<?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-19703832</id><updated>2011-12-17T13:06:35.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is me... mildly censored</title><subtitle type='html'>rants, raves, and random observations</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>119</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-2322237674558986773</id><published>2007-02-17T02:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T02:04:31.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I made the move</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://thisismemildlycensored.wordpress.com/"&gt;And this is where you'll find me.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please updates links and the like...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-2322237674558986773?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/2322237674558986773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=2322237674558986773' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2322237674558986773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2322237674558986773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-made-move.html' title='I made the move'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-8954795455589508296</id><published>2007-02-16T21:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:41.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An Historical Book Lover (part two)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;All through middle school and high school I fed my face with books. Fiction was definitely my favorite, but my history teacher turned me onto to some really great books like this &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/John-Adams-David-McCullough/dp/0743223136/sr=1-2/qid=1171681218/ref=sr_1_2/103-1394404-7731803?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt; or this &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Freedom-Fear-American-Depression-1929-1945/dp/0195144031/sr=1-1/qid=1171681587/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-1394404-7731803?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt;. The latter one I received as a gift for winning the history student of year. I was such a dork.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One book really changed how I viewed my political convictions which were always liberal, but growing up in &lt;a href="http://www.wheatonacademy.org/main.htm"&gt;epicenter of conservatism&lt;/a&gt; made it hard for me to describe exactly how it felt about the world around me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Peoples-History-United-States-Present/dp/0060838655/sr=8-1/qid=1171681289/ref=pd_bbs_1/103-1394404-7731803?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032342741128954754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RdZ5D4EBw4I/AAAAAAAAAHc/p7F50nGEq8E/s400/peopleshistory.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just read it and he said things I had thought and believed and it was all in one book. It was a mini revolution in my mind. He's one of my favorite authors. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My junior year of high school I got a job at a publishing house, &lt;a href="http://www.tyndale.com/"&gt;Tyndale&lt;/a&gt;. That's right, they publish... The Left Behind Series. Dun dun dun dun. And while I never bought into the theology, the boatloads of books sold meant for some very large bi-annual bonuses during the years I worked there and at the age of 17, that was a dream. Some of that money I used as a down payment on my house. I loved working around books. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I quit that job to move to Kansas City, and got a job at the bookstore. Originally the job was a part time thing but through circumstances I became a manager. There are a lot of places to find a community at IHOP. I found mine in that store. It's not easy, it's hard and challenging. But I love that prayer room and what I do helps support that. Did I come here thinking that this is what I would do? No, but there is joy in doing it. Sometimes I think people wonder if you can be a "business" person and still love that prayer room? Can you be an administrator and still be an intercessor? Can you love Jesus in the midst of sales reports, scheduling, and cycle counts? It can be done, my friends. I see my friends do it every day and I am certainly challenged in it, but I am blessed to love Jesus this way. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So that's where the love of the written word has taken me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-8954795455589508296?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/8954795455589508296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=8954795455589508296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8954795455589508296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8954795455589508296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/02/historical-book-lover-part-two.html' title='An Historical Book Lover (part two)'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RdZ5D4EBw4I/AAAAAAAAAHc/p7F50nGEq8E/s72-c/peopleshistory.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-9112347665882239728</id><published>2007-02-13T23:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T00:20:29.897-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Historical Book Lover (Part 1)</title><content type='html'>I realized the other day that I've been working at the bookstore for over three years, which means I've done 4 onething conferences. That's right count them: 4. One as a cashier, one as a conference manager, and two as the gen. manager, or I as prefer "queen b".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up loving to read books. Oddly I used to cry as a small child thinking I would never be able to read on my own. My mother recalls with some amount of humor my anxiety over the prospect of illiteracy. I wasn't slow, I was just consumed with needing to read all my own. It was unnatural. I did read all on my own starting in kindergarten. I think that's pretty normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became obsessed with reading. I would pour through books at a rate that astounded my parents; who to this day hate reading. I would read my favorite books over and over again. I began to read large novels in fifth grade and became obsessed with various historical fiction series that my fifth grade teacher was also reading. My parents would punish me by making me go outside and playing with the neighborhood kids. They couldn't banish me to my room, because I would read for days without leaving. I hated playing outside. I would cry and cry and cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all throughout my childhood everyone joked that I should work at a bookstore or that one day I would run my own book emporium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ends part one. Hold on to your pants kids, this story is "to be continued".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-9112347665882239728?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/9112347665882239728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=9112347665882239728' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/9112347665882239728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/9112347665882239728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/02/historical-book-lover-part-1.html' title='A Historical Book Lover (Part 1)'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-265710483146498382</id><published>2007-02-09T16:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T00:12:09.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Give Me a Database...</title><content type='html'>Or Give me Death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No really, please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-265710483146498382?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/265710483146498382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=265710483146498382' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/265710483146498382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/265710483146498382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/02/give-me-database.html' title='Give Me a Database...'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-6899559507348148329</id><published>2007-02-04T21:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:41.935-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bummer and Brothers</title><content type='html'>Obviously a bummer of a night in Chicago. It will be an even bigger bummer on Tuesday morning when I have to head back to work. It's been a nice weekend away and it will be hard to go back to a conference week on the missions base. First conference since onething; that deserves a woooooohooooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a pic from my Grandma's 80th... this is the whole fam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027878335358728098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RcactQjwd6I/AAAAAAAAAGs/ej1LXbnkaUY/s400/IMG_0139_2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a picture of my father and his two brothers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027878829279967154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RcadKAjwd7I/AAAAAAAAAG0/iZHhvMPYgm0/s400/IMG_0131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Grandmother and her two brothers. &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027879907316758466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RcaeIwjwd8I/AAAAAAAAAG8/ryq8EdyIy58/s400/IMG_0137.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027880285273880530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/Rcaeewjwd9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/yGDStVdnKro/s400/IMG_0132_2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;And this is my brother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-6899559507348148329?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/6899559507348148329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=6899559507348148329' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/6899559507348148329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/6899559507348148329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/02/bummer-and-brothers.html' title='Bummer and Brothers'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RcactQjwd6I/AAAAAAAAAGs/ej1LXbnkaUY/s72-c/IMG_0139_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-8638385805624213130</id><published>2007-02-04T20:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:42.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Team Spirit Anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RcaCmgjwd5I/AAAAAAAAAGg/aSV82eksPfo/s1600-h/IMG_0154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027849632092288914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RcaCmgjwd5I/AAAAAAAAAGg/aSV82eksPfo/s320/IMG_0154.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/19703832-8638385805624213130?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/8638385805624213130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=8638385805624213130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8638385805624213130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8638385805624213130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/02/team-spirit-anyone.html' title='Team Spirit Anyone?'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RcaCmgjwd5I/AAAAAAAAAGg/aSV82eksPfo/s72-c/IMG_0154.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-3697832079244869447</id><published>2007-01-30T17:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T18:01:14.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Any other name</title><content type='html'>Names stick. To be honest I haven’t had a lot of good/solid nicknames in the past. Kristen Anderson is a pretty hard name to mock (note: this is not a challenge) and it’s a hard name to morph into something cool. Most often I am called Miss Kris, K-Rock, or more recently (and it is with great distaste that I even mention it) Jack will call me “krissy”   [insert deep shudder]. I had one guy in high school call me Anderson, which was super original and very unique and half the hallway turned around every time he called out to me. Truth be told he was really cute so he could have called me anything and it would have been just fine with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s actually a pretty good transition. Because while I never had a strong nickname, I had a lot of different names; names that others had put on me. Here is the brutal truth, once you get past my calm, cool, kick butt exterior there is a pretty sensitive desperate girl; a girl who wonders about who she really is, not so much anymore, but up until about a year ago it was very true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that this insecurity really caused a lot of pain in my life. First off this insecurity was a total mystery to me, I had worked so hard on being confident and perfect that I thought that that was who I was. I couldn’t see the real me. I think people can cope for a while (sometime a long while) like this without seeing any big cracks. But slowly little inconsistencies begin to appear. For example: “if I’m so confident why am I so scared to meet new people?”; “Why am I so concerned about others evaluations?”; “Why am I always so anxious or nervous?”.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                       &lt;br /&gt;Then really big inconsistencies begin to appear. I found myself looking for affirmation and love in some really bad places. My desperation to be named caused me to do things that were so outside my character, so outside everything I believed about myself, against all my outspoken principles. They weren’t the actions of a confident feminist; the person that I thought I was, these were the actions of a desperate crazy person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I first saw myself for real. I was freaking out, having a huge argument with someone I thought I loved. And I was basically begging this person to name me. Which looking back was really outrageous because this person was not in place to love another person well, much less speak into another person’s life. He pointed this out to me with a lot of emotion (and at this point a very raised voice), and he was somewhat incredulous at my ridiculous need. It was at this moment I was totally silent and a light totally clicked on in my head. I saw my inordinate need to be loved. It was horrifying; like a slap in the face. Now it reminds me of the story of the emperor with no clothes. Everyone else knew he was naked, but he was totally unaware. (I totally stole that analogy from Tracy S.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years later, I can recount this story and say that this really provided the impetus to seek out healing; it really pushed me to get real. There was a reason I was so desperate, there was a reason I was using other people to define me. And you know I was empowered (after a lot of hard work) to take myself back. I work really hard at not letting other people’s names stick; I work hard to be sure that at the end of the day only Jesus defines me. I believe there are moments like this in everyone’s life; moments when you can glimpse past self-perception and really see yourself objectively. I’m glad I took the opportunity to stare at that desperate needy girl. It was the only way I could ensure that the reflection I found would one day change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and if you attempt to call me "Anderson" I probably won't respond, no matter how cute you are (again: not a challenge).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-3697832079244869447?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/3697832079244869447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=3697832079244869447' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/3697832079244869447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/3697832079244869447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/any-other-name.html' title='Any other name'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-5295881064418467543</id><published>2007-01-26T16:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T16:16:34.321-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Praise Jesus, it's Friday.</title><content type='html'>The Week in Review&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Near Death Experience&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are doing some really great improvements in my hallway at work this week. There has been a lot of hammering and sawing and one unfortunate freak accident in which no one was hurt, but I saw my life flash before my eyes. The ceiling in the office across from me "collapsed" with a fairly large crash. Needless to say I was shaken up and the accounting crew called my Chicken Little for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Near Roadkill Experience&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nearly hit a three legged dog. He's a neighborhood dog, which has already been maimed. I call him Tripod in my head and I nearly killed him completely this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Near Nervous Breakdown&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a kind of stressful week, but thanks to my new hot pink koosh stress ball I feel 100% better. I've named it "xanax" or Xany for short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Near Immature Response&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm being persecuted. It's least that's how it feels lately. I've had trouble reigning in my response to my own offense. I'm offended when people don't like me, when they don't like my expression of Christianity. I'm also challenged to live it better, to make it my own, to have a real reason for my faith. That's a good thing, but it's taken me a few days to calm down and get some perspective.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-5295881064418467543?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/5295881064418467543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=5295881064418467543' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5295881064418467543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5295881064418467543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/praise-jesus-its-friday.html' title='Praise Jesus, it&apos;s Friday.'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7933576627615534643</id><published>2007-01-21T20:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:42.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Miami, Here We Come</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022653955828139266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RbQNKWLYxQI/AAAAAAAAAF8/B_vEs0ppcNk/s400/they%27re+back.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022654058907354386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RbQNQWLYxRI/AAAAAAAAAGE/LU2u5-dLF-U/s400/rex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bears played a fantabulous game today and are on their way to the Superbowl. Needless to say all of Rush Street will be celebrating well into tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Below is a picture of Buck supporting his team by clutching his toy moose, who in honor of the Bears, we have named: "Moosey" short for &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muhsin_Muhammad"&gt;Muhsin Muhammad&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RbQNnmLYxSI/AAAAAAAAAGU/SsgST9109Q4/s1600-h/mousey.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022654458339312930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RbQNnmLYxSI/AAAAAAAAAGU/SsgST9109Q4/s320/mousey.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Go Bears!!&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/19703832-7933576627615534643?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7933576627615534643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7933576627615534643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7933576627615534643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7933576627615534643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/miami-here-we-come.html' title='Miami, Here We Come'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RbQNKWLYxQI/AAAAAAAAAF8/B_vEs0ppcNk/s72-c/they%27re+back.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-2477512922723134397</id><published>2007-01-20T23:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T00:13:48.128-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Children of Men - In Review</title><content type='html'>I don't think I have ever posted about a movie I've seen or loved. My father said once that I have horrible discernment when it comes to cinema. At that point in my life I stopped recommending movies. I find it to painful to offer up disclaimers for things that I love. And I love movies, all types but I love movies that make me think, that leave questions unanswered, that make me feel uncomfortable with how I think or live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is a first; and there are plenty of reasons to not see this movie, but I did and I'm really glad. The basic plot is this: the world is reaching the "end", women haven't been able to have children for 18 years, and so everyone is living in hopeless chaos. And then out of nowhere a women is found pregnant. And so begins the real story, and I won't ruin it for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while the movie was very apocalyptic it was also very Bethlehem. Here is this beautiful thing happening and the world is dark and evil and left to it's own devices. There is nothing innocent of colorful left. And a child is about to be born into it that could ultimately save the world from themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;anna&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;simeon&lt;/span&gt;, two people who really "saw" Jesus. They really knew who he was and they saw the mystery in his existence. As I left the theater I asked myself, "will I recognize him when he comes; will I see him for who he really is?" It's an unsettling question, it makes me uncomfortable and discontent with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was definitely a movie that will make you think about the nature of depravity, the content of hope and how one unexpected event can change the course of humanity; for the better or worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-2477512922723134397?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/2477512922723134397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=2477512922723134397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2477512922723134397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2477512922723134397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/children-of-men-in-review.html' title='Children of Men - In Review'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7871997835478093249</id><published>2007-01-14T22:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T21:09:33.575-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Duke Drama</title><content type='html'>I've debated whether or not to post this but hey what the heck; these are my thoughts, my opinions; feel free to totally disagree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I assume most of you have heard the story of three Duke students who have been accused of assaulting a women they hired from an escort service for a party they were throwing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As to whether these men assaulted this woman in some way; I have no idea. I lean in that direction, but I have no real way of knowing. Is this woman a credible source of information? I say most definitely not. Will there be justice in this situation? I hope so, but I doubt it. I think at this point there is no clear indication of what happened so realistically I'm not sure justice can be served.