<?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-2834848494567137876</id><updated>2012-01-07T17:41:41.066-07:00</updated><category term='Dad'/><category term='wisdom teeth'/><category term='Birthday'/><category term='camera'/><category term='Scott'/><category term='Mom'/><category term='Sheyene'/><category term='Macbook Pro'/><category term='Allie'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Brooke'/><category term='Resolutions'/><title type='text'>Just a Thought</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>130</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7313751551720268855</id><published>2011-11-27T08:44:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T18:20:55.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Married</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Before me and Scott tied the knot I seriously thought that I would have so much to blog about… how exciting newly wed life is. Well, there isn’t as much exciting things going on as I thought there would be. I’m not exactly sure what I thought I was going to have to write about, but whatever it was it doesn’t exist.&lt;br /&gt;Being married isn't exactly what I thought it would be. People would tell us all the time how things would be once we got married. Some of them have been true and some of them not so true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;·&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I thought that once we were married we would get to see each other all the time. Man, was I wrong about that. When you’re dating you make time to see each other, when you’re married you live together so you would think that at some point two schedules would match up.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Most of the time, for me and Scott they don’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;·&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;You gain weight once your get married. People always say that once you get married you will gain weight… I swore that I would never be that girl. Now that I have been married for just over 3 months I would have to say that this rumor is true, at least for me. Maybe it’s because I never made a full dinner when I was by myself but I do most nights now, or maybe it is because Scott is ready for dinner right about the time I am wanting to go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;·&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Once you get married you become anti-social. Well, I am not sure if this really has anything to with getting married, but I have only hung out with 2 of my friends since getting married. Once school started my time became much more limited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;·&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;It’s easier to get your homework done after you get married. I would have to say that it is actually much harder. When you are dating you can say, give me an hour to do homework, then you can come over. When you’re living with your best friend you just get distracted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;·&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;You have to deal with the in-laws. Well, I do have to deal with the in-laws but they are almost more my family then my actual family is. I married into a really great family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;·&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;People will start asking you when you are going to have kids. Kelci has asked me more than once, and anytime anyone brings up babies around my mom she gives me that look of approval.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;·&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;You love each other more every day. This is true, sometimes I just look at Scott and get all giddy, hence the distraction and lack of finishing my homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list:Ignore"&gt;·&lt;span style="font:7.0pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;That once you live together you will get sick of each other. Nope, I am still just excited to see him as the first time I saw him after he came home from his mission, just less nervous.&lt;br /&gt;Those are just a few of the things that I could think of that people told me my life would be like after I got married. It's been fun, and there has been a lot of change but I love the way my life right now.&lt;/p&gt;                  &lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7313751551720268855?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7313751551720268855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7313751551720268855&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7313751551720268855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7313751551720268855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/11/being-married.html' title='Being Married'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-269094460145573414</id><published>2011-10-03T19:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T19:22:38.815-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you asleep?</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;This was a conversation me and Scott had the other night... I thought it was funny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Babe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: small; "&gt;Scott: I haven’t figured it out yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Figured what out yet? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: I just haven’t figured it out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Why don’t you come lay back down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: Why? I haven’t figured it out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Just come lay down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: (Grumpily) Fine… but I didn’t figure it out (He gets back in bed)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: What didn’t you figure out?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: Do the H’s or C’s come off (Carbons or Hydrogens)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Are you talking about molecular? (The class we have together)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: Does it make it more hydropho....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Are you talking about Ochem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: (Upset) Nevermind!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Are you awake babe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: Yes, I’m awake (annoyed)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Okay, let’s figure it out tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: But I can’t figure it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Let’s go to sleep. (I laugh a little because I figured he wasn’t really awake)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: Fine! (Rolls over so his back is facing me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Are you mad at me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: Of course I’m mad at you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: Because you’re laughing at me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Me: I’m sorry I laughed I just couldn’t figure out what you were trying to figure out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Scott: I just never know if there are spiders in the bed… (I laugh again, and he grunts like he’s upset)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;When we woke up the next morning I asked if he was still mad at me. He had no recollection of our conversation. I never thought I would be having full conversations with my sleeping husband. