<?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-11594042</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:41:31.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>summer</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11594042.post-113332341709203133</id><published>2005-11-29T21:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T06:25:20.829-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Pair of Jeans</title><content type='html'>Sometimes when you let something go you want it back so badly, but&lt;br /&gt;one you have it back you wonder if it is what you really want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want it because it is just so right, or is it because it&lt;br /&gt;is so comfortable and familiar. Could you really not live&lt;br /&gt;without it, or are just scared of trying something new?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of like that favorite pair of jeans that are falling&lt;br /&gt;a part and have holes everywhere, but you cannot get rid of them.&lt;br /&gt;They are so comfortable and broken in that you cannot bear to part with them.&lt;br /&gt;You debate whether you should ignore the holes and wear them anyway,&lt;br /&gt;patch them up and start fresh, or finally get rid of them and&lt;br /&gt;get a new pair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11594042-113332341709203133?l=summerwoods.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/feeds/113332341709203133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11594042&amp;postID=113332341709203133&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default/113332341709203133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default/113332341709203133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/2005/11/favorite-pair-of-jeans.html' title='Favorite Pair of Jeans'/><author><name>me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11594042.post-112951884058347154</id><published>2005-10-16T22:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T06:24:37.621-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Down With the Christmas Lights</title><content type='html'>Twas NOT the night before Christmas&lt;br /&gt;When down on my street&lt;br /&gt;Not a creature was stirring&lt;br /&gt;not even a mouse&lt;br /&gt;When what to my wondering eyes should appear&lt;br /&gt;but a house lit up with Christmas lights everywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so it does not fit the original's rhyme scheme, but I should get points for creativity. Anyway, those who know me KNOW that one of my biggest annoyances is &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt; Christmas-lights, decorations, songs-before Thanksgiving is over. I was driving down my street two nights ago when I saw a lawn and house on my street all lit up for Christmas. I could not believe it. It is not even Halloween yet! I love Christmas; I am all for it. The day after Thanksgiving I will put up my Christmas tree and bring out my Christmas music. In the meantime, how can I enjoy watching scary movies and the spookiness of Halloween while "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" is playing? How am I suppose to be thankful during Thanksgiving with Christmas lights, Rudolph, Frosty, and Santa in my face? Why are people in such a hurry? I remember when I was a child it seemed as if it took forever for Christmas to get here. When Christmas finally arrived, it was such an exciting time. Now it seems to last half of the year, therefore it has lost its excitement.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11594042-112951884058347154?l=summerwoods.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/feeds/112951884058347154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11594042&amp;postID=112951884058347154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default/112951884058347154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default/112951884058347154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/2005/10/down-with-christmas-lights.html' title='Down With the Christmas Lights'/><author><name>me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11594042.post-112715461858821478</id><published>2005-09-19T13:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T06:23:25.604-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laundry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4840/947/1600/snuggle2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4840/947/200/snuggle1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Nick does not have a washer/dryer in his apartment, so he comes over to my apartment about once a week to do his laundry. A couple of weeks ago he forgot to bring his laundry detergent for his weekly washing. I told him that he could borrow mine rather than going back to get his. As I handed mine to him he looked at me like I was crazy and asked me what it was. I told him that it was my laundry detergent as I looked at him like he was the crazy one. He looked at the container and said, "Summer this is &lt;em&gt;fabric softener . . . " &lt;/em&gt;I looked at it and sure enough it said fabric softener in tiny letters. "Well that is what I have been washing everything with the past two months!" I felt like such an idiot, but we both had to laugh at my silliness. I had picked it out by going down the aisle smelling all of the scents to see which was my favorite. How was I suppose to know that Snuggle only made fabric softener?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11594042-112715461858821478?l=summerwoods.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/feeds/112715461858821478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11594042&amp;postID=112715461858821478&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default/112715461858821478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default/112715461858821478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/2005/09/laundry.html' title='Laundry'/><author><name>me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11594042.post-112205170154770307</id><published>2005-07-22T11:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T06:22:20.337-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Childhood</title><content type='html'>I am only 20 years old, but there is already a huge difference between my childhood and those of the children coming up today. From the time I was about four or five years old until I started seventh grade my friends and I spent our days playing Barbies, board games, riding bikes, getting dirty outside, etc. Now the majority of young people are on their cellphones and/or computers. I did not get my first computer until about eighth grade when I was too old for Barbies and playing in the mud. My first cell phone did not arrive until I got my first job. I am not dissing the kids with cellphones/computers or their parents, but I really feel like they are missing out on life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many great memories of Jessi, our friends, and I spending all of our summer days outside and having to be forced inside when it was dark outside. Whether we were making up crazy games to play, riding our bikes as far as we could get away with, or just jumping on the trampoline we were having the time of our lives. Sometimes we would be so dirty that we would have to be sprayed down with the water hose before we were allowed inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's youth are finished playing Barbie and Ken at the age of nine or maybe younger in many cases and have moved on to real "boyfriend" "girlfriend" issues. The days of note passing the typical "will you go with me? circle yes or no" are gone. Now they can just send a quick text message on their cellphones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicycles? These kids have scooters and golf carts. Board games? What are those?! Now it is Xbox, Playstation, and computer games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that as technology increases, there will be differences in lifestyles of the past and present. However, I still think that having a fulfilled childhood is very important. I am thankful that I can look back on my childhood fondly. I remember Penny telling Jessi and I so many times to be kids and enjoy life because we would be grown up soon. She was exactly right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ride a bike, play Barbies, get a little dirty, and do not worry about boyfriends/girlfriends for as long as you have to because before you know it your childhood will be gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11594042-112205170154770307?l=summerwoods.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/feeds/112205170154770307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11594042&amp;postID=112205170154770307&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default/112205170154770307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11594042/posts/default/112205170154770307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://summerwoods.blogspot.com/2005/07/childhood.html' title='Childhood'/><author><name>me</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