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's actually not what this post is about. This post is about a sixty minutes special aired this week. I didn't see the whole thing, I just saw snip-its of indignant Duke student parents. They couldn't believe that someone was "doing this" to their sons. And by "doing this" I assume they meant falsely accusing their sons of assault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their shock I found to be somewhat shocking. Their sons hired this woman. Their sons were at this party. I guess my thoughts are really, what do you expect? Immorality begets immorality. If you live by the sword, you die by the sword. You've made your bed, now lie in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I kind of feel like they deserve all this scrutiny, all this drama, because you know what? Thay put themselves in that position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those Duke students aren't innocent one way or another; assault or not. No one walked away from that party with clean hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go farther with this and I might, but I think this is a good start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7871997835478093249?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7871997835478093249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7871997835478093249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7871997835478093249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7871997835478093249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/duke-drama.html' title='Duke Drama'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-6211270973945430997</id><published>2007-01-13T22:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T22:44:52.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Jesus</title><content type='html'>And I find him in my everyday life. The last year of my life has been me, coming back to him. I'm not saying that there was a great falling away, because there wasn't. But there were all these small bits of me that were floating farther and farther away. Not just farther away from Jesus but farther away from myself too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a journey to bring it all back, to piece it all together correctly. This last week I found myself in front of a lot of people sharing the story of how I had lost myself or maybe how I never knew myself. It's a vulnerable story, one I have not told to many. It was difficult but wholly freeing; to be known, really known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this to say that the whole process reminds of how much I love Jesus. He has been so faithful to complete me, to bring me back, to find me, to mourn with me, and to heal me. He has shoved me out into the light so that I could die and find my place at the cross. He has been good to be so painful in his love towards me. He truly is the hound of heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-6211270973945430997?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/6211270973945430997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=6211270973945430997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/6211270973945430997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/6211270973945430997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-love-jesus.html' title='I love Jesus'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-6595316082501430265</id><published>2007-01-12T20:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:42.975-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ice Ice Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Do you have this at your house when it's cold and snowy and icy and you just can't leave?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/Rag9vmLYxMI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pYhc4L1BEa4/s1600-h/Photo+163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019329672615871682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/Rag9vmLYxMI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pYhc4L1BEa4/s400/Photo+163.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's right we have a chocolate fountain...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-6595316082501430265?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/6595316082501430265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=6595316082501430265' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/6595316082501430265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/6595316082501430265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/ice-ice-party.html' title='Ice Ice Party'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/Rag9vmLYxMI/AAAAAAAAAFM/pYhc4L1BEa4/s72-c/Photo+163.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-4199989569542782193</id><published>2007-01-11T23:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T12:58:34.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Times They are a Changing</title><content type='html'>We die to each other daily.&lt;br /&gt;What we know of other people&lt;br /&gt;Is only our memory of the moments&lt;br /&gt;During which we knew them. And they have changed since then.&lt;br /&gt;To pretend that they and we are the same&lt;br /&gt;Is a useful and convenient social convention&lt;br /&gt;Which must sometimes broken. We must also remember&lt;br /&gt;That at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;- TS Elliot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading TS Elliot earlier, he is a perfectly crafted writer. Not an ounce of fat exists in his work. He is really gifted in expressing how people truly feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At any rate, this is been something I've been thinking about. We all change so quickly and sometimes I try to "hop" back into someone's life and expect them to be just as I left them. How self-consumed is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've realized that people I once was really close with; now they are like strangers to me. So much has transpired and put us all in different places, both physically and emotionally. It's interesting I think; how we ebb and flow, in and out of one another.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-4199989569542782193?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/4199989569542782193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=4199989569542782193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4199989569542782193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4199989569542782193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/times-they-are-changing.html' title='Times They are a Changing'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-4623976150323294584</id><published>2007-01-08T14:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:43.461-05:00</updated><title type='text'>onething finale post</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RaKkamxtmpI/AAAAAAAAAE4/UUDUtMcQMIU/s1600-h/onething+06+line.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017753711836764818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RaKkamxtmpI/AAAAAAAAAE4/UUDUtMcQMIU/s320/onething+06+line.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RaKkP2xtmoI/AAAAAAAAAEw/5Xo_orJCBNw/s1600-h/onething+06+front.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017753527153171074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RaKkP2xtmoI/AAAAAAAAAEw/5Xo_orJCBNw/s320/onething+06+front.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RaKkAmxtmnI/AAAAAAAAAEo/KEpVKRFiEGU/s1600-h/onething+06+back.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017753265160166002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RaKkAmxtmnI/AAAAAAAAAEo/KEpVKRFiEGU/s320/onething+06+back.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I promise you; there is product in there somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quotes from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt; 06 conference&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walking back from lunch on the first day of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt;, we passed the auditorium with Misty rocking it out. Linda the customer service representative for the Forerunner Bookstore turns and looks at me eyes wide with wonder and asks, &lt;em&gt;"What's going on in there?"&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Uh, Linda that's the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt;..."&lt;/em&gt; Kristen to Linda, eyes also wide in wonder&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"the U haul is closed" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Hartke&lt;/span&gt; to me at 7:00PM on the 31st&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"the line starts over there"&lt;/em&gt; (insert drastic hand movements)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"we're not technically supposed to have gaffers tape on the walls, but if they don't say anything it's fine by me."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-named &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt; team member to me on Dec 29&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"don't hate me."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Hartke&lt;/span&gt; to me on Dec 31st after he tore down the gaffers tape. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Do we shop around and buy everything at once or do we pay at each display?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When loading up the safes at the end of the conference three guys decided to come up with a cover story for their cart draped in black fabric. Upon entering the elevators they were joined by a young teen boy. One of my guys asked him, "&lt;em&gt;so kid, do you want some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;gelato&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-4623976150323294584?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/4623976150323294584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=4623976150323294584' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4623976150323294584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4623976150323294584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/onething-finale-post.html' title='onething finale post'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RaKkamxtmpI/AAAAAAAAAE4/UUDUtMcQMIU/s72-c/onething+06+line.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-2477630566210341854</id><published>2007-01-03T11:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:43.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Distortions in the History of Spinning</title><content type='html'>I have a onething finale post that is coming and will include pictures and quotes of the week... but until then I have one Christmas post that is left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I come form a Nordic people. My great great great grandfather Anders Otteson came across a the ocean from Sweden over 100 years a go. He came, believe it or not in search of religious freedom (as he did not wish to be Lutheren). When he came over or when his wife came over (details are not clear) they brought a wooden spinning wheel to spin their wool. This spinning wheel is still in the family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mother put it in the balcony of their new house, but had no conception of how to string it. So it looked rather pitiful. My grandmother came for Christmas and made a valiant attempt at stringing the wheel so that it looked at least plausible, but in her admittance was in no way close to an accurate configuration as she had never operated the wheel and didn't know of anyone who would have. We all had a good laugh at this whole endeavor. Here is a picture of the wheel in said configuration. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015850464392523058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZvhbBiYLTI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/TkQtR45E5_U/s320/spinning+wheel.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The next morning we awoke to this sign (pictured below) attached to the wheel. No one fessed up to creating the sign.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015850820874808642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZvhvxiYLUI/AAAAAAAAAEY/iMGRH-EoC2Y/s320/spinning+wheel+sign.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Oh, the Anderson Christmas is such a colorful event&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-2477630566210341854?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/2477630566210341854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=2477630566210341854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2477630566210341854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2477630566210341854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2007/01/distortions-in-history-of-spinning.html' title='Distortions in the History of Spinning'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZvhbBiYLTI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/TkQtR45E5_U/s72-c/spinning+wheel.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-614503297481303912</id><published>2006-12-29T17:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T17:23:49.597-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Resting Place</title><content type='html'>You know it's bad when the only place you can find rest is in a bathroom stall or the elevator; literally. It's hard to find a resting place around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also when wearing a large name tag you might look like you know more then the average joe and when in an elevator full of people you become an information/map quest center. I just keep telling people that they don't let me out very much and I know nothing, which is mostly true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-614503297481303912?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/614503297481303912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=614503297481303912' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/614503297481303912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/614503297481303912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/resting-place.html' title='Resting Place'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7292661158996305222</id><published>2006-12-28T15:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T15:42:49.927-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Must watch facial expressions</title><content type='html'>Confession of the Day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I struggle with my facial expressions, I have rolled my eyes countless times today (and for the last two days). I have such a hard time containing how frustrated/disgusted/aggravated/ disappointed I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I need your help, if your at the onething conference and you catch me with a nasty look on my face just grab me and give a slap on the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7292661158996305222?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7292661158996305222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7292661158996305222' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7292661158996305222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7292661158996305222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/must-watch-facial-expressions.html' title='Must watch facial expressions'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-3147644239010938402</id><published>2006-12-26T21:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T21:38:05.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I made it</title><content type='html'>1st day of setup is done, I'm in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;PJs&lt;/span&gt;, wearing an icy hot patch, sipping airborne, after just downing my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Mucinex&lt;/span&gt; D and slipping gel sport in soles into my tennis shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an awesome day filled with success and fun. Including the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt; gasoline dance preformed at the shell next to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Uhaul&lt;/span&gt;. We finished in record time and with little debacle. I'm not even kidding, it was like a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I predict good things for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;. It's going to be a fabulous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-3147644239010938402?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/3147644239010938402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=3147644239010938402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/3147644239010938402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/3147644239010938402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-made-it.html' title='I made it'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7822276060437372902</id><published>2006-12-25T02:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:44.757-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Faces of David Totally Annoyed with Me</title><content type='html'>Most of you have not met my brother. He has made a debut on my blog this weekend. One of the traits of our relationship, is me annoying him endlessly and childishly. This is a photo shoot that demonstrates perfectly our relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012560433189745330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZAxKANz8rI/AAAAAAAAADs/WXbK7U-jp4Y/s320/david+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;Kris, Stop&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012560364470268578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZAxGANz8qI/AAAAAAAAADk/1ykoD3iy_R8/s320/david+2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No Really, Kristen I'm not joking, stop (It is at this point he's thinking about smacking me)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012560282865889938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZAxBQNz8pI/AAAAAAAAADc/9OC1QAteTv0/s320/david+3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Kris, stop it, I'm serious (it is at this point he closes his eyes hoping I'll disappear)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012560179786674818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZAw7QNz8oI/AAAAAAAAADU/793bENi9K2U/s320/david+4.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;Kris, this is ridiculous (it is at this point he's so angry he begins to laugh)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012560085297394290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZAw1wNz8nI/AAAAAAAAADM/dh5P7HFHf9k/s320/david+5.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Kris, no really, I'm not kidding, it's not funny, STOP IT (he begins to come towards me)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012560003693015650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZAwxANz8mI/AAAAAAAAADE/_76nPt7FvQ4/s320/david+6.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I can't believe you are acting like such a child, really Kris, stop&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012559934973538898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZAwtANz8lI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Y_4EP2oTzZk/s320/david+7.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;I'm taking the camera from you, you are SO annoying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7822276060437372902?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7822276060437372902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7822276060437372902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7822276060437372902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7822276060437372902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/7-faces-of-david-totally-annoyed-with.html' title='7 Faces of David Totally Annoyed with Me'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RZAxKANz8rI/AAAAAAAAADs/WXbK7U-jp4Y/s72-c/david+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-1155746522546706537</id><published>2006-12-25T02:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-25T02:27:50.737-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wifi Wikipedia Christmas</title><content type='html'>Every Christmas has a theme in my family. There is generally one issue/topic that follows the whole family through the holiday event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year our theme is wifi wikipedia. Every time we have a thought/idea/question we whip out our laptops and wikipedia/google it. It is the beauty of wifi and wikipedia combined with some intellectual thinking. I have created a list of things we have wikipedia'd/googled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are as follows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carrie_Nation"&gt;carrie nation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cat_nip"&gt;cat nip&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_egypt"&gt;population of Egypt during the pyramids&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yucca_mountain"&gt;yucca mountains nuclear plant&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newton.dep.anl.gov/askasci/bio99/bio99047.htm"&gt;do fish sleep?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munchhausen_syndrome"&gt;Munchhausen's Syndrome&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hippies"&gt;the 60's - what made hippies hip&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oct_17"&gt;our birthdays&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belton%2C_MO"&gt;belton, MO&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radon"&gt;radon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lancaster.unl.edu/factsheets/031.htm"&gt;toxicity of house plants&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gogomag.com/yearbooks/yearbooks.htm"&gt;high school year books&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spinning_wheel"&gt;configuration spinning wheel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.merckvetmanual.com/mvm/index.jsp"&gt;antibiotic dosing for intestinal infections in felines&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Container_deposit_legislation"&gt;bottle refunds&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ag.ndsu.edu/pubs/yf/textile/he382w.htm"&gt;toxicity of fabric softeners in septic systems&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_some_Christmas_traditions"&gt;history of Christmas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Double_boiler"&gt;Double boilers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quantrill%27s_Raiders"&gt;Is MO a battle state?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how the Anderson's have a freakish amount of trivial and diverse knowledge. We will talk about anything and we will argue anything, and when we reach impasse we will look it up on the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are tenacious about knowing crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live from the couch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-1155746522546706537?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/1155746522546706537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=1155746522546706537' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/1155746522546706537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/1155746522546706537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/wifi-wikipedia-christmas.html' title='Wifi Wikipedia Christmas'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-5586139970153137340</id><published>2006-12-24T22:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:45.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookie Marathon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RY9FIwNz8gI/AAAAAAAAACA/PNqLvPingFQ/s1600-h/grandma+looking.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012300926970753538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RY9FIwNz8gI/AAAAAAAAACA/PNqLvPingFQ/s320/grandma+looking.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Grandma scooping out chocolate chip goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012301193258725906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RY9FYQNz8hI/AAAAAAAAACI/ND3Q4duFhQg/s320/IMG_0091.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Mark giving a holiday salute&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012301489611469346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RY9FpgNz8iI/AAAAAAAAACQ/EtL0pGFaQBg/s320/IMG_0092.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;David stealing Christmas music from the internet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012301751604474418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RY9F4wNz8jI/AAAAAAAAACY/cHmEabCRSwo/s320/dad+dizzy.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Dad all hopped up on sugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012301983532708418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RY9GGQNz8kI/AAAAAAAAACg/vT0n4OKa8yg/s320/tree.