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-269094460145573414?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/269094460145573414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=269094460145573414&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/269094460145573414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/269094460145573414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/10/are-you-asleep.html' title='Are you asleep?'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3661180359868805649</id><published>2011-09-12T12:18:00.057-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T18:17:03.999-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The past few months of my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GNuP0h8ZyZM/TnDKEEeexPI/AAAAAAAAALs/C_AbD_g9yjY/s1600/IMG_0083.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uoR8dhy2Jw4/TnAoRrLVXtI/AAAAAAAAAK0/gTBkMLPeuNw/s1600/Wedding-4174.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I have been married for just over a month and I haven’t blogged about any of it yet. So much has happened and every time I have tried to sit down and blog about it I realize it is a much bigger undertaking then I was wanting to start.  I get overwhelmed and decide that doing it later is a better idea. I have hardly posted any pictures (by hardly I mean that I haven’t posted any) and my photographer was great. That means that I have plenty of pictures for you to look at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Engagements&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Here are our top 10 Engagement Pictures&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;10 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9fqd19EpfEA/Tm5UHnP5q2I/AAAAAAAAADE/VnhPw0Msd4k/s400/Engagements-9029.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651547072168045410" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;9.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mmR65uYYvws/Tm_NTIVtqHI/AAAAAAAAAEE/vttum0v0hj8/s400/Engagements-8943.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651961785913026674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;8.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0cANLd48VVw/Tm_NT0uQIwI/AAAAAAAAAEc/WVBA6b79jYU/s400/Engagements-9050b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651961797827109634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R0ZQc_kA3b4/Tm_NTn2fb2I/AAAAAAAAAEU/NCyCKwVzNy8/s400/Engagements-8986.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651961794372005730" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;6.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SeO5PTAi3aQ/Tm_Mo5Mcp1I/AAAAAAAAAD8/CiUd-NhKWrA/s400/Engagements-8988b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651961060293125970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CdGFHXJuPVg/Tm_Mn3um4mI/AAAAAAAAADk/k8rZbCw1KXQ/s400/Engagements-9061.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651961042719662690" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KJjln4hU7AA/Tm_MoIFTcbI/AAAAAAAAADs/7XjMAQdJpKY/s400/Engagements-9037b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651961047109824946" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KxZo9Xxe3Hs/Tm_NTQ94sbI/AAAAAAAAAEM/3RnuAuo78Gg/s400/Engagements-9006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651961788229005746" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ajb1KgwPlPU/Tm_MHyJxpdI/AAAAAAAAADU/HrcZZLvN-pI/s400/Engagements-9031.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651960491467187666" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VrvIODTXurM/Tm_MIM6-olI/AAAAAAAAADc/NplJelkOZbo/s400/Engagements-8969.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651960498652881490" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The weather was great until we started driving to our second locations. It rained and we waited it out. The pictures from both places turned out great, except for the last few from the second location. I must have been allergic to something because in between each picture I would sneeze. My eyes got all read and watery and my face looked funny because I was trying so hard not to sneeze.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Bridals&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Top 10 Bridals/Groomals&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;10.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dcrb4qEdlOU/Tm_Sosk1qfI/AAAAAAAAAFk/UfglJxhS-ks/s400/Bridals-3203.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651967653975534066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;9.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x8mIj8qyCNs/Tm_SG-rMF4I/AAAAAAAAAFE/sbGWWVMRf8s/s400/Bridals-3090b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651967074718455682" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;8.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_zMcK0s_VUU/Tm_R3LWP_1I/AAAAAAAAAE8/XxGiIO-KJSc/s400/Bridals-3047.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651966803242385234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_ZMhjWWebr8/Tm_So6w3oXI/AAAAAAAAAFs/4qEcYiK_hNo/s400/Bridals-3192.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651967657784090994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;6.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PT_9_wy5hs4/Tm_RQ35_VnI/AAAAAAAAAEk/McY01yvvMLM/s400/Bridals-3211.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651966145188550258" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sz5Q2eeAmoY/Tm_SY-K8cGI/AAAAAAAAAFc/afipwfxD868/s400/Bridals-3176.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651967383820857442" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YjLGaKaKFNY/Tm_SYbaVqHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/mW1feIe9mlA/s400/Bridals-3112.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651967374490183794" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3im9xhdlrfM/Tm_SHCznEoI/AAAAAAAAAFM/4LWpv7sNX8Q/s400/Bridals-3086.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651967075827520130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XR2EOXskKB0/Tm_R2jpvSWI/AAAAAAAAAE0/wK0qcuwQqVI/s400/Bridals-3185.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651966792586709346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qLGmZGZquzg/Tm_RdooVZ-I/AAAAAAAAAEs/Pf9Jz6S3GV0/s400/Bridals-3078.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651966364426266594" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;We got these taken at the Noni Gardens down in the Riverwoods. The garden was very pretty, but the weather happened to by bipolar that day. We spent out evening running out when the rain stopped, taking a few pictures, then running back to cover when it started raining again. Then we would do the process all over again. It would go from sunny to pouring to sunny in a matter of minutes. It really was quite the adventure. After only sleeping 2 or so hours the night before and then trying to ditch the rain for two hours I was beat. I was hoping to fit in a nap that day, but never quite got around to it.  Luckily the red, tired eyes aren’t too noticeable in any of the pictures.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Going to the Temple&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I was able to go through the temple on August 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; for the first time. So many people tried to tell me know weird it was. A few told me that it wasn’t really weird, just different. I’m not going to lie, before I went I was so nervous about going. It’s one of those things that I have known about my entire life, but I didn’t really know about it at all. Luckily Scott’s sister, Heidi, went through for her first time with me. I was glad to have someone there that I knew was just as nervous as I was. In the end it wasn’t as scary or as nerve wracking as I thought it was going to be. Sure, it was a little different, but nothing too weird. I was so happy to have people there for me. My mom, Scott’s mom, Suzanne, Marinda, Aunt Cathy, and Aunt Jill. There were some guys to but I didn’t pay as much attention to them.