024268192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2892601639936705099&amp;postID=4335891882024268192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4335891882024268192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2892601639936705099/posts/default/4335891882024268192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eikoespiritu.blogspot.com/2008/05/free-fall.html' title='Free Fall'/><author><name>Koe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00454346791372549174</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SDzNcOmctjI/AAAAAAAAABg/Beo058HaYUQ/S220/Photo_102505_001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Z4TjVBlZNaM/SC2n1XV7c_I/AAAAAAAAAAw/OI_i1VchF0A/s72-c/bungy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