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The Christmas tree, in all it's splendor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Live from the Couch, on Christmas Eve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/19703832-5586139970153137340?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/5586139970153137340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=5586139970153137340' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5586139970153137340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5586139970153137340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/cookie-marathon.html' title='Cookie Marathon'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RY9FIwNz8gI/AAAAAAAAACA/PNqLvPingFQ/s72-c/grandma+looking.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-5211595288393076961</id><published>2006-12-24T14:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T15:05:35.057-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a holly jolly Christmas</title><content type='html'>Live from the couch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're watching the Bears game (Go Chicago). We're eating oranges and a Swedish cheese called Bundst. We're talking about the 60's revolution and America's impetus to change. We have gifts left to buy and wrap. We're trying to stay hungry in anticipation of Jack Stack's tonight. We have cookies to bake, and my Aunt Marge's Sour Cream Cake left to make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;onething is just around the river bend. This of course means that I'm trying not to think about it, but find myself unable to escape. Two days of set-up (26th and 27th) followed up by four days of healthy work. By far the 26th and the 27th is the most work, once we have hit the afternoon on the 28th it's all pretty easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, in the same spirit of Mr. Bohlender, will be blogging live from all things Christmas and all things onething. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;get on your gel in-soles kids, we're approaching the gauntlet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-5211595288393076961?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/5211595288393076961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=5211595288393076961' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5211595288393076961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5211595288393076961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/its-holly-jolly-christmas.html' title='It&apos;s a holly jolly Christmas'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-1537735361548072065</id><published>2006-12-22T15:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:46.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two hours...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYxHQANz8fI/AAAAAAAAAB0/hwYvPVnj6Gw/s1600-h/gee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011458825617928690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYxHQANz8fI/AAAAAAAAAB0/hwYvPVnj6Gw/s400/gee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are only about two hours till I say good-bye to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt; life, and say hello to my Christmas life/impending &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt; life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you'd like to volunteer at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;onething&lt;/span&gt;, this is me recruiting you. Just do it!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-1537735361548072065?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/1537735361548072065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=1537735361548072065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/1537735361548072065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/1537735361548072065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/two-hours.html' title='Two hours...'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYxHQANz8fI/AAAAAAAAAB0/hwYvPVnj6Gw/s72-c/gee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-8283686186275468228</id><published>2006-12-19T15:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T15:42:23.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lurker</title><content type='html'>I'm a lurker. I lurk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you are saying, "ummm no, you're not." But I am, my friends I am, in a very specific context. I lurk on debate forums, both the &lt;a href="http://www.ihop.org/group/group.aspx?id=1000000336"&gt;onething forums &lt;/a&gt;and a few other theology forums. I never post anything I just "lurk". I actually find this to be an incredible way to study. I did a whole thing on Zechariah this way a while back. Super compelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At any rate in my lurking I found &lt;a href="http://www.ihop.org/Forums/Messages.aspx?ThreadID=1000002289&amp;page=1#feedback"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; today and am literally blown away. David Sliker has always been one of my favorite people, but even more so after reading this debate thread. He is clear and kind and has an above par understanding of the scripture (this is me being modest for his sake). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular thread is in relation to the blaspheming of the Holy Spirit. It makes for a very fun read. It's not a long thread, but it is worth reading in it's entirety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage you all: become a lurker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-8283686186275468228?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/8283686186275468228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=8283686186275468228' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8283686186275468228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8283686186275468228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/lurker.html' title='Lurker'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7101830881534230667</id><published>2006-12-15T10:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T10:24:22.309-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rose Among Thorns</title><content type='html'>It's Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I limped into my office today, grumpy and feeling poorly. I've already taken 9 Advil today and it's not 10AM yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I opened my office door, there was a big vase full of roses. There is only one other person with a key to my office so I knew immediately who it was... dearest Alicia, one of my best friends and great assistant/buyer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also a beautiful Christmas card which was more like a letter. It made me cry. It's hard to describe how it feels when someone really sees you, doesn't just compliment you or pat you on the back but really sees you and what your worth. I find myself surround by friends who really see me these days, and that's such a big blessing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - she said that I was one who would remain till the very end (biggest compliment ever)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7101830881534230667?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7101830881534230667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7101830881534230667' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7101830881534230667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7101830881534230667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/rose-among-thorns.html' title='Rose Among Thorns'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-2977087889987839729</id><published>2006-12-14T16:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:46.184-05:00</updated><title type='text'>11 and 2 people, 11 and 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYHJNh1L9II/AAAAAAAAABo/cRhPZxPC6ek/s1600-h/bears.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYHJNh1L9II/AAAAAAAAABo/cRhPZxPC6ek/s320/bears.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008505494869636226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seanhughley.wordpress.com/"&gt;Sean&lt;/a&gt; says I &lt;a href="http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/10-2-people-10-2.html"&gt;rock.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bears posts are only one reason for said rockage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-2977087889987839729?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/2977087889987839729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=2977087889987839729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2977087889987839729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2977087889987839729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/11-and-2-people-11-and-2.html' title='11 and 2 people, 11 and 2'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYHJNh1L9II/AAAAAAAAABo/cRhPZxPC6ek/s72-c/bears.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7722203091018238894</id><published>2006-12-14T08:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T09:06:35.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today in the BlogRoll</title><content type='html'>I read a really great post today from a really great &lt;a href="http://fairchildren.blogspot.com/"&gt;friend&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, today I ask that you would cause hearts to turn around. Let there be a great awakening in the friends that we hold dear. I pray that they would desire something greater then what they know, that their hearts would be filled with great mystery. Draw them to yourself. Awaken their hearts to their great need, to their great emptiness. Jesus, meet them there at the cross.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7722203091018238894?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7722203091018238894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7722203091018238894' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7722203091018238894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7722203091018238894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/today-in-blogroll.html' title='Today in the BlogRoll'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-5812035166798537917</id><published>2006-12-13T11:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:46.322-05:00</updated><title type='text'>onething clothing sweatshop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYAtsh1L9GI/AAAAAAAAABU/64qJpCVwRj0/s1600-h/onething.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008053028654937186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYAtsh1L9GI/AAAAAAAAABU/64qJpCVwRj0/s400/onething.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's right... it's that time of year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Counting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Labeling&lt;br /&gt;Boxing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We do get bathroom breaks, but I haven't decided if we'll eat or not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hear someone yelling "mush, mush." I must go. &lt;/div&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/19703832-5812035166798537917?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/5812035166798537917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=5812035166798537917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5812035166798537917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5812035166798537917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/onething-clothing-sweatshop.html' title='onething clothing sweatshop'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RYAtsh1L9GI/AAAAAAAAABU/64qJpCVwRj0/s72-c/onething.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-4402155402330224244</id><published>2006-12-12T14:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T15:00:40.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NewsFlash</title><content type='html'>Lindsay &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Lohan&lt;/span&gt; hasn't had a drink in a week. Someone give her a medal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just wondering how &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2006/SHOWBIZ/Movies/12/12/people.lindsaylohan.ap/index.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; ended up on the CNN headlines today. Couldn't we just have used yesterdays headline about how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Clooney&lt;/span&gt; doesn't actually think he's the sexiest man alive. Hello: way more interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news: Angelina doesn't plan on marrying Brad. Their relationship used to have such a Beaver Cleaver feel about it, what a plot twist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Kristen, with your Entertainment News Update.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-4402155402330224244?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/4402155402330224244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=4402155402330224244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4402155402330224244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4402155402330224244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/newsflash.html' title='NewsFlash'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7825498298797554184</id><published>2006-12-11T12:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:46.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life of the Highly Stressed</title><content type='html'>I become compulsive when stressed, let me say obsessive compulsive. For many of you that know me you know why December is highly stressful (aside from the typical stresses of December: gift buying, baking/cooking, crazy family members everywhere).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who may not understand, it all revolves around this one post-Christmas event, which is like my regular job but on steroids (the ones the Russians use to win the Olympics). See pictures below. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007318189966088946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RX2RXSZH2vI/AAAAAAAAAAg/g5pJPfDckmE/s320/OT+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007317962332822242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RX2RKCZH2uI/AAAAAAAAAAY/qBHBth4s8hU/s320/OT+021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007318383239617282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RX2RiiZH2wI/AAAAAAAAAAo/W-GvUghOTN8/s320/OT+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;At any rate there are a few ways to deal with this level of stress. Lately I've been going to the gym, maybe not obsessively but as a historical avid non-believer of gyms, I've been going quite a bit. "Does that help?" you ask. The quick answers is "no". I hear it supposed to relieve stress, and it has but only because I'm too tired and sore to think about anything else. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've been going to the 6AM prayer meetings. And that has been really good. Really helps me balance my day out, but also contributes to the tired glazed-over look I have in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I eat, a lot. Enough said, thankfully the work outs make this doable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I shop, side benefit to this is my Christmas shopping is essentially done. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I drive around aimlessly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are about a dozen more things that help, but quite frankly I'm too tired to write them out.&lt;br /&gt;I'll update you as we cruise through December. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7825498298797554184?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7825498298797554184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7825498298797554184' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7825498298797554184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7825498298797554184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/life-of-highly-stressed.html' title='Life of the Highly Stressed'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RX2RXSZH2vI/AAAAAAAAAAg/g5pJPfDckmE/s72-c/OT+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-6581688803141473620</id><published>2006-12-05T11:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T11:56:48.753-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This morning's email</title><content type='html'>Kristen (after describing scary online store problem to British Hamster Overlord) : "It's enough to make a girl say 'the redcoats are coming'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;British Hamster Overlord (after explaining the problem): "Don’t worry about the redcoats – they’re more scared of you than you are of them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think history proved that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-6581688803141473620?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/6581688803141473620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=6581688803141473620' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/6581688803141473620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/6581688803141473620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/this-mornings-email.html' title='This morning&apos;s email'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-2159258827852764921</id><published>2006-12-05T09:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T09:31:29.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>dangers of modern appliances</title><content type='html'>one of the funniest &lt;a href="http://www.jacksonbohlender.com/blog/index.php?entry=entry061203-172902"&gt;posts&lt;/a&gt; I've ever seen... I hope this goes on youtube and implodes, no really I laughed out loud, and I never do that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-2159258827852764921?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/2159258827852764921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=2159258827852764921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2159258827852764921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2159258827852764921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/dangers-of-modern-appliances.html' title='dangers of modern appliances'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-4990906034194487015</id><published>2006-12-05T08:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T08:26:52.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Morning Ponderings</title><content type='html'>Early in the morning everything is a little foggy. Sometimes as I am getting ready, I find myself talking to my cats in my head and surprised when they don't respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At anyrate in this fog this morning I realized that Ed Hackett slightly resembles Tommy Hilfiger. Again, just imagine him in a fog...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-4990906034194487015?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/4990906034194487015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=4990906034194487015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4990906034194487015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4990906034194487015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/early-morning-ponderings.html' title='Early Morning Ponderings'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-1737770504517548735</id><published>2006-12-04T08:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T08:39:11.241-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Reading Dubay</title><content type='html'>From Deep Conversion/Deep Prayer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Needless to say, but I shall say it. Love in a priestly community and that of a consecrated life is best proved not by endless meetings or in talking decade after decade about community. It is proved by giving a daily example of unselfish living, deep contemplative prayer, observing what one has vowed without corrosive and divisive theological and liturgical disobediences or&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;dissent which splits communities and repel healthy young persons from joining them&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to live unselfishly today (I also hope to not fall into liturgical disobediences).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-1737770504517548735?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/1737770504517548735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=1737770504517548735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/1737770504517548735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/1737770504517548735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/still-reading-dubay.html' title='Still Reading Dubay'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7756767632030241528</id><published>2006-12-03T16:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:00:46.955-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10-2 people, 10-2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RXNHU6hzXiI/AAAAAAAAAAM/xF_KmDbdUrk/s1600-h/bears.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004422035572743714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RXNHU6hzXiI/AAAAAAAAAAM/xF_KmDbdUrk/s320/bears.gif" 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/19703832-7756767632030241528?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7756767632030241528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7756767632030241528' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7756767632030241528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7756767632030241528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/10-2-people-10-2.html' title='10-2 people, 10-2'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A4bplg0B-kU/RXNHU6hzXiI/AAAAAAAAAAM/xF_KmDbdUrk/s72-c/bears.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-2954905823584517803</id><published>2006-12-02T23:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-02T23:34:43.762-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Live from the couch</title><content type='html'>just got out of the hot tub, all wrinkly, this is the life...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-2954905823584517803?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/2954905823584517803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=2954905823584517803' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2954905823584517803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/2954905823584517803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/12/live-from-couch.html' title='Live from the couch'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-8935508529717844682</id><published>2006-11-29T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T11:02:40.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm having troubles with my first...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Second life&lt;/em&gt; is, I guess, something that's been around for a while, but I'm just hearing about it. Mostly because it's just starting to hit the CNN headlines, my main source for all things "news". For all of you who don't know what I'm talking about check out &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_life"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; article in wikipedia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Second Life (SL) is a privately owned, partly subscription-based 3-D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;virtual world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, made publicly available in 2003 by San Francisco-based &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Linden Lab&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;and founded by former &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;RealNetworks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;CTO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Philip Rosedale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;. The Second Life "world" resides in a large array of servers that are owned and maintained by Linden Lab, known collectively as "the grid".