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The Roast&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My family always does a roast before someone gets married. It’s a way for the family to let the new comer know a little more about what exactly they are getting themselves into. So, that evening we planned a dinner and the roast. A family friend hosted the dinner for us in their home, they were so nice to paint and decorate for it. We had planned for it to start at 6:00 pm. I had forgotten how my family tends to view time, for them 6:00 pm means 7:00 pm. Of course the Scott’s family was there by 6:00. I wasn’t sure if I had explained to his parents what they were supposed to do very well, and didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable if they didn’t know what they were doing. But they did great. I learned about Scott’s obsession with Peter Pan, Spagebitty (Spaghetti), and how he would play Batman and Barbies with Heidi. My family wasn’t as harsh as I imagined they would be. I was actually flattered by what a lot of my family had to say. I am so grateful to be a part of both of these families.  &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Our Wedding Day&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My day started off a little early. My photographer offered to take our pictures early so we could avoid crowds and wouldn’t have to have people waiting around as long after the wedding. That meant me getting up around 5:00 am to do my make-up and collect everything that I would need for the day. Compared to my normal schedule 5 am is sleeping in. People asked me if I slept well the night before, I think that if you sleep as much as I do then you can sleep anytime, and anywhere without any problem. I woke up and decided to try on my dress to decide which garments to wear under it. The first top I tried didn’t work, the second… it showed too, the third was no good either. At this point I was about to freak out (How bridezilla of me). Finally the last top I had worked, but it was a close call. I finished up at my house and was at the salon by 6:00 am. Courtney was nice enough to come in that early to do my hair. I picked up Scott and we were off to the temple for pictures. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fGawvg_rjvQ/Tm_buNJSLQI/AAAAAAAAAHM/FDi-Qqf9ldI/s1600/Wedding-3788.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fGawvg_rjvQ/Tm_buNJSLQI/AAAAAAAAAHM/FDi-Qqf9ldI/s400/Wedding-3788.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651977644222328066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CXHywX-EqAs/Tm_btojtB3I/AAAAAAAAAHE/EWekIAYmHQU/s1600/Wedding-3754.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CXHywX-EqAs/Tm_btojtB3I/AAAAAAAAAHE/EWekIAYmHQU/s400/Wedding-3754.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651977634401027954" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z4xkTkyoy4I/Tm_bfMQ4eBI/AAAAAAAAAG8/taxbiJ6SJD0/s1600/Wedding-3741.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z4xkTkyoy4I/Tm_bfMQ4eBI/AAAAAAAAAG8/taxbiJ6SJD0/s400/Wedding-3741.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651977386287724562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gKW6fpQUW14/Tm_be4_-p7I/AAAAAAAAAG0/7oSmPN6XSNU/s1600/Wedding-3727.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gKW6fpQUW14/Tm_be4_-p7I/AAAAAAAAAG0/7oSmPN6XSNU/s400/Wedding-3727.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651977381116553138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yx79pfbP7aU/Tm_bLvsQpjI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gnfBY5G3_U0/s1600/Wedding-3784.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yx79pfbP7aU/Tm_bLvsQpjI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gnfBY5G3_U0/s400/Wedding-3784.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651977052200412722" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zkoGEld7vCI/Tm_bLWZiJQI/AAAAAAAAAGk/RtBRCEjRlRY/s1600/Wedding-3701.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zkoGEld7vCI/Tm_bLWZiJQI/AAAAAAAAAGk/RtBRCEjRlRY/s400/Wedding-3701.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651977045410981122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HqXFrWtO6Fo/Tm_a4voPkLI/AAAAAAAAAGc/nGlMJgKXTMI/s1600/Wedding-3682.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HqXFrWtO6Fo/Tm_a4voPkLI/AAAAAAAAAGc/nGlMJgKXTMI/s400/Wedding-3682.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651976725766049970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I2zK-MJNuZo/Tm_a4X5w1eI/AAAAAAAAAGU/hA3XUe-8Vw4/s1600/Wedding-3669.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I2zK-MJNuZo/Tm_a4X5w1eI/AAAAAAAAAGU/hA3XUe-8Vw4/s400/Wedding-3669.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651976719397082594" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CxAWGrpWFvw/Tm_aX8BVftI/AAAAAAAAAGM/X2xp9jcDxjw/s1600/Wedding-3807.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CxAWGrpWFvw/Tm_aX8BVftI/AAAAAAAAAGM/X2xp9jcDxjw/s400/Wedding-3807.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651976162156838610" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7rKgmx069gw/Tm_aXX4OWKI/AAAAAAAAAGE/TuF2mrrlZFI/s1600/Wedding-3697.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7rKgmx069gw/Tm_aXX4OWKI/AAAAAAAAAGE/TuF2mrrlZFI/s400/Wedding-3697.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651976152454944930" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-67PlSE1JyBc/Tm_Z-4xknAI/AAAAAAAAAF8/tuubZt2_6dM/s1600/Wedding-3676.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-67PlSE1JyBc/Tm_Z-4xknAI/AAAAAAAAAF8/tuubZt2_6dM/s400/Wedding-3676.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651975731788684290" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlpjAWCmt8/Tm_Z9UbnVFI/AAAAAAAAAF0/OtPjR1AzBZI/s1600/Wedding-3661.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlpjAWCmt8/Tm_Z9UbnVFI/AAAAAAAAAF0/OtPjR1AzBZI/s400/Wedding-3661.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651975704853042258" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;They went perfectly, the lighting was great, it wasn’t hot and nobody was around. I had forgotten to get a throw bouquet and so we were just going to run by a store to grab some roses. We debated about going home and changing first but that would take more time. So what did we do? We went to Wal-Mart fully dressed for our wedding.  We got some pretty strange looks, but we saved time not going home to change. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IheQbkDALjY/TnAguaDjb1I/AAAAAAAAAHk/ZfqMd0G0Tfk/s1600/TempImage1315953728271.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IheQbkDALjY/TnAguaDjb1I/AAAAAAAAAHk/ZfqMd0G0Tfk/s400/TempImage1315953728271.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652053513990270802" style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gr06n-NSDjs/TnAgFAmJqxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/U_YEvUj31is/s1600/TempImage1315953719620.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gr06n-NSDjs/TnAgFAmJqxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/U_YEvUj31is/s400/TempImage1315953719620.