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; The Second Life client program provides its users (referred to as Residents) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;with tools to view and modify the SL world and participate in its virtual economy, which concurrently has begun to operate as a "real" market. At precisely 8:05:45 AM PDT, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;October 18&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, the population of Second Life hit 1 million Residents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon first hearing about it, I wasn't too surprised and I kind of thought the idea was cool. Like a Myspace in three-dimension. But then I was reading about it and saw the insane amount of people who had subscribed I thought, there must be some sort of draw, why would grown adults be doing this? True to this theory there are some really immoral things that occur in this "second life". No real shock there, and it looks to be myspace(cubed) in terms of portal of darkness stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday I was reading an article in CNN/Fortune and they were talking about adults who are making thousands and yes even millions of dollars in these fantasy worlds. Not monopoly money folks, real hard cash. They mostly develop "special" weapons or they develop land in these "worlds" and resell it to other people in these worlds for the currency of that world (second life has Linden Dollars; L$243/USD). As I'm typing this, I keep thinking this is so ridiculous. At any rate the Linden Lab (creators of Second Life) have a currency exchange so you can turn in your Linden bucks for real money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At any rate, I'm reading this article about people making ridiculous sums of money off of fantasy creations; land/goods that don't really exist (except for in this fantasy world) and I am stunned that people would buy this stuff and stunned that people can make a living like this; but then I think, really, I am doing the same thing. Look at this quote from the article:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Though we readily accept the puzzling valuations that our society attaches to real-world things like diamonds, Louis Vuitton bags, pet rocks, or bottled water, many can't get their minds around the notion of paying for flickering shadows that can never be extracted from the planar surface of an LCD monitor. Yet so much of our economy revolves around buying prestige, status, and fun--rather than food, shelter, and clothing--that there is scant basis for wonder. This weird new commerce reflects simply the growing importance that virtual worlds are playing in the lives of our children, our colleagues, and--like it or not--ourselves. The more time we spend as avatars in synthetic worlds, the more money we will have to shell out keeping up with the Joneses' avatars.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to take this one step further, most the cash I am dropping might as well be spent on a fantasy life, it's not real. The things I purchase are all going to be burned up one day, they have no real eternal value. I cannot take them with me. I'm really just developing a "fantasy lifestyle" or a second life. I, too, am buying into a fantasy, granted I do have real living expenses, I'm not all referring to those things, I'm just thinking of the &lt;a href="http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/04/first-ebay-purchase.html"&gt;frivolous things&lt;/a&gt;, the things the don't have near the value I place on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm going to be rethinking those Gucci sunglasses I found on eBay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-8935508529717844682?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/8935508529717844682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=8935508529717844682' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8935508529717844682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8935508529717844682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/im-having-troubles-with-my-first.html' title='I&apos;m having troubles with my first...'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-4613436515174647427</id><published>2006-11-26T03:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T03:25:46.198-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not my own</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/520402/i%20will%20choose.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’m tired of people telling me that my body is my own, that whatever I chose to do with it is my right. I’m tired of people talking about my rights, telling me what my rights are. How about this? I reserve the right, to know my rights, and deny any rights I don’t feel are my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stated earlier this week, that I am a pro-life liberal. I am also a historical feminist; the Susan B Anthony type, the pro-life type. I believe in equal pay for equal work. I want to be judged by my character not my skirt length. I believe any type of violence against women should not be tolerated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that being said, modern feminism, that confuses the good of equal rights with the right to kill children, just infuriates me. This type of feminism does this under the guise of the right to choose what I want to do with my body. I read a poem from this view point in a teacher’s resource catalog. It was on a poster to be put in a classroom. I'm tempted to post a picture, but it's so appaling I just can't. This poem told me that “priests and legislators do not hold shares in my womb or my mind.” It told me that my body was my own. It went on to inform me that my life was a “non-negotiable demand.” How foolish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not my own, my body is not my own, anything that will ever live in it or be born out of it will not be my own. I am not confused, I am not addled. I am not brainwashed by religious forces in my life. I am not controlled by shame or guilt. There is something bigger then me. There is someone who supersedes my rights, my life. I am not my own. I do not demand my own life. Who am I to demand such things? Who am I to declare my own rights? I am not my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put that on a poster. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-4613436515174647427?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/4613436515174647427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=4613436515174647427' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4613436515174647427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4613436515174647427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-am-not-my-own.html' title='I am not my own'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-192848463502381064</id><published>2006-11-23T16:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T16:41:50.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet Tommy</title><content type='html'>Live from the living room couch...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate raw poultry, I'm so disgusted I can barely keep my eyes open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bleh!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/984007/tukey%20day%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/320/296258/tukey%20day%203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/974547/turkey%20day%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/320/46926/turkey%20day%202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/833218/turkey%20day%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/320/576936/turkey%20day%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-192848463502381064?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/192848463502381064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=192848463502381064' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/192848463502381064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/192848463502381064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/meet-tommy.html' title='Meet Tommy'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-715570056998864158</id><published>2006-11-22T22:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T22:45:43.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Tomato</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/734212/sweet.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/320/640084/sweet.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, in a prep run for Thanksgiving,  me and some friends (Amanda, Dale, Hartke, and Matthias) went to the coolest buffet in town. Salad, soup, bread, pizza, and a frozen yogurt bar!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We needed to start the stomach/intestinal stretches for the big day. Yum. Did I say that there will be a hot tub at my Thanksgiving feast? My life rocks!!  More, live from the couch, tomorrow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-715570056998864158?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/715570056998864158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=715570056998864158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/715570056998864158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/715570056998864158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/sweet-tomato.html' title='Sweet Tomato'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7854022859039231286</id><published>2006-11-21T08:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T08:59:22.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Conversion/Deep Prayer</title><content type='html'>I'm reading &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Deep-Conversion-Prayer-Thomas-Dubay/dp/1586171178/sr=8-1/qid=1164117491/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-8332781-7252626?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books"&gt;this book &lt;/a&gt;by Thomas Dubay (I love his other books, &lt;em&gt;Fire Within&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;Evidential Power of Beauty&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The basic idea is that we, as Christians, want to continue in deep growth past the initial point of conversion. Just as we turned from deathly moral depravity, we also want to turn from the "smaller" willed sins and even further we want to be like Jesus in everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a great quote from today: "When honest men love objective reality, the way things actually are, and then go on to pursue the goodness of all the virtues and are sensitive to genuine beauty, they are like starving men before a banquet. He immediately sees the answers to his needs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, may I be a lover of truth, a seer of beauty, let me see the answer to my needs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7854022859039231286?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7854022859039231286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7854022859039231286' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7854022859039231286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7854022859039231286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/deep-conversiondeep-prayer.html' title='Deep Conversion/Deep Prayer'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-413676149368715487</id><published>2006-11-20T00:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T00:28:25.858-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Dearest Tech</title><content type='html'>Thank you Tyler, your late night help was invaluable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-413676149368715487?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/413676149368715487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=413676149368715487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/413676149368715487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/413676149368715487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/oh-dearest-tech.html' title='Oh Dearest Tech'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-8161666827133245556</id><published>2006-11-19T17:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T18:00:19.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>9 and 1 people, 9 and 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/460629/bears.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/400/577182/bears.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/19703832-8161666827133245556?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/8161666827133245556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=8161666827133245556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8161666827133245556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/8161666827133245556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/9-and-1-people-9-and-1.html' title='9 and 1 people, 9 and 1'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-5051319637394299110</id><published>2006-11-19T01:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T01:21:48.082-05:00</updated><title type='text'>End-Times Diorama of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/962497/katie"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/320/677857/katie%27s%20diorama.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/962497/katie"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of you may recall a certain birthday activity we had for one of our dearest office comrades, Dale. We each made an End-Times diorama with her as a main character in an End-Times scenario.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This diorama is brought to us by Katie Peterson. It is Dale, as a martyr(headless), under the altar. You'll notice Dale's blood is crying out for justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet another piece of end-times art for all of you to ponder. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-5051319637394299110?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/5051319637394299110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=5051319637394299110' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5051319637394299110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/5051319637394299110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/end-times-diorama-of-day.html' title='End-Times Diorama of the Day'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-4365499416582634326</id><published>2006-11-18T00:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T01:00:11.409-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last of an Era</title><content type='html'>Tonight I finished a journal I started five years ago. There are two factors to this incredibly long journal life. 1) I have multiple journals stashed in various corners of my life and 2)  I don't really like journaling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find that I am a poor recorder of events, not because of my memory, but more that I get bored as I write the story out. I am more of a scream and shout journaler. I'm more of a gusher. When things are overflowing then I need to write it out. Of course I don't record any of the context, but tonight I was reading the geysers of emotions and realized that I don't really need context to figure out what was happening. I remember most of it with clarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My emotions are like mile markers, I know where I am by how I feel. I know where I've been by my tone and voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At anyrate tonight ended a little book filled with a lot of me. Tomorrow, I imagine, will include a trip to Barnes and Noble for another little book.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-4365499416582634326?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/4365499416582634326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=4365499416582634326' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4365499416582634326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/4365499416582634326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/last-of-era.html' title='Last of an Era'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7279246414983340604</id><published>2006-11-16T20:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T20:40:29.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions</title><content type='html'>I have three confessions for the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I am a pro-life liberal&lt;br /&gt;2) I never and still don't like U2&lt;br /&gt;3) I'm addicted to &lt;em&gt;Dog: The Bounty Hunter&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7279246414983340604?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7279246414983340604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7279246414983340604' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7279246414983340604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7279246414983340604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/confessions.html' title='Confessions'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-3129856794806228173</id><published>2006-11-15T23:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T23:50:55.221-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Changes</title><content type='html'>I was driving around tonight, just relaxing. I was thinking about prayers I had prayed over the last few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been praying that the Lord would change how my heart felt about people or situations. As I thought of all the times I've prayed variations of this prayer, and I am amazed at how the Lord has answered it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been times when I loved people and asked the Lord to remove it and he has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been times when I have distrusted people and asked the Lord to change it and he has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been times when I disliked people and asked the Lord to change it and he really, really has; in such a way that I am moved to tears for them in prayer, when I see them I can barely keep it together, it is a totally supernatural thing. I can't change how I feel, I cannot move my own heart. But He is gracious to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a hit list kids, make a list of feelings you want to change, cry out spontaneously whenever you feel it. Check up on it in a few months, and I'll bet you'll see movement.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-3129856794806228173?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/3129856794806228173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=3129856794806228173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/3129856794806228173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/3129856794806228173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/little-changes.html' title='Little Changes'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-7950958219785811142</id><published>2006-11-15T12:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T12:19:33.497-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Toddler in all of us.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2072/2405/1600/sippie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2072/2405/320/sippie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is part of the Christmas that came early, it's so cute. It just kills me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-7950958219785811142?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/7950958219785811142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=7950958219785811142' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7950958219785811142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/7950958219785811142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/for-toddler-in-all-of-us.html' title='For the Toddler in all of us.'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116346103145953943</id><published>2006-11-13T18:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:59.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Come Early</title><content type='html'>Ever had a day when all the good things you've been waiting for (and several things you didn't expect) arrive suddenly and all at once?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really a glorious feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I received today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) numerous comments on my cute new sweater&lt;br /&gt;2) huge new t-shirt display&lt;br /&gt;3) onething clothing&lt;br /&gt;4) onething nalgene sippie cups&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just makes a girl feel giddy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116346103145953943?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116346103145953943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116346103145953943' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116346103145953943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116346103145953943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/christmas-come-early.html' title='Christmas Come Early'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116318595399514167</id><published>2006-11-10T13:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:59.367-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This just in...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/mary%20lou.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/mary%20lou.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two members of an un-named department were just seen running and vaulting themselves over the iron railing out front of the bookstore like it was a pommel horse. They proceeded to run over to the gas station like their pants were on fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone should tell them they aren't in Dukes of Hazard nor are they on US Women's Gymnastics team. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/bo%20and%20luke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/bo%20and%20luke.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116318595399514167?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116318595399514167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116318595399514167' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116318595399514167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116318595399514167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/this-just-in.html' title='This just in...'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116292143610080199</id><published>2006-11-07T12:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:59.159-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dolls, aren't we dolls?</title><content type='html'>This is one of those late night ponderings when friends are just talking and you all realize something about yourselves which may or may not make much sense the next morning. Somehow we began a conversation in which we were all characterized by dolls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my friend my Katie P as a doll.. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chatty_Kathy"&gt;Chatty Kathy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/chatty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/chatty.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is dearest Amanda as a doll... &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holly_Hobbie"&gt;Holly Hobbie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/holly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/holly.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rachel and I are of course... &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bratz"&gt;da Bratz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/bratzl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/bratzl.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right we are dolls!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116292143610080199?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116292143610080199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116292143610080199' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116292143610080199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116292143610080199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/dolls-arent-we-dolls.html' title='Dolls, aren&apos;t we dolls?'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116258794400886189</id><published>2006-11-03T15:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:58.974-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Genius, Pure Genius</title><content type='html'>Dennis and the crew at Higher Grounds have yet another winner on their hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/bacon%20potato.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/bacon%20potato.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just ate the most amazing baked potato. It was the size of my face. It had chili and sour cream and cheese and chives, and it was the size of my face. I don't know if they imported these potatoes from Fiji or what. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has to try it. It's filling, it's fun, and it's the size of your face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116258794400886189?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116258794400886189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116258794400886189' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116258794400886189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116258794400886189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/11/genius-pure-genius.html' title='Genius, Pure Genius'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116196175733755499</id><published>2006-10-27T10:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:58.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/boyznew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/boyznew.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/boys2.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/boys2.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clyde is on the left and Buck is on the right&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116196175733755499?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116196175733755499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116196175733755499' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116196175733755499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116196175733755499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/10/baby-boys.html' title='Baby Boys'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116189165141863936</id><published>2006-10-26T15:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:58.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is why I dislike dogs</title><content type='html'>Check out Char and Jesse's &lt;a href="http://wellblueproductions.blogspot.com/"&gt;Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116189165141863936?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116189165141863936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116189165141863936' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116189165141863936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116189165141863936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/10/this-is-why-i-dislike-dogs.html' title='This is why I dislike dogs'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116180246041298629</id><published>2006-10-25T14:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:58.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trifecta of Cuteness (minus one not so cute thing)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/kitten.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/kitten.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents bought two beautiful Siamese kittens last Saturday. They are soooo cute. The cat pictured above isn't one of them, but they look just like him. These two new additions join my parents cat Bonnie (a 4 year old tabby they rescued). Bonnie is a mean cat. She hates people and being touched/held/played with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my parents go out of town, I'll go over to the house to feed Bonnie and she hisses at me the whole time, literally from the moment I open the door she'll stand up on two feet to be pet once, but any attempt to pet after that first pet; she hisses. I lay down her food bowl and she hisses at me before taking the first bite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now Bonnie has two kittens to hiss at, which actually seems to make her hatred of me more intense. Now she just looks at me and hisses, no contact necessary. I'm sure she thinks I'm behind the kitten plot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new kittens names are Clyde and Buck, which makes the three of them historically accurate gangsters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116180246041298629?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116180246041298629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116180246041298629' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116180246041298629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116180246041298629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/10/trifecta-of-cuteness-minus-one-not-so.html' title='Trifecta of Cuteness (minus one not so cute thing)'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116128565139932353</id><published>2006-10-19T15:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:57.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I (heart) British Hamsters</title><content type='html'>I would just like to say a big thank you to the British Hamster colonies who saved my butt today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally it's the hamsters who fall off their little wheels and trip up the other little hamsters and make my life miserable. But last week I tripped and landed on their hamster cage and managed to obliterate a little hamster civilization and make the lives of many people miserable (including hamster master and trainer; Sir Steve). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to all the little hamster lives I've threatened. In my greatest hour of need they reboarded their little wheels and chugged on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless them, everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116128565139932353?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116128565139932353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116128565139932353' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116128565139932353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116128565139932353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-heart-british-hamsters.html' title='I (heart) British Hamsters'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116075423444472567</id><published>2006-10-13T11:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:57.334-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to the Pork Baby</title><content type='html'>To the only friend who loved trivial pursuit as much as I did, to the one of the few who loved Arrested Development, to the only guy who could wear a mullet wig with a high sense of fashion, to a guy who loved listening to Counting Crows greatest hits and remembering where we where when each song came out, to a guy who loved true American muscle cars, to a guy who loved Jesus well and pointed all those around him to a Healer, to a guy who was confident in God's love, to a guy who was the first baby born in October hence "the Pork Baby of Kansas".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you Luke, give the Man a high five for me. We'll see you soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116075423444472567?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116075423444472567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116075423444472567' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116075423444472567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116075423444472567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/10/ode-to-pork-baby.html' title='Ode to the Pork Baby'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116037150359065721</id><published>2006-10-09T01:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:57.161-05:00</updated><title type='text'>uggg</title><content type='html'>yep, that's all, uggg, that's as articulate as I can be, uggggg.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116037150359065721?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116037150359065721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116037150359065721' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116037150359065721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116037150359065721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/10/uggg.html' title='uggg'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-116006197399821452</id><published>2006-10-05T11:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:56.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Didn't Leave a Mark</title><content type='html'>Today I can happily say I have no bruises on my face. I'm thinking this is some type of miracle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was setting up for conference in the back office area dusting some bookshelves and a 8 foot 3inch wide aluminum pipe rolled off the top of the bookshelf and hit me in the face, right on the bridge of my nose. I heard one of my employees say "ooooo that didn't sound good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew saw it happen and immediately came to me and started to pray in tongues. Hartke got me Kleenex just in time as my nose began a lovely gush of blood. This is not, I'm sorry to say, the first time these two boys have seen me cry. I'm sure they still remember the disaster at inventory, which started more like laughter and then turned to sobbing. Very scary, especially for guys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd also like to say that this is not the first time I've been hit in the face at the bookstore. Once when I was cashier and stooped down to get something, when I stood up I smashed my temple into the corner of the cash drawer. Saw stars, but had to act like nothing had happened for the customer's sake. I cried later in the bathroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once while helping a customer, a DVD somehow flew out of his hand and hit me smack in the middle of my face. I was already pretty frustrated with the situation, and being hit in the face definitely kicked it up a level, in fact I actually just walked away from the customer to compose myself, all the while Kirk was snickering behind the counter thinking I'm sure, "Kristen is gonna kill this guy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that to say, my face is a little sore this morning, I'm just glad I don't have two black eyes. That could have made the women's conference a little more awkward for everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would also like to just point out for the record, that Pipe and Drape has been the bane of my bookstore existence for the last two years. There is always something annoying happening with it or to it. Finally, the pipes, being so against me have decided to launch a physical assault against my face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to the conference, may it be more enjoyable then a pipe hitting you in the face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-116006197399821452?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/116006197399821452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=116006197399821452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116006197399821452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/116006197399821452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/10/didnt-leave-mark.html' title='Didn&apos;t Leave a Mark'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115956357101032495</id><published>2006-09-29T16:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:56.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the Little Things</title><content type='html'>I'm coming to realize how much the little things in my life keep me sane. I shall list these little things so some level of sanity might be found by those who seek it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)Sunroof - driving down farm roads in the middle of the night with your sunroof open, looking up to see brightly lit sky - amazing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)Wake Up calls - every morning my siamese cat (or beast) crawls onto my bed, stalks my face and shoves his nose against mine, while purring like a freight train. He falls asleep with his head under my chin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)Vitamin B Complex - keeps my nerves connected&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)Vanilla Almond Tea a Lait - knowing that as I open the coffee shop door and nod to the barrista my drink is being made&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)A good pair of jeans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)my iPod - playing the following lately: &lt;em&gt;Continuum&lt;/em&gt;, John Mayer; &lt;em&gt;Stand Still Look Pretty&lt;/em&gt;, The Wreakers; &lt;em&gt;Everything in Transit&lt;/em&gt;, Jack's Mannaquin; &lt;em&gt;Eyes Open&lt;/em&gt;, Snow Patrol; &lt;em&gt;Inside the Sounds of Breaking Down&lt;/em&gt;, John Mark McMillan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)Mucinex D - the wonder drug&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)My assistant - she bought me flowers this week, oh how I love her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)My ESV wide margin Bible - making reading so much more interactive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)Vitamin Water - yum&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115956357101032495?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115956357101032495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115956357101032495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115956357101032495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115956357101032495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/09/its-little-things.html' title='It&apos;s the Little Things'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115941922941954375</id><published>2006-09-28T00:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:56.626-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hit a bunny...</title><content type='html'>and I laughed out loud to myself. I'd like to say that my responses to killing little furry and innocent animals are becoming concerning even to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this is a funny story so I must tell it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm driving along on a dark and wet road when a bunny jumps right in front of my car. I think to myself he's small he'll squat and go right under my car and be unscathed. Then the bunny sees me and begins to panic. I think surely he will panic and move out of the way. Instead he jumps straight up into the air and flails his limbs all about. That's when I hit him, mid air, mid flail, right with my head light. And I just laughed. I laugh now even thinking about it, it is so ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ironic thing is that; I am this bunny. When I was little I hated the game of tag, I hated the game of dodgeball, and I hated those stupid camp mock war games. I hated the feeling of knowing I was caught and the panic of moment when you are about to be tagged/shot/tapped/tackled. I concluded the fastest way around this horror was to simply sit in one place unmoving/unplaying until I could be declared out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At anyrate the bunny reminded me of that feeling of panic, when you could move out of the way, but instead you are so freaked out that you simply jump up, flail about and get smashed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other ironic thing is that today I was that bunny in a different way. I was in one of those surprise situations that reveals how you really feel, the real state of your heart. I jumped up in agitation, only to be smashed by the realization that I need to die/I'm not dead yet. Uggg. Oh, the awkward flailing of self realization, oh, the deafening thud of pride hitting a headlight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I killed a bunny today, that bunny was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should rename this blog; meditations on roadkill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115941922941954375?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115941922941954375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115941922941954375' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115941922941954375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115941922941954375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-hit-bunny.html' title='I hit a bunny...'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115844034049694696</id><published>2006-09-16T16:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:56.435-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote of the Week</title><content type='html'>"I'd like to give him a spicy Jesus roll." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen Baldwin about trying to evangelise Tom Cruise over a sushi lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115844034049694696?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115844034049694696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115844034049694696' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115844034049694696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115844034049694696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/09/quote-of-week.html' title='Quote of the Week'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115794977581829846</id><published>2006-09-11T00:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:56.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Women with tools</title><content type='html'>It's the Sunday after conference, that should indicate a need for rest and relaxation, well it does indicate that, I just didn't fulfill that need. Instead I hoped over to my parents house to see how the home improvement projects are going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should be said that for most people this house would be move in ready. Not my parents, they are particular. I was talking to Mark about it on the phone and we both laughed and joked that they should have just called in a wreaking ball and started from scratch. My parents are very particular. They like the hardwood floors and certain types of tiles, and faucets and appliances and drains, and shower heads, and porches and well, houses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So first home improvement project is removing laminate floors and installing hardwood floors, all by ourselves. Yum. Upon arriving and seeing the pace at which we were progressing, I felt the need to jump in. I announced I could saw. My father looked at me with high eyebrows, but humored me. So I became compound miter saw Kristen. I was fabulous. I had my own safety glasses and everything. As things progressed I measured and sawed. My mother picked out and quality checked each board, and my father hammered them in with an "oversized stapler" and sledge hammer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father took us out for steak and key lime pie as thanks for our help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got about half way done, and dear old Dad will have to sand them, stain them, and seal them. My parents are crazy and they are getting too old for this back breaking labor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan on steering clear of the house the next few days, or my Dad might hand me the floor sander, and all of our hard work would be for naught.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115794977581829846?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115794977581829846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115794977581829846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115794977581829846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115794977581829846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/09/women-with-tools.html' title='Women with tools'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115775728946537542</id><published>2006-09-08T18:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:55.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Years and counting...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/7%20year.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/7%20year.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IHOP is working on their 7 year anniversary (and a feast to end all feasts). I'm really excited to be here during this time. There is a certain amount of joy I feel about being involved with this place. It's home to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking today to some of my staff, a lot of them are new because we've transitioned a lot of people in the last year, and I really felt at home with them, I enjoy them and I enjoy getting to know them. When I first started this job I hired and worked with people I already knew, I can't really do that anymore, so it's given me the opportunity to stretch out and get to know a lot more people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to all the people who help me keep going, who bless this base in more ways then will ever be known: Alicia, Stacey, Matt H, Dale, Char, Jesse, Matthias, Katie, Amanda, Rachel, Robert, Linda, Mandy, Vernon (and team), John, Becca, Vicki, Lauren. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys are all in my heart and I thank God when I see and remember you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115775728946537542?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115775728946537542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115775728946537542' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115775728946537542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115775728946537542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/09/7-years-and-counting.html' title='7 Years and counting...'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115766994612925957</id><published>2006-09-07T18:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:55.795-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Derek Webb's New Album is Free!!</title><content type='html'>This is a great album and it's free. In a world where you pay for everything, some good things really are free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.freederekwebb.com/pages/index.aspx"&gt;Check it out&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115766994612925957?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115766994612925957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115766994612925957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115766994612925957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115766994612925957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/09/derek-webbs-new-album-is-free.html' title='Derek Webb&apos;s New Album is Free!!'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115708517194906237</id><published>2006-09-01T00:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:55.655-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hit another possum...</title><content type='html'>This time I didn't turn around, I just gunned it and smiled. Clearly it had been one of those days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it did remind me of the scariest roadkill experience ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was riding in the car with Katie on Blue River Road coming back from Walmart. We were talking and all of a sudden we hit a possum. She freaked out and I told here it was probably just a log or something. But nooooo... she had to turn around to make sure it was dead and to kill it if it wasn't. I begged her not to, but around we turned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found him and turned around again so we had him right in our headlights. He was lying there with his eyes wideopen sort of wafting in wind. I kept blinking and staring and I finally declared, "yeah, he's dead." Then all of a sudden the upper half of his body began to lift off the pavement. I screamed so loud I was sure that the glass was going to shatter. He was like a zombie, I turned away at this point still screaming, "CHUCKIE!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie says he lifted up his front paws and began to drag himself off the road. I couldn't look, all I could do was scream, sure that he would attach himself to our car and haunt us for all of our days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't and I eventually overcame the trauma of that night, and I've maimed another creature this week, I didn't turn around to check the status. I gunned it and just kept moving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm becoming desensitized to violence, maybe I've been watching to much ER.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115708517194906237?