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652052802781424402" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;We had a little bit of spare time, and then it was back to the temple, this time for the real deal. There was a lot more waiting around then I thought there would be in the temple. Finally we went into the sealing room, and I was amazed that so many people showed up to support us. Our sealer was awesome! I have only been to two temple ceremonies so I don’t have much to compare it to, but I loved ours. (I  am pretty sure that is how everyone feels about their own) It was great to be surrounded by so many people, Aunts and Uncles that I hadn’t seen in years. When the ceremony was over we went back into the dressing room to touch up my make-up and check my hair. We walked out of the temple only to be surrounded by so many more people. I didn’t realize how many people were actually there for us until I got our pictures back and saw how huge our group was. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  "&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oAyL2PEd0V8/TnAj7MX1szI/AAAAAAAAAI0/KSrZgf0l0gg/s1600/Wedding-3865.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B46u3uqQ9Y4/TnAiVIDBIkI/AAAAAAAAAHs/sADGvo4IaaI/s400/Wedding-3815.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652055278682710594" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  "&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oAyL2PEd0V8/TnAj7MX1szI/AAAAAAAAAI0/KSrZgf0l0gg/s1600/Wedding-3865.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jY6LytTyUwc/TnAiVbwd9wI/AAAAAAAAAH0/XQ80RVsDrUo/s400/Wedding-3821.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652055283973617410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  "&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oAyL2PEd0V8/TnAj7MX1szI/AAAAAAAAAI0/KSrZgf0l0gg/s1600/Wedding-3865.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;  "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2MnUZXKgIuo/TnAizWa_fPI/AAAAAAAAAIE/CLYBtWK70y0/s1600/Wedding-3836.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2MnUZXKgIuo/TnAizWa_fPI/AAAAAAAAAIE/CLYBtWK70y0/s400/Wedding-3836.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652055797937437938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-izdCMegcn9Y/TnAizBliVhI/AAAAAAAAAH8/ZSFZz1ovO-c/s1600/Wedding-3840.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-izdCMegcn9Y/TnAizBliVhI/AAAAAAAAAH8/ZSFZz1ovO-c/s400/Wedding-3840.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652055792344520210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oAyL2PEd0V8/TnAj7MX1szI/AAAAAAAAAI0/KSrZgf0l0gg/s400/Wedding-3865.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652057032190440242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiP77edZ4C4/TnAjhvKJ9rI/AAAAAAAAAIk/KfhTuC1Ao84/s1600/Wedding-3879.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jiyL5hDowpw/TnAjZkzbOPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Z4cIb3ck_D8/s1600/Wedding-3880.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jiyL5hDowpw/TnAjZkzbOPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Z4cIb3ck_D8/s400/Wedding-3880.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652056454633044210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9hxhNjfXAe0/TnAjFWzCkWI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Y6SIITScA-k/s1600/Wedding-3873.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9hxhNjfXAe0/TnAjFWzCkWI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Y6SIITScA-k/s400/Wedding-3873.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652056107275948386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline;  "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiP77edZ4C4/TnAjhvKJ9rI/AAAAAAAAAIk/KfhTuC1Ao84/s400/Wedding-3879.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652056594851690162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z4yYZk-j8KE/TnAjEzPWZmI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ETvmDYMElTo/s1600/Wedding-3861.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z4yYZk-j8KE/TnAjEzPWZmI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ETvmDYMElTo/s400/Wedding-3861.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652056097731012194" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in;  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Pictures went a little longer than I had planned on them taking and we were a little late for our luncheon. The food was great, we had a choice of beef, chicken, or fish and then we had three choices for dessert, berries and ice cream, lemon something, and a chocolate fudge cake. Everything that I tasted was great. Because pictures went late, the luncheon went late, and we still had to set up for the reception. The reception started at 6:00, and we got there at 5:30 to set up. I was almost in tears as we tried to rush and get everything put together. On top of trying to get everything set up we were supposed to take pictures with our bridesmaids and groomsmen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:13.3333px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Uj2bkFPuWHs/TnAlaxdVVDI/AAAAAAAAAJU/p5dxQ_be1cQ/s1600/Wedding-3922.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Uj2bkFPuWHs/TnAlaxdVVDI/AAAAAAAAAJU/p5dxQ_be1cQ/s400/Wedding-3922.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652058674233168946" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y1fRSK2ZqKM/TnAmkS-LOBI/AAAAAAAAAKE/CuT4pLaXI4k/s1600/Wedding-3979.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;  "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-609JO2nWwgA/TnAlbKkP7DI/AAAAAAAAAJc/N7x-KelAlT8/s1600/Wedding-3926b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-609JO2nWwgA/TnAlbKkP7DI/AAAAAAAAAJc/N7x-KelAlT8/s400/Wedding-3926b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652058680973061170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tq4-ROoMbq0/TnAmBRhIewI/AAAAAAAAAJk/eDiD-ZakXWw/s400/Wedding-3947.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652059335674067714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;  "&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y1fRSK2ZqKM/TnAmkS-LOBI/AAAAAAAAAKE/CuT4pLaXI4k/s1600/Wedding-3979.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S1Wus7JWwSI/TnAmCEbH-MI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/upTa1orfg3Y/s400/Wedding-3940.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652059349339076802" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c0uRGiTJvPE/TnAmB2higPI/AAAAAAAAAJs/84GmSamco-E/s400/Wedding-3943.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652059345607885042" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sHos3vopFbg/TnAmkIDmclI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/802ivXI36Nw/s1600/Wedding-3961.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sHos3vopFbg/TnAmkIDmclI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/802ivXI36Nw/s400/Wedding-3961.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652059934429704786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y1fRSK2ZqKM/TnAmkS-LOBI/AAAAAAAAAKE/CuT4pLaXI4k/s400/Wedding-3979.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652059937359738898" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;We were rushing to get the pictures done as people were starting to show up. Then once we got in our line I had no idea what was going on for the rest of the reception. I had so many people there to help out, and as far I as I know everything went pretty smoothly. I am so grateful for everyone who made everything go work out! I also got many compliments on our food selection. Thanks, Grandma and Brook for the tarts and Cream Puffs and for helping with everything! I didn’t hear any complaints, other than how long our line was, so I will just assume everything else went okay. Our cake was huge, a couple tiers of lemon raspberry, and a couple chocolate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PUU7dvvhaww/TnAk8wu2b1I/AAAAAAAAAI8/frC5i23m5EY/s400/Wedding-4035.