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115708517194906237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115708517194906237' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115708517194906237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115708517194906237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-hit-another-possum.html' title='I hit another possum...'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115595517069804317</id><published>2006-08-18T22:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:55.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Shopping on Amazon right now, and as I searched for a new book it suggested a book I read when I was in high school. It suggested a book called, &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0830816062/sr=1-1/qid=1155953733/ref=sr_1_1/102-2011174-4028165?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books"&gt;"What a about those who have never heard?" &lt;/a&gt;It was a book about what happened to those who have never heard the gospel preached before they died... hell? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was question that was haunting me at the time, due to a very moving and excruciating evangelism experience I had just had. This one evangelism experience has in many ways turned me away from street evangelism altogether&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was maybe in 10th grade, and as a youth group we had to go out to this place where young people gathered and share the gospel with strangers, I had an odd zeal and boldness at the time and was quite smart. I went in feeling scared but somewhat confident I could accurately articulate my thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was totally unprepared. This "hang out" was a place where college age kids hung out and did wicca or drugs or philosophized about who knows what... It was in this place we were to try to share the gospel... cold turkey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These kids were smart and brutal and angry. I got pounded over and over. They made me tell them that they were going to hell over and over. Probably just to make me uncomfortable. But in truth most of them were quite content with this reality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One guy in particular took the time to really talk to me, he seemed concerned that I so blindly followed such foolishness. He asked me a lot of questions he knew I couldn't answer and he admitted I was at quite an unfair advantage and he appreciated my willingness to come out and be "slaughtered".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me what happened to those who never heard the gospel. I had no answer except that God was just and sovereign and he would judge righteously. Not good enough. Now I would say that it's a moot point. There is no one who "has never heard". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny that I would come across this tonight, because I've thought twice about this guy this week, and I haven't thought about him in years. I was driving somewhere and just randomly I began to think and pray for him. I wonder what God has and is doing in his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do know that this conversation turned me inside out. I spent the next year questioning everything, not because this guys arguments were very compelling, they weren't. But he challenged me to really think about what I believed and why. Thankfully I had a fabulous theology teacher and she never questioned my need to question. She just kept handing me rigorous materials, and she let me struggle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately I came to believe in the God of my fathers', but it was my own. I'm struggling right now not with foundational doctrine but with the finer points. It makes me think that God has his hand on this foundational search and this deeper search, he is guiding me through a series of events to go deeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I trust his prompting? Do I trust that he will lead both my head and my heart? I would say yes. I would say that he is good. But even as I say that my thoughts hesitate, I'm stuttering in my spirit. The hesitation is two fold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Will he really guide my theology? Is that realistic?  &lt;br /&gt;         -lots of people ask for this and yet arrive at different conclusions&lt;br /&gt;2) Will he really guide my heart? &lt;br /&gt;         -where has he been this last year and half?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's me being really honest. I trust him, but today it's because I know it's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, you are true and righteous. Lead me in a way that is higher than myself. Help me find a sure path. Quiet my noisy heart with your love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[end dear diary moment]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115595517069804317?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115595517069804317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115595517069804317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115595517069804317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115595517069804317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/08/shopping-on-amazon-right-now-and-as-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115540385833617762</id><published>2006-08-12T13:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:55.287-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conference Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/pirates.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/400/pirates.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pirate Fun - David Scoggan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture, drawn in MS Paint, depicts the level of fun we are having at the conference this year. May I add that the talent I have on staff is inestimable. They never cease to amaze me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115540385833617762?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115540385833617762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115540385833617762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115540385833617762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115540385833617762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/08/conference-fun.html' title='Conference Fun'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115412181737527445</id><published>2006-07-28T17:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:55.088-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winch Who Stole My Catholic Encyclopedias</title><content type='html'>This has been an odd and bizarre week. But finally someone has come and collected the most bizarre item we have received in bookstore history. I say this with confidence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here lies the story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we received like 30 boxes of books. The day before that we received roughly the same amount. We have been drowning in books. Really really drowning. Yesterday as Victor's bringing the last box he says with a curious look, "This box has a chain in it." Hmmm we look at him, but don't think much of it being as we are drowning in work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours later we are receiving catholic encyclopedias for a FSM order, when we open up box 2 of 2 we find, instead of catholic encyclopedias, this piece of equipment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/winch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/400/winch.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm you say? Yeah I know. There were included in the box two large hydraulic shafts, two chains, and a steel hook. Early on in this discovery I declared this equipment to be a jackhammer. Upon further investigation, it is a hydraulic industrial winch. For several hours we all called it a wench, which is not the same thing, nor is it a hydraulic wrench or witch. It's a winch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more interesting is that the packing slip for my encyclopedias is inside the box with the winch. Hmmmmmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The catholic publisher was just as confused as we were and so the winch became IHOP property and a cheery British man just carried it away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oddest thing we have ever received, and now that it's gone I kind of miss it. It would have made a nice bookstore pet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115412181737527445?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115412181737527445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115412181737527445' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115412181737527445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115412181737527445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/07/winch-who-stole-my-catholic.html' title='The Winch Who Stole My Catholic Encyclopedias'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115386107746338127</id><published>2006-07-25T16:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:54.899-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Two Weeks in Review</title><content type='html'>Get back from Denver. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clean the house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday 17th &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step through bookstore door, simultaneously wished I had stayed home&lt;br /&gt;Day explodes, get almost nothing done&lt;br /&gt;Go Home and sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday 18th&lt;/strong&gt;Better day, not by much&lt;br /&gt;Nearly die in heat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wednesday 19th&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading and studying Zechariah 14, blown away&lt;br /&gt;Create pie graphs for marketing meeting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thursday 20th&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spend all day battling with computer&lt;br /&gt;Creatively name all files after Native American Tragedies&lt;br /&gt;Luck with computers directly tied with names, bad idea&lt;br /&gt;Miss meeting (initiated by myself) with other very busy department head&lt;br /&gt;Nearly scalp myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday 21st&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't get my head out of Zechariah 14&lt;br /&gt;Mathias gives in office history lesson on North Korea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday 22nd&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throw party for Char and Jesse's Wedding&lt;br /&gt;Leave party and see Lady in the Water (blah is how I feel about it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday 23rd &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bickle preaches out of Zechariah 14&lt;br /&gt;Someone hands me $50&lt;br /&gt;Unload parents moving "van" aka semi&lt;br /&gt;Trick friends into helping&lt;br /&gt;Fill my entire two car garage with their stuff&lt;br /&gt;Many boxes labeled "Kristen's Books"&lt;br /&gt;Other boxes labeled "71 Mustang Steering" "69 Mustang heater" "71 Mustang linkage"&lt;br /&gt;Take my parents to Steak and Shake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday the 24th&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marketing Meeting, no one is excited by pie graphs&lt;br /&gt;Saw Scanner Darkly, way better then Lady in the Water, but had some issues&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tuesday the 25th&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake up with killer headache&lt;br /&gt;Take Gummi Vitamins&lt;br /&gt;Take Advil&lt;br /&gt;Run a bunch or errands&lt;br /&gt;Drank sweet tea&lt;br /&gt;Met with busy department head, she's so cool&lt;br /&gt;Began reading Ezekiel 38 and 39&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115386107746338127?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115386107746338127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115386107746338127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115386107746338127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115386107746338127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/07/last-two-weeks-in-review.html' title='Last Two Weeks in Review'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115267141188712915</id><published>2006-07-11T22:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:54.741-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Grand and Infamous Jordan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/blessed%20day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/400/blessed%20day.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey All. I'm in Denver this week at the International Christian Retailing Convention. Katie, Dale and I are here till Thursday. Katie and I are pictured with one of our favorite vendors, Jordan. Really great guy, him and the guys at IPG are winning some huge brownie points. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should be said that most often people ignore us, we look like children of bookstore managers. Today we were told we didn't look old enough to be managing, and it's true, the IHOP youth movement has infiltrated all aspects of the mission base. We are quite the buying duo... out of control is probably more accurate. We've had quite a few people laughing so hard they had to stop what they were doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just give you a few of the highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dale going up to two random guys asking for directions. Turns out they were Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins. They let her know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dale telling us the story and Katie asking, "Who are they?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Katie spilling bath salts all over Jordan's desk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Katie reaching to get something out of her eye, and Jordan saying, "uugggg, looks like we have an eyeball toucher."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jordan then regaling us with a story about a marrage counseler who made her couples lick each other's eyeballs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Me dramatically emphasizing how gross I thought that was (with wild hand movement)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Katie (at my request) getting the Joel Osteen board game off the display and both of us making fun of it - one of the playing cards said "Choose to be happy." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/bestlife%20game.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/400/bestlife%20game.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- At one vendor we just grabbed all the books we liked from their displays and popped them down at the desk and said, "this is what we want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We've had pictures taken with circus performers, Indian chief, and a huge Goliath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- People have tried to sell us dolls, puppets, tracts, toys, barbies, scripture candy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's quite the event, I'm sure I'll have more stories later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115267141188712915?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115267141188712915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115267141188712915' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115267141188712915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115267141188712915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/07/grand-and-infamous-jordan.html' title='The Grand and Infamous Jordan'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115155119785324230</id><published>2006-06-28T22:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:54.544-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip America</title><content type='html'>Spent the weekend in Florida. Fabulous fun. Beach, sun, shopping, and a friend's wedding. Could it get any better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the ocean, I love sinking my feet in and feeling the salty water wash over them. I love walking and clearing my mind with the sun beating down on me. One night we all went out to the beach late at night, and the ocean looked amazing, but even more amazing was the sky. It was perfectly clear and the sky stretched and fell into the sea. I could see every star and it was breath taking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back we took a different route, this route looked faster and also went by New Orleans, which I have always wanted to visit. So we took a brief break and had dinner in the French Quarter &lt;a href="http://www.gumboshop.com/index.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an amazing city, really beautiful. And the food was awesome. I'll post some pictures later this week, I have to get all the film developed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One good thing about being home: no sand in my sheets or bathtub.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115155119785324230?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115155119785324230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115155119785324230' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115155119785324230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115155119785324230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/06/road-trip-america.html' title='Road Trip America'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-115112405466648276</id><published>2006-06-24T00:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:54.398-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Parents to the Rescue</title><content type='html'>Ahhhh... Life has been a total zoo as of late. Sorry I haven't blogged much, things have just gone from mildly busy to really busy, and spend most days just working my ways towards my bed. No complaints though, it's good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At anyrate while doing a massive bookstore project which included the printing of thousands of labels we had printer drum drama. One label got stuck to the printer drum, and before you know it we were up a creek, as our particular drum is a "special order" item. Oh fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off I went to office supply depots only to find every other drum, but mine, literally. I was about to tear out my hair, and then I remembered that somewhere deep in my genes was the ability to supply customers with inane requests almost instantly. I called my mom. She had a drum messenger-ed to me and I had it in one hour, for nearly the same price. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of our success. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/drum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/drum.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-115112405466648276?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/115112405466648276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=115112405466648276' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115112405466648276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/115112405466648276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/06/parents-to-rescue.html' title='Parents to the Rescue'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114997545233043727</id><published>2006-06-10T17:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:54.197-05:00</updated><title type='text'>12 years in the making</title><content type='html'>The news has been broken to all appropriate people so I can finally blog it! Last weekend my parents came down to Kansas City, and while they were here they found and bought a home. I swear it's an act of God for these two to decide on anything, much less a home and it finally happened. Here it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/new%20house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/new%20house.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother has wanted to move here for like 12 years, and she was so jealous when I got to come before she did. She has ruby red slippers all over the house, she'll say longingly, "There's no place like home." Finally that will be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother loves the kitchen in this house, which is as nice as hers at home, which is a big deal. But pictured below is what has sold my Dad on the whole thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/lawn%20mower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/lawn%20mower.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, it has a rollbar. Never has a lawn mower been more ridiculous. But it comes with the house and the 3 1/2 acres and the pond and the hot tub. Sounds like a sweet deal for everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kansas City get ready, the rest of the Andersons (minus my stubborn little brother) are coming. This city might never be the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114997545233043727?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114997545233043727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114997545233043727' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114997545233043727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114997545233043727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/06/12-years-in-making_10.html' title='12 years in the making'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114908594719655322</id><published>2006-05-31T10:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:53.657-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Breakfast Bonanza!</title><content type='html'>I am a creature of habit. Every morning I do exactly the same thing. I roll into the IHOP parking lot at 8:45. I park in the same row on the same side. I then head into the coffee shop and grab the same drink, tea au lait, vanilla almond, two tablespoons of honey, soy milk. There is rarely a deviation in this plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning however, the world turned itself upside down. First, I couldn't park where I normally would. The parking lot is being repaved. So I parked in Herrenhut and walked over to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm in the coffee shop ordering my beverage, or rather nodding that I would like my usual. I'm just looking around, and I notice a sign announcing the arrival of a breakfast bagel. No joke. This morning I was the first to order and consume a Higher Grounds breakfast bagel. I had ham, cheese, and eggs! But there were so many options! The price is totally comparable to any fast food breakfast sandwich, but it wasn't greasy or heavy. In short, I feel invigorated after eating it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excellent work, Dennis and team. I applaud this new menu item!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114908594719655322?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114908594719655322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114908594719655322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114908594719655322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114908594719655322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/05/breakfast-bonanza.html' title='Breakfast Bonanza!'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114870153893399771</id><published>2006-05-26T22:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:53.452-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Out of Gray - I (heart) Augustine</title><content type='html'>I'm reading this book, "The Story of Christianity." It's big and I'm just reading the parts that interest me (the more I read, the more I find interesting). I've had some questions lately about the cannonization of the Bible and the council of Nicea. So I thought I should read some historical accounts just so that I could have a more accurate view of motivations and the "players" in these dramas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at any rate I'd just finished some great sections on Gnosticism and the Arian Controversy when I stumbled over a section on Augustine. I read it and enjoyed it thoroughly. He was a man well acquainted with his position before God. He understood the depth of his depravity, he knew his inadequacy. He lived as a man who knew forgiveness and the grace that is offered on the cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "When I thought of devoting myself entirely to God...It was I that wished to do it, and I that wished not to do it. It was I. And since I neither completely wished nor completely refused, I fought against myself and tore myself to pieces."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This rings so true to me. It's something that I have been working on. Someone told me over a year ago that I was "gray". They told me I have a difficult time telling between right and wrong, they told me I saw a lot of gray areas in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little miffed upon hearing this. I prided myself on being a good person, I always obeyed! But I found myself nodding in agreement at this observation. When push came to shove I often had difficulty in saying that there was a right and wrong. Generally not with large doctrines, but with small ones. There are a lot of reasons for this I think, primarily, I was taught to think rigorously and challenge ideas. I was told quite often to fight for the liberal position. I was often the devil's advocate, mostly because I had the ability to separate my beliefs from any position I had to argue. I spent a lot of time researching and defending positions I didn't really believe in. When the debate was over, often my teachers would ask, "Do you believe any of what you just said?" Most often I would just shrug and say, "Not a word." This is one of the things I love the most about my upbringing, but it has also left me with a lot of gray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lived (and continue to some extent) in a struggle, not fully wanting to embrace the "right" road. Something deep inside goes "but what about..." By doing this I found myself in conflict. I was tearing myself apart. In the last year I have made concerted efforts to flee the "gray" in my life. I have said "no" to a lot of things previously classified as "gray", in this process I have found a greater peace or calm. Mike would maybe call these "gray" things the little foxes. I'm trying to chase away the little things that steal my passion, zeal, and love. These little things can make my heart so dull. Obviously, I still struggle. But I feel more settled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always liked Augustine. I mean his theology was crucial to the early church and that's great, but I like his words, his sorrow over his sin, over his life. I love that he asks questions, I love that he searched hard and he found God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114870153893399771?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114870153893399771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114870153893399771' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114870153893399771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114870153893399771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/05/coming-out-of-gray-i-heart-augustine.html' title='Coming Out of Gray - I (heart) Augustine'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114849695027520917</id><published>2006-05-24T14:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:53.282-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back Office Antics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/hats.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/hats.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got new hats in the bookstore to sell to the masses. We celebrated this new product with this portrait. You too can have your very own mission's base hat, just drop by your local Forerunner Bookstore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114849695027520917?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114849695027520917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114849695027520917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114849695027520917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114849695027520917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/05/back-office-antics.html' title='Back Office Antics'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114835607683911422</id><published>2006-05-22T23:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:53.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditations on Cold Medicine</title><content type='html'>Right now I'm coming to you from the land of the ubber dopey. I'm having some allergy issues so I am on some drugs that make me a little loopey but have a profound affect on a cold. The following is what I am thinking about as I am drifting in and out of lucidity. Seat belts everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;em&gt;There are a lot of complex problems in the world.&lt;/em&gt; I recently subscribed to The Economist. I thought my brain may be rotting from all the &lt;em&gt;People&lt;/em&gt; which I was reading, so I thought I'd challenge myself to something better. It is very interesting, and it reminds me how delicate the world we live in is. We are held together by a thread. Jesus has quite the reform to start when he gets back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;em&gt;Britney and K-fed should just stop.&lt;/em&gt; and so know you see I still read &lt;em&gt;people&lt;/em&gt;. But this is appalling just appalling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;em&gt;There will be a lot of people who said "Jesus, I love you." but really didn't know Him at all.&lt;/em&gt; Just watched Oprah sing gospel songs to Jesus and saw her praising God, but yet she is far from Him. I, too, must be careful, lest my heart grow cold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)&lt;em&gt;You can train goldfish to play soccer&lt;/em&gt;. Wired magazine did a blip on this, but I was reading it on cold medicine so I'm not sure what the article was really about. This is yet another effort to stem the tide of deteriorating brain matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) &lt;em&gt;Alias is over.&lt;/em&gt; All hail an era.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) &lt;em&gt;Imogene Heap is play in Lawrence right now.&lt;/em&gt; Couldn't get tickets. Really bummed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) &lt;em&gt;Seven is the number of perfection.&lt;/em&gt; Couldn't have just six things, that is the number of the beast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it. I am about to slip off into a sweet but terribly confusing dream I am sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114835607683911422?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114835607683911422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114835607683911422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114835607683911422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114835607683911422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/05/meditations-on-cold-medicine.html' title='Meditations on Cold Medicine'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114808901063906221</id><published>2006-05-19T21:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:52.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It is so green!</title><content type='html'>I've been taking a blog break. I've just been too crazy to try to formulate anything worth reading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from six days of "camping" in parkville, MO. It wasn't really camping because there was running water. But that's the only kind of camping I can do. It was very green. That's what out of towners kept telling me; "It's so green." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a lot of time describing IHOP. That was more fun then it sounds. It reinvigorated my heart in a surprising way. Something about sharing a vision, really reminded me of my own desires and passions which can get lost in the day to day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice break, but it is good to be back and sleeping in a non-bunk bed (also nice... coffee shop, I was lost without my tea).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114808901063906221?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114808901063906221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114808901063906221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114808901063906221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114808901063906221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/05/it-is-so-green.html' title='It is so green!'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114624288674418856</id><published>2006-04-28T12:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:52.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>End Times Diorama of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/hartke%27s%20diorama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/hartke%27s%20diorama.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This diorama comes to us through the brilliant mind of Matthew Hartke. You'll see that in this depiction Dale is on the sea of glass with Steve Jobs. Our ardent desire is that he won't be offended when it's all coming down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114624288674418856?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114624288674418856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114624288674418856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114624288674418856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114624288674418856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/04/end-times-diorama-of-day_28.html' title='End Times Diorama of the Day'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114623985663299027</id><published>2006-04-28T11:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:52.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Green with Envy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/office%20frolik2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/office%20frolik2.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sick on Wednesday, but I asked my co-workers to continue with our weekly staff meeting without me. I received these photos shortly after the meeting would have ended. This is their feeble attempt to make me jealous with their special drinks. It worked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114623985663299027?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114623985663299027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114623985663299027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114623985663299027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114623985663299027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/04/green-with-envy.html' title='Green with Envy'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114602448393516653</id><published>2006-04-25T23:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:52.447-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First eBay Purchase</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/ebay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/ebay.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This purse (or luggage as some might say, as it is quite large) is the first thing I have acquired from eBay, and I am totally head over heals for this bag. It is more amazing then I could have imagined, I fit everything into it. The actual horsebit handle makes the bag a little weighty, but that's my only real complaint. And I got a great deal. All I need is a venti caramel macchiato, a huge pair of sunglasses, some leggings and an over sized sweater, and you can call me Ashley or Mary Kate Olsen (I might also have to lose half of my body mass).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114602448393516653?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114602448393516653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114602448393516653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114602448393516653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114602448393516653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/04/first-ebay-purchase.html' title='First eBay Purchase'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114566827976399611</id><published>2006-04-21T21:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:52.245-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tastes Change</title><content type='html'>I had a stunning (maybe not so stunning) revelation the other night. I realized that the way I see my life and where I see it going has totally changed. The things I wanted and thought I would be doing 6 years a go have little to no appeal. I thought I’d be in law school or getting a masters in history (which would have been fine and good), but I have no desire for it anymore. I’ve been thinking about this because several people have encouraged me lately to go be a lawyer. I just raise my eyebrows and shrug, it just doesn’t ring true anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I thought I would never do or things I would’ve abhorred, I now find myself enjoying. It’s odd thinking about that version of me, that version being so far away from me now. It makes me glad that God knows me so well; he knows the true desires of my heart, not just what I say I want. He, being the one who made me, knows what will really make me happy, and he loves me so much he doesn’t give me my fleeting wishes, the good gifts he gives me last, they endure my fickle heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114566827976399611?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114566827976399611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114566827976399611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114566827976399611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114566827976399611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/04/tastes-change.html' title='Tastes Change'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114487237247301041</id><published>2006-04-12T16:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:51.968-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I’m addicted to my non-existent commute</title><content type='html'>Back at home I had to drive 45 minutes to work everyday and an hour back. I used to hate the drive, especially in the winter, where it could take two hours. Almost everybody commutes in and around Chicago. Those of us living the suburbs have to drive, as public transportation is a novelty (and also almost non-existent). I used to have to buy two or three CDs a week, just to keep my mind off my driving. I used to read in the car, and I’m ashamed to say I’ve even crocheted while driving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I live five minutes from my job, five minutes from IHOP, five minutes from most stores, five minutes (if not five seconds) from all my friends. I have found in the last year and a half, I miss the drive. So in substitute, before and after work I often find myself passing my house or office and just driving in a neat circle (red bridge, blue river, blue ridge, grandview) sometimes when I have time or I need to think I find myself just driving in this circle, I’ll glance at my cell phone to see what time it is, only to note that several hours have gone by. My dearest friends know when to find me when I am upset; they call and ask “Do I need to drag you off blue river road?” It’s extraordinarily cathartic. It calms me down, it eases my mind and I find myself better able to handle odd situations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One particularly hard week, I realized that I had been driving for several hours, so I went back to my apartment and grabbed a bag and decided to drive home for the weekend so at least I could say I went somewhere. On that trip in the middle of podunk Illinois I saw the aurora borealis (northern lights). It was amazing, I had to keep myself from driving off the road, and everyone on the road was driving with their head out the window. I’d stop looking for a few minutes but then I couldn’t help but keep turning my head to stare at this beautiful thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that to say…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an addiction to aimless driving. I’m not sure how to stop. This is my confession of the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114487237247301041?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114487237247301041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114487237247301041' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114487237247301041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114487237247301041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/04/im-addicted-to-my-non-existent-commute.html' title='I’m addicted to my non-existent commute'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114464335405666622</id><published>2006-04-10T00:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:51.684-05:00</updated><title type='text'>End Times Diorama of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/carries%20diorama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/carries%20diorama.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This diorama comes to you sponsored in part by Carrie, sponsored in other parts by the most fabulous birthday party ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Dale's birthday we each created dioramas of Dale in different end-times scenarios. The results were fascinating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114464335405666622?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114464335405666622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114464335405666622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114464335405666622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114464335405666622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/04/end-times-diorama-of-day.html' title='End Times Diorama of the Day'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114396391199146885</id><published>2006-04-02T03:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:51.494-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile!</title><content type='html'>I think it odd when random strangers (always male, never in my experience, female) command you to smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it’s happened to other people. I’ll be just standing waiting in line or looking at product to purchase when a random stranger or employee will come up to me and say, “Smile, life can’t be that bad.” or “Smile, life isn’t that rough.” I recently thought about this odd behavior when one particularly stressful and sad week in my life, this strange “smile command” happened to me multiple times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized this happens to me quite a bit. I attribute it to two things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often stand in thought, and while thinking I generally look sad or pensive. I don’t know why…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not a big smiler. My face, at rest, I guess, looks sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I’m miffed at this “smile command”. I think it’s presumptuous to interrupt someone’s train of thought to request of them a happier facial expression. First off, maybe I am sad, maybe I am having a rough day. Second off, a “smile command” isn’t actually going to change my day; it might actually make me sadder when I realize how sad I must look to others. Thirdly, I think it ill-legitimizes my feelings. It is saying surely life can’t be as sad as you look, when in a fact it very well might be. Life is very complicated. Fourthly, I am not and will not be a window dressing in people’s Mary Poppins fairy tale life. I’m sorry my sad face affects people adversely but it is real and it is me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how am I to respond to such requests? I normally look up mildly horrified and offer a weak, placating smile accompanied with an eye roll. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not today, today I reclaimed my facial expressions as my own, today I responded, with a firm, “Actually, you have no idea what my day has been like.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s my application: First, I am going to try to look happier. Most of the time I am pretty content and I would want my face to show it. Second, if I really am sad, I’m not going to smile when commanded. I won’t be mean, but I think I’ll just stare blankly back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: this diatribe is not against those who are truly compassionate and empathetic towards others. I appreciate comments like “rough day, huh?” or “hope your day goes better.” Or “I’m having a rough time too.” I am speaking strictly about odd instances with total strangers in which they command me to smile for them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114396391199146885?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114396391199146885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114396391199146885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114396391199146885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114396391199146885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/04/smile.html' title='Smile!'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114383331027809706</id><published>2006-03-31T15:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:51.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring on the Negotiator</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/Phil%27s%20Last%20Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/Phil%27s%20Last%20Day.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to hold Phil hostage. There is no ransom. There is no scenario in which I will surrender him. I have no demands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114383331027809706?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114383331027809706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114383331027809706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114383331027809706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114383331027809706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/bring-on-negotiator.html' title='Bring on the Negotiator'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114366832935730155</id><published>2006-03-29T17:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:51.143-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Jesse</title><content type='html'>My most fabulous assistant is moving on to greener pastures, these pastures are still owned by the bookstore, but they no longer report to me. He is the new online buyer, as Char is moving to be front store manager, and Philip is leaving entirely (he'll get his own ode, I'm just not ready). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the last meeting in which Jesse took minutes. His minutes have brought laughter and tears, dare I say they have revolutionized the minute business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is his goodbye as found in Minute Documentation, March 29, 2006:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yes, yes.  Everyone just hold back your tears.  I know, I know.  Come here, let me hold you.  Hey, don't worry like that.  I'll still be around.  I'm not totally leaving.  Besides, Alicia B. Good will be here.  She's gonna do great.  Now, now, don't say that.  Everything's gonna be all right.  I love you guys, and besides I'm just moving to the desk across the room.  If you need some funny then let me know and I'll put together something extra special just for you.  O.Kay, Okay, c'mon, let's get you to bed.  Oh, now you don't need another glass of water.  I'm just gonna be across the way.  If there is anything you need just let me know.  I'm extension 402 now.  That's right 4..0..2.  You'll remember it fine.  Now don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of.  Remember last time when we took care of that monster in your closet.  He can't bother you any more.  And if any of his friends come around you just give me a call and well have 'em so scared none of them will ever come back. All right now, you comfy?  Ok.  Good night.  God bless you and protect you.  Sweet dreams baby.  Sweet dreams.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here lies Jesse's last minutes. May they rest in peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114366832935730155?