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652058158642130770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); " /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;A little into the reception we cut the cake, that way people would eat it and we would end up with enough cake to feed a small country. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4BLMhoIta4A/TnAlakRCJfI/AAAAAAAAAJM/MupC5ike7Xk/s1600/Wedding-4052.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4BLMhoIta4A/TnAlakRCJfI/AAAAAAAAAJM/MupC5ike7Xk/s400/Wedding-4052.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652058670691919346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iy5aSSKktHk/TnAk9Eg2zdI/AAAAAAAAAJE/FMz65csLTPs/s1600/Wedding-4044.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iy5aSSKktHk/TnAk9Eg2zdI/AAAAAAAAAJE/FMz65csLTPs/s400/Wedding-4044.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652058163952143826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Then we got back in line and greeted more people. The reception place was great. The owner of the reception place, not so great. I think she was deemed “The Dragon Lady” by our wedding party. At exactly 8:00 (the time my invitation said our reception ended) The Dragon Lady grabbed my hand and was pulling me away from the line so I could throw my bouquet an do our first dance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My cousin Emma from Washington caught the bouquet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3ytMTXU3RE/TnAm_e2aRqI/AAAAAAAAAKU/4OQpuasj2XY/s1600/Wedding-4076.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s4i0u0b6SdQ/TnAmkrc2w0I/AAAAAAAAAKM/VJkiB4GtibA/s400/Wedding-4072.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652059943930872642" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3ytMTXU3RE/TnAm_e2aRqI/AAAAAAAAAKU/4OQpuasj2XY/s400/Wedding-4076.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652060404404864674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;There were only a few more people in line. I was surprised that she was so pushy about getting everything finished. She just wasn’t a very nice lady at all. We had our first dance, and honestly, I wish the song we chose was shorter. Rocking back and forth for 4 minutes really isn’t very interesting for anyone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tyimvGCDsqs/TnAm_8Eh1II/AAAAAAAAAKc/ORJoZH-p29c/s1600/Wedding-4096.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tyimvGCDsqs/TnAm_8Eh1II/AAAAAAAAAKc/ORJoZH-p29c/s400/Wedding-4096.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652060412248708226" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Then we had my daddy daughter dance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Skaluwvwu1w/TnAnAC9UspI/AAAAAAAAAKk/N3Krr9UX9xE/s1600/Wedding-4129.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Skaluwvwu1w/TnAnAC9UspI/AAAAAAAAAKk/N3Krr9UX9xE/s400/Wedding-4129.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652060414097535634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;We changed out of our fancy clothes and we were off. We stayed the night up in Salt Lake at the Grand America Hotel. It was the perfect day, no huge glitches and no major break downs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T1pH9oS9RKI/TnAoRXDTzJI/AAAAAAAAAKs/ZC5avTkqYOA/s1600/Wedding-4170.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T1pH9oS9RKI/TnAoRXDTzJI/AAAAAAAAAKs/ZC5avTkqYOA/s400/Wedding-4170.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652061811060755602" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uoR8dhy2Jw4/TnAoRrLVXtI/AAAAAAAAAK0/gTBkMLPeuNw/s1600/Wedding-4174.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uoR8dhy2Jw4/TnAoRrLVXtI/AAAAAAAAAK0/gTBkMLPeuNw/s400/Wedding-4174.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652061816463122130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The Honeymoon&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I knew the day that Scott was going to propose, so he decided to keep where we were going on our honeymoon a secret from me. He did such a great job not spilling the beans. He never let any hints slip other than the fact that I needed a passport. I did a good job not asking. We had let his whole family know it was a secret and that I wasn’t supposed to know. We had stuck around for a week after our wedding to make sure we were there for Scott’s sister’s wedding the Friday after ours. After the ceremony we were waiting for them to come out of the temple and Uncle Reid came up and said “When are your guys taking off to Cancun?” I thought that he was just trying to trick me, we have gotten a lot of “So… Idaho for the honeymoon” or “Yeah it’s good to stay close to home, St. George is great this time of year.” I thought that was what this was too. Then when I looked at Scotts face I realized that the secret had been revealed and we really were going to Cancun. We left the next morning and it took forever to get through the Mexican airport. When you finish customs you go through another security gate, you push a button, if you are green then you are free to go, if you’re red then you get to have your bags searched. Of course, I got red. She opens my suitcase and the items of clothing that I had on top just happened to be the things I received at a bridal shower. They pulled out a thing or two, looked at me and then continued to search through the rest of my bag. AWKWARD. Then we were off to the resort, which was amazing! They had an infinity pool, and while standing in the pool it looked like it lead straight into the ocean. The water was the brightest blue I have ever seen water be. It was also perfect temperature, no cold shock when you first got in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tY-IW4nkTPk/TnDJl7HLw2I/AAAAAAAAALk/3KNH9TD9z-o/s1600/IMG_0001.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tY-IW4nkTPk/TnDJl7HLw2I/AAAAAAAAALk/3KNH9TD9z-o/s400/IMG_0001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652239185710138210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; We spent our days eating tacos, nachos, and quesadillas and our evenings watching movies, playing on the beach, or at the shopping place across the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GNuP0h8ZyZM/TnDKEEeexPI/AAAAAAAAALs/C_AbD_g9yjY/s1600/IMG_0083.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GNuP0h8ZyZM/TnDKEEeexPI/AAAAAAAAALs/C_AbD_g9yjY/s400/IMG_0083.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652239703619847410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PLEcmSI-y6A/TnDIWwA5SaI/AAAAAAAAALM/xGHTY55jPQE/s1600/IMG_0082.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PLEcmSI-y6A/TnDIWwA5SaI/AAAAAAAAALM/xGHTY55jPQE/s400/IMG_0082.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652237825521306018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b5oexama_zg/TnDIXOS8_WI/AAAAAAAAALU/8VbtvNMuDCk/s1600/IMG_0100.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b5oexama_zg/TnDIXOS8_WI/AAAAAAAAALU/8VbtvNMuDCk/s400/IMG_0100.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652237833650109794" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nVxQsqzoHag/TnDJluJpmMI/AAAAAAAAALc/HgfkiK6YcsI/s1600/IMG_0147.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nVxQsqzoHag/TnDJluJpmMI/AAAAAAAAALc/HgfkiK6YcsI/s400/IMG_0147.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652239182230821058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;One of the days we went to Chichen Itza. We signed up for the Express trip, we left the resort at 8:00 am and we got back at 3:00 pm. It wasn’t as express as we thought it was going to be, but it was very cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YXy7AqQmBtw/TnDHbQre2wI/AAAAAAAAALE/afIz2vwBiS0/s400/IMG_0032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652236803497712386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; On a different day we went snorkeling at two different National reefs. It was cool seeing the fish, Scott even got to see a barracuda. The honeymoon was great. It was nice to have time to relax, and just hang out, although I am not very good at it. We came home the following Saturday. I got stopped at security again at the airport and they had to check my bag again. Then Scott got stopped at the gate and his bags were checked. I guess we look like terrorists to the people at the Mexico airport.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I still cannot believe that it has been a month already. It has been fun, other than the fact that I never get to see Scott now that school started. This post was a novel, but there has been so much going on that needed to be written about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; font-family:Calibri, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;  "&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tq4-ROoMbq0/TnAmBRhIewI/AAAAAAAAAJk/eDiD-ZakXWw/s1600/Wedding-3947.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;  "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-609JO2nWwgA/TnAlbKkP7DI/AAAAAAAAAJc/N7x-KelAlT8/s1600/Wedding-3926b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3661180359868805649?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3661180359868805649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3661180359868805649&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3661180359868805649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3661180359868805649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/09/past-few-month-of-my-life.html' title='The past few months of my life'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9fqd19EpfEA/Tm5UHnP5q2I/AAAAAAAAADE/VnhPw0Msd4k/s72-c/Engagements-9029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7224549139769609728</id><published>2011-07-20T06:39:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T06:55:40.274-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Crazy Crazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Over Christmas break I made a promise with two of my roommates from freshman year at BYU (The two responsible for me meeting Scott). We promised that each of us would update our blogs once a month. January and February were easy to find time to blog, not as easy to find things to blog about. I kept wishing that something big was happening in my life that I could blog about. Well, now something big is happening in my life, and I still don’t know what to blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting married in less than a month and my life has been consumed by everything that goes into getting married. I feel like I am pretty much done with the planning, but I am sure I will realize that I forgot a ton of stuff once the date gets closer. The big things have been taken care of. I have the temple scheduled on August 6th, and my endowments scheduled for August 5th. I have a receptions center scheduled, I have asked a couple people to help with my reception food (Thanks by the way!), I have my dress, invites are sent out, and I have my fiancé (The most import thing to have). That’s all I really need, isn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it is all the little things that I need to worry about. How do I get one of my bridesmaids out to Utah from Virginia? Will the idea I have in my head for my center pieces work out as well as I would like? Who all is planning on attending the sealing, and luncheon? What do I want to do for my send off? Veil or no veil? What would I like the guys to wear? How do I clear up my skin before Aug 6th, because I think the stress is making me break out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are part of my family, or a close friend that wants to participate then you are welcome to come. As of right now we are planning on doing a roast for me and Scott the evening of August 5th. I would love for anyone who is in town to be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are both pros and cons of getting married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CONS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· I have to plan a wedding&lt;br /&gt;· I don’t know how to respond when someone I don’t know gets me a gift&lt;br /&gt;· There is so much to do and to think about&lt;br /&gt;· The funds in bank account keeps getting smaller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PROS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;· I have a bunch of great pictures of me and Scott&lt;br /&gt;· I finally will get to know what happens in the temple&lt;br /&gt;· People give us gifts&lt;br /&gt;· I GET TO MARRY SCOTT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is like the week of bridal showers for me. Saturday I had a ward bridal shower, there were a lot of people I didn’t know, I guess that is what happens when you leave your home ward for a singles ward for a few years. Then yesterday I had a family bridal shower that Scott’s aunts threw for me and Heidi. They call it a traditions shower and everyone brings a gift that is a tradition for their family. It was fun hearing the different things they do as traditions. Tomorrow I have my last bridal shower, which is the one my college and high school friends are coming to. I didn’t think I would have anyone to throw me a bridal shower and I ended up with 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my bridals yesterday, which was quite the adventure. The weather has been so crazy lately. Within minutes the weather went from being sunny one minute to an absolute down pour the next, then back to sunny. I now can say that I have had to run in a wedding dress, haha. I hope the pictures turned out okay, considering the fact that I only got about an hour and a half of sleep the night before. The good news is that I have an amazing photographer, seriously I usually hate pictures of me, but our engagements turned out so well that me and Scott had a hard time choosing which picture we like best out of the 37 we narrowed it down to. If you are in Utah County and in need of a great photographer I would recommend Melanie Paxton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is also a lot going on with me outside of wedding stuff. I am in the middle of a promotion at work. I am getting trained to do a bunch of new things. I am excited for the promotion to actually go through. I have been switching off between day shifts and graveyard shifts. It isn’t too back when I work a graveyard shift and then have a good 26 hours before my next shift, but when I go from the day to the graveyard shift the 6 hours between doesn’t feel very long at all. The best part is that I am picking up an extra shift which means I am getting some overtime pay. The worst part is I have only gotten about 4 hours of sleep in the last 2 nights. Lets hope for my sanity that I can get some sleep tonight &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7224549139769609728?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7224549139769609728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7224549139769609728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7224549139769609728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7224549139769609728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/07/crazy-crazy-crazy.html' title='Crazy Crazy Crazy'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-593777991745871166</id><published>2011-06-07T04:23:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T04:25:15.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2 months to go!