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114366832935730155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114366832935730155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114366832935730155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114366832935730155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/ode-to-jesse.html' title='Ode to Jesse'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114322206039843203</id><published>2006-03-24T13:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:50.975-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Girls in the World of Rock Stars</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Katie and I took one of our infrequent trips to Musicians Friend to buy music supplies for the bookstore. For the record this is one of our least favorite things to do. On our ride up and back I began to analyze why we hate doing this task. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel stupid very often. On occasion I will think "hey am I stupid?" but usually I can drum up sufficient evidence otherwise. I don't feel stupid going into auto parts stores or home depot. Thanks to my father, I am totally familiar with the layouts of both these types of stores. I also know the terms. I grew up knowing this stuff. Dual overhead cams? Yeah I know what that means. So as a girl I think I can do the "man" stores pretty well. I rarely feel stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed yesterday I feel stupid walking into the music store. First off I'm kind of dressed up and I'm walking into the world of very hairy, very intense musicians. We go with a list written out by one of musician cashiers. It is a totally different language; polyweb, nanoweb, gauges, polymers and don't even get me started on drum sticks; rubber tips and round tips and oval tips, ones with no tips at all, Manhattan, Phats, aliens... I mean it's total garble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie and I are totally lost. As we begin to wander about the dulicmers and toms, and mandolins, and violins and bongos and cymbals, discomfort begins to overwhelm and the dreaded feeling appears, "I have no idea what I'm doing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We look totally lost, so a very nice guy comes up and asks us if we need help. We nod vigorously and hand him the list. We ask him to double all the quantities because we don't want to come back anytime soon. While he's off gathering strings, we buy pretty much every drum stick they have and decide to just ignore all the different tips. So once again we find ourselves walking around arms full of drumsticks, getting more then one snicker from a passing rock star. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Our guy" comes back after filling our huge order and asks, "what are you doing with this stuff?" This isn't the first time we've been asked this question. We have been mistaken for girlfriends of the "band". I'm sure we've been mistaken for roadies and fans and pretty much anything but female musicians, because, of course, we know nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hands us the box and we sigh, happy that this whole event is over. I can go back to my world, where I know things, where I understand the terms, where I can guide others into the world of contemplative authors, catholic saints, and Jewish resources. Just please don't ask me to tell you the difference between elixir super lights and elixir regular lights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114322206039843203?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114322206039843203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114322206039843203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114322206039843203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114322206039843203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/two-girls-in-world-of-rock-stars.html' title='Two Girls in the World of Rock Stars'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114255644261742315</id><published>2006-03-16T20:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:50.814-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Officially Unprotected</title><content type='html'>Two nights ago I had a "come to Jesus moment".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I moved into my house, there was an alarm system, it's a very nice sophisticated system tied into all doors, windows, and even a shed I have in my back yard. I should say that this is a very nice shed with electricity and a nice shed-like structure. I have only found it useful for storing bird seed. I'm just not a shed kind of girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At anyrate, first night we're in the house (Katie, Amanda, Myself) the alarm decides to randomly begin loudly beeping (not to be confused with going off which is an earsplitting siren). We all woke up and Katie and I began to randomly press buttons in hopes of turning this awful thing off. Amanda comes into the room and cutely asks "How do we turn it off?" Good question. And the answer was; that time (and many more times) I called my Dad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in last 9 months the alarm has randomly beeped and we have memorized the code. This beeping had gradually increased. So two nights a go after getting up several times to turn it off, I called my Father at 5AM and I told him I was going to take a bat to the entire system. After talking me off the ledge, he made a few calls and begged a lady to just tell us how to dismantle this once sophisticated, but now retarded system. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A screwdriver and several determined yanks later, the alarm died and peaceful death.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing as the system was never, under my ownership, hooked up to the Police or the Fire department, I am in fact no less safe, just less annoyed. I think we can all agree that makes a safer world for everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114255644261742315?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114255644261742315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114255644261742315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114255644261742315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114255644261742315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/officially-unprotected.html' title='Officially Unprotected'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114236089606001681</id><published>2006-03-14T14:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:50.682-05:00</updated><title type='text'>4 Things I'm Thankful For</title><content type='html'>1) British Hamsters running Endis (all hail Britannia)&lt;br /&gt;2) The Fray&lt;br /&gt;3) Heidi Stiegh (RMS Sensei - all hail Canada)&lt;br /&gt;4) Tea Au Lait (made by Nick, Ryan, or Mesa)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114236089606001681?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114236089606001681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114236089606001681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114236089606001681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114236089606001681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/4-things-im-thankful-for.html' title='4 Things I&apos;m Thankful For'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114204708296892732</id><published>2006-03-10T23:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:50.548-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Things I'm Thankful For</title><content type='html'>1) Loose Park (the rose garden)&lt;br /&gt;2) My iPOD&lt;br /&gt;3) Imogen Heap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine those three together and it's like happiness in a bottle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114204708296892732?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114204708296892732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114204708296892732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114204708296892732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114204708296892732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/three-things-im-thankful-for.html' title='Three Things I&apos;m Thankful For'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114188791869353153</id><published>2006-03-09T02:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:50.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Ways to Beat the Plague</title><content type='html'>A few days a go I wrote about my vitamin euphoria, it didn't work. So I went to a real doctor. Before I tell you that, I should fill in some details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up I was sick a lot. Who knows why? I just remember taking antibiotics constantly. In fact my family should be on a poster for why over medicating could cause a super virus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother already had us diagnosed before we hit the reception area. She would inspect our throats with my father's mag light. We would roll our eyes and one again remind her that she didn't have a medical degree. It didn't get better as we got older. She became more insistent. She would tell the doctor before he unsheathed his stethoscope what we had and what he should prescribe, how many days and how many milligrams included. She would also ask that he check that little refill box. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ceftin, ten days, five hundred milligrams, don't forget the refill, just in case"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Levaquin, seven days, five hundred milligrams, remember the refill box, just in case"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Augmenten? Absolutely not, that gives Kristen stomach aches and she has to eat, which she refuses to do, Ceftin is what we normally get."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Baxin? Under no circumstances, she gets a metallic taste in her mouth and it isn't that effective. How about Levaquin?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, now, must skip past the mansy pansy stuff and right to ceftin. I have become immune to everything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes she wouldn't even take us she'd simply call in to the doctor and insist a prescription without an actual visit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother is a pediatrician's nightmare, or well she's a medical community nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that to say I became so miserable and was developing intense pain in my ear. I hustled off to a good Jewish doctor at Menorah Medical center. I am now fully medicated, but still feel like I'm in an airplane making it's final approach to the landing. And don't ask me to reach for anything on the ground; the change in "altitude" makes me scream like a crazy person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114188791869353153?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114188791869353153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114188791869353153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114188791869353153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114188791869353153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/real-ways-to-beat-plague.html' title='Real Ways to Beat the Plague'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114144545317195981</id><published>2006-03-03T23:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:50.271-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Will the Knotter please stand up?</title><content type='html'>So I bought these two mildly nice inexpensive channile blankets the other day to go with a new slipcover I got for a love seat I own. I've been on the decorating bandwagon lately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I purchased curtains, window scarves, and all sorts of stuff to hang on the wall. I'm trying to make my place more like a home and less like a flop house. It looks really great by the way and the wallpaper removal and painting has been a huge help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night I was sitting in Tyrone (the recliner) and I asked Charleen to hand me a throw to ward off the evening chill. As I spread the blanket, I noticed that on one side of the blanket the fringe was clumped together. Odd, I thought. I inspected it, and to my horror someone had gone to great lengths and had intricately knotted up all the fringe in a frenchbraid of sorts, but not a neat braid but a sort of matted dreaded disaster. I asked Charleen to look at the other throw and sure enough that one had also been knotted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So frustrating, and at that particular moment I did not think this was funny I was aghast that this had happened. I think I actually asked Char in a pitiful voice, "Why would someone do this to me?" Obviously it had been a long day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began calling my friends and asking if they had gotten any boy scout badges in knotting. Needless to say no one knew what I was talking about. We spent of the rest of the evening un-knotting, so ultimately no major harm done, other then my hand sometimes curls up into this claw like cramp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so my dear blogging community, I am entrusting this mystery to you. Can you help me find the knotter amongst us? Perhaps we will together discover the motivation behind such heinous crimes against decorating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will the knotter please stand up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114144545317195981?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114144545317195981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114144545317195981' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114144545317195981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114144545317195981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/will-knotter-please-stand-up.html' title='Will the Knotter please stand up?'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114123180172640523</id><published>2006-03-01T12:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:50.127-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ways to beat the plague</title><content type='html'>I'm slowly but surely overcoming a cold that has haunted me since onething. In the midst of sickness I have found the following things that are helping me to beat this nasty plague. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Airborne. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/airborne.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/airborne.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This stuff is brilliant it has like 1000% your daily value of everything. Start taking it the minute you feel ill or if you are going to be in a closed air environment (such as a classroom with constantly ill children). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gummi Bear Vitamins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/gummi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/gummi.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bad pill taker. I can swallow them just find, it's remembering to take them that's a huge problem for me. It's sort of a big deal because I suffer from bone loss... I know I'm 23. It confuses me too. At any rate these vitamins are awesome. No water necessary, and I have motivation to it, because they are so gummi. I don't know but it works for me. When I was buying them at CVS the other day the checkout woman asked if my kids enjoyed them. I smirked and told them they were for myself. She looked at me like I was an idiot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Re - Runs of this show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/miami.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/miami.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It this highly entertaining show about these four guys who run this tattoo shop on Miami Beach. One of the co-owners is super good looking and Jewish and a former member of the IDF. He's perfect for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the help of these things (along with nose spray and cough drops) I will be better in no time I'm sure. Until then I promise not to cough on you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114123180172640523?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114123180172640523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114123180172640523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114123180172640523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114123180172640523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/03/ways-to-beat-plague.html' title='Ways to beat the plague'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114090923184498918</id><published>2006-02-25T19:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:50.012-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Writer's Block</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to write all night in my journal. I thought I'd just write some prose or poetry or something because I feel that bursty feeling, like there is something I'm supposed to be putting out there, but I'm just not hitting on anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep hearing one of my favorite poems. It is so well put, it makes me think if everything poetic has already been said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the one line that keeps bouncing around my cerebrum &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The weight of the world&lt;br /&gt;is love.&lt;br /&gt;Under the burden&lt;br /&gt;of solitude,&lt;br /&gt;under the burden&lt;br /&gt;of dissatisfaction&lt;br /&gt;the weight,&lt;br /&gt;the weight we carry&lt;br /&gt;is love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm about to say isn't what the writer was thinking exactly (or even nearly), but he's hitting on a theme in the human heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weight we carry is love. He's perfectly spoken here. There's a great meter, and a great image. I feel this weight, it lies under the burden of my everyday life, there is a weight in loving people, in wanting to love people well. There is a weight in the hearts of men to be loved and to love deeply. It is God calling out to us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114090923184498918?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114090923184498918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114090923184498918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114090923184498918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114090923184498918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/02/writers-block_25.html' title='Writer&apos;s Block'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114079962777276927</id><published>2006-02-24T12:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:49.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dislocations and Vending Machines</title><content type='html'>So I’m taking a break from a class (a sort of inner healing thing) on Monday night in the Desert Stream facility (aka annex, aka old FSM building, aka first prayer room). At break I needed a serious sugar fix. So off I go to the vending machine in the hallway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m staring intently at the rows of chocolate and chips, wondering which snack would bring me true joy. Amidst the rows of snack items was a booklet they handed out to us a few weeks ago; untitled “Emotional Dependency.” A picture is worth a thousand words… so here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/vending.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/vending.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love camera phones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of feeling needy, I dislocated my shoulder later that night and got it back in by myself (all the while nearly puking). It wasn’t out of socket longer the 10 seconds, but it is one of the most painful things you can do to yourself. So later this week I was walking around with it in a sling, which is just embarrassing, because you have to explain all day long how it happened, what it feels like, and how desperate and needy you are. It just made me feel pitiful: pitiful and nauseous, because after explaining several times I began to feel really sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So home I went to sleep for awhile and then dearest Rachel and I went out and did some retail therapy at Nebraska Furniture Mart, which is like a small country and should have a flag and national anthem of their own. But I bought real adult furniture, so check, I’m becoming old. I felt old, walking around with a stupid injury checking out wood grains and micro fibers, end tables, a lamp styles. Our salesman talked this whole time about his lifelong struggle with his belief in Jesus Christ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odd, I’m finding life to be very odd these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114079962777276927?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114079962777276927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114079962777276927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114079962777276927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114079962777276927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/02/dislocations-and-vending-machines.html' title='Dislocations and Vending Machines'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114071433061300848</id><published>2006-02-23T12:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:49.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A new holiday</title><content type='html'>Charleen has just declared today to be International After Midnight Day. We have this rule around here that anything said after midnight cannot be held against you or ever mentioned at anytime of the day before midnight. It's sort of a catch all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today it's like it's after midnight all day long, nothing said today can be held against you, at least around here, but you have to take what you can get. As soon as I got Char's email I called her and told her something I wasn't going to tell her, because I didn't want to be judged. I feel so much more free now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So be gentle today, but speak your mind, be honest with people, love each other extravagantly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we can go back to our restrained selves. Today let's live with our hearts on our sleeves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114071433061300848?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114071433061300848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114071433061300848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114071433061300848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114071433061300848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/02/new-holiday.html' title='A new holiday'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19703832.post-114055571407384342</id><published>2006-02-21T16:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T18:51:49.348-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fasting Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/robeks.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/320/robeks.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's fasting day here in Kansas City, and for all you die hard fasters I just wanted to plug a new place I found(It's on 135th into the Kansas side). Robeks. I've been going there because I have a nasty cold (or as some call it - the onething plague - thank you Kathy). They serve these delicious smoothies and inject them with all sorts of nutritional non-sense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But more importantly they taste great, and they make me feel great, and I feel no guilt, I feel only the genuine satisfaction of feeding my body something it is probably craving, such as vitamins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19703832-114055571407384342?l=misskris-anderson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/feeds/114055571407384342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19703832&amp;postID=114055571407384342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114055571407384342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19703832/posts/default/114055571407384342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misskris-anderson.blogspot.com/2006/02/fasting-fun.html' title='Fasting Fun'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09915785580404995568</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5762/1955/1600/girl%20at%20window.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