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;I should have updated everyone on the date as soon as we decided, but I didn’t. We finally made the decision to tie the knot on…(imagine drumroll) August 6&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;. We will be sealed in the Mount Timpanogos Temple, and then we will live happily ever after. That’s how it works, right? You know, there are things that I really look forward to about getting married.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;a)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;I get to be with my Best Friend forever.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;b)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;I won’t have to say goodbye to Scott at the end of the day, every day.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;c)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He gets to wear a ring too (show the world that he is taken)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;d)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;We will get to know each other even more (learn how to push each other’s buttons)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;e)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Scott will be upgraded from ‘Fiancé’ to ‘Husband’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;f)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;My home will be his home &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;g)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Have someone to tickle my back&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Things that I don’t really look forward to about marriage&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;a)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Twice the dirty laundry (my least favorite chore that cannot ever be escaped)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; text-indent: -0.25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0.75in; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;"&gt;b)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;I will no longer have my last name. For some reason there was a sense of pride that came with that last name…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;See look, the pros totally out weigh the cons. I love my life.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0in; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Family: I would love to have anyone come out for my wedding but so many of you live pretty far away so I don’t expect it. Also, for anyone planning on coming we will be doing a Roast the night before the wedding (the evening of Aug 5&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;) so if you want to participate you are totally welcome to. Also, I need addresses so it would be great if you would email me or facebook message me with your address so I don’t have to hunt it down later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-593777991745871166?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/593777991745871166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=593777991745871166&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/593777991745871166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/593777991745871166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/06/2-months-to-go.html' title='2 months to go!!'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-8798600401646706555</id><published>2011-05-21T21:50:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T23:40:41.179-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Engaged</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; line-height: 24px; "&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;This time I am the one who is engaged. It’s even facebook official, thanks to Kelci. So here are the answers to all the questions that I have been getting. I will put headings on all the pieces of the story incase you just want to jump to the how he proposed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 21pt; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Our Story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 18pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;I laugh because we have what I consider to be the ideal BYU relationship. Growing up in Provo I always swore that I would never be one of those typical Provo girls when it came to dating. I didn’t even want to go to BYU because I felt like that was too cliché coming from Provo. Boy, am I glad that I did now that I look back on the last couple years. Me and Scott met Freshman year at a Service project at BYU on January 2st, 2008. He went to high school with my roommates and they invited him and his roommate Nick. We saw each other everyday after that for almost 6 months. We officially started dating on March 2, 2008. Then on May 6, 2009 he left on his mission to Japan. We wrote almost every week (we probably missed 15 letters between the two of us). He came home on March 17, 2011 and we started dating again. I guess it doesn’t quite follow the real trend for a BYU girl. If that was the case then I would have been married before he got home, and probably had a kid by now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 21pt; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Getting the Ring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 18pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;We went ring shopping a couple weeks ago, and picked out what ring we liked. Scott’s dad is friends with the owner of a jewelry store in Provo so we when to him to get a deal. We ordered the ring and they told us to come back in a couple days to look at the wax model to make sure it is what we wanted. When we looked at the wax version we made a couple changes to how it looked and then sent it off to get made. They told us it would take about a week to get it back. Then they called and pushed it back a little further. Scott wouldn’t tell me what the new date would be so I felt like they extended the finish date by FOREVER. Then on top of that we had to have it shipped out of state so we could save some money on the tax. So it got shipped up to Wyoming for my dad to ship back to us. I guess this was a bigger hassle than we bargained for. When the FedEx guy showed up he said that he needed Scott Robinson to sign for it and that he would need ID. Luckily they were able to call the manager of the FedEx store there and explain the circumstance. My dad was coming to Utah anyway so instead of shipping it back he just brought it to us. Me and Scott were sitting in the car, and we were both dying to see the ring so we opened the first box, and then the second box, and then the ring box’s box, finally we get to the ring box. What does Scott do? He tells me to shut my eyes while he looks at the ring. As much as I really wanted to look I closed my eyes as he told me how shiny and pretty it looked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 21pt; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Getting Engaged&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 18pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Me and Scott are your typical working students. We work, go to school, and sit in the library all day studying. Sometimes it’s hard to keep up with Spring classes because they go twice as fast as classes during the regular semester. We just finished round one of midterms so we haven’t had much time to do anything. Usually we try to do something ‘fun’ when I don’t have to work the next morning (this means I can stay up later that 8 or 9 at night). This week I had Friday off so I knew Thursday was our night to go out. Since we already had the ring I figured that there would be a good chance that this is when Scott would ask me. I had been bugging him all week saying things like “I don’t care how you propose, you can just ask me”, or “You know, we could get engaged right now, if you want to”. Just stupid things trying to figure out when in the world he was going to ask. Thursday we finished up our classes and we went to the library to do some studying. Then I asked him what the plan was for the night. He said that we should go out to eat and then go to a movie. My response was “… and then?”. He just smiled and said “and then I have a surprise for you”. Really he was going to make me sit through a dinner and a movie? Lame!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 18pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;We went to PF Changs for dinner, the place we went on our very first date, and also on our first date after he came home from his mission. There was a date night special thing where we got soup, an appetizer, 2 entrees and then a mini dessert for each of us. Dinner was great and I was anxious just to get the movie over with so I could get my surprise. Scott got up to go wash his hands after we ate, and I debated whether it would be fair for me to pay for dinner or not. I decided that Scott would be pretty upset if I did. Scott had just sat back down at the table when the waiter came up with the check and the fortune cookies. I was way confused because there were 3 cookies on the plate the he brought. Which probably was good, I was too worried about there being 3 cookies that I didn’t realize that they weren’t wrapped. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Me and Scott both grabbed a cookie and he cracked his and put the fortune face down, and then looked at me like, “you go first”. So I opened up my cookie and the fortune said “Amber, will you marry me?” Next thing I know Scott is on his knee next to the booth we were sitting at with the ring box asking me to marry him. Of course I said yes! A few minutes later the waiter came up and said “Are we celebrating?” He opened up a bottle of sparkling cider and poured them into some champagne glasses for us. It was way cute, and I no longer have a boyfriend… he’s been upgraded to my fiancé.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 18pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Scott has been in my life for 1216 days so far and I am looking forward to the many more ahead of us!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 21pt; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Wedding Bells&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; line-height: 18pt; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Picking a wedding date has been harder than I thought. Before he left we picked the date August 6, 2011. It was more of a joke, but the more we joked about it the more serious the idea became. That date just seemed perfect. It was before school started for most people, so it would be good timing for anyone who was coming out of state to be here. It was August so the weather would be warm, possibly even hot (I really don’t like cold). My wedding pictures would have color to them instead of a white background. Scott’s little sister got engaged a few weeks ago and her wedding is scheduled for August 12th. That is only 6 days apart (incase you couldn’t do the math). Which I feel bad for his family, having to do 2 weddings in less than a week, that’s really stressful. Luckily they only have one daughter getting married, not 2. I think that we will be able to handle most of the stressful stuff about our wedding so they won’t have to worry about it. August 19th is still in the running, but as of right now we are leaning toward August 6th. If you have an opinion on my date, lets hear it. I will finalize it soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;I think that covers everything so if you have any other questions or things that you want to know just comment and I will either do another blog post or write back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pictures&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-se9oLiTGYpk/Tdig1quD_mI/AAAAAAAAACg/yLlWNU3tWe4/s320/IMG_0350.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609410179750952546" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 18px; font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:18.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 18px; font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px;"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oCLdcN2UyPI/Tdig1bpFlOI/AAAAAAAAACY/RkU9cyaSGKs/s320/IMG_0335.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609410175703553250" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:18.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 18px; font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 24px;"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OQ6tI1oI-r8/TdihCS-71YI/AAAAAAAAACo/wkyb4BIEadY/s320/IMG_0351.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609410396717569410" /&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pj1nHXXkL3M/TdihC3aeEPI/AAAAAAAAACw/U4XCLieLaVg/s320/IMG_0355.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609410406496735474" /&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bNz5INtCdqc/TdihDJSOSjI/AAAAAAAAAC4/4nMLE4w_uJY/s320/IMG_0345.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609410411293985330" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-8798600401646706555?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/8798600401646706555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=8798600401646706555&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8798600401646706555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8798600401646706555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/05/im-engaged.html' title='I&apos;m Engaged'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-se9oLiTGYpk/Tdig1quD_mI/AAAAAAAAACg/yLlWNU3tWe4/s72-c/IMG_0350.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-4915239287086178230</id><published>2011-04-25T03:18:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T03:34:55.484-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Engaged!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I know that all of you have been dying for me to put up another post. It has been over a month since I have updated this blog and I don’t know how many times a week I get asked if I am engaged yet.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well, I hate to burst your bubble but I am not engaged.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Scott’s little sister Heidi got engaged last Friday.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am way excited for her and Steve. Since I don’t have a story of my own to share I will tell you theirs. Friday was their 9 month anniversary, so what better day to get engaged. Here’s the 411 on Heidi and Steve. They met working BYU grounds together last summer (I think). On one of their first dates, the one where Steve asked her to officially be his girlfriend, they had a picnic in the middle of a roundabout.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Friday Steve called Heidi and asked if she wanted to go to lunch. They went to Costa and got some food for take-out. They took it to the roundabout for a picnic, and Steve’s roommate was already there, making sure that the bum that was living on the roundabout wasn’t going to ruin their picnic. Could you imagine showing up in some confined space and having a bum just sitting a couple feet away? Luckily the bum wasn’t around. Then they realized that they didn’t have any utensils to eat their food with. Heidi suggested that they go back to his apartment, and grab something to eat with. Then Steve said, wait guess what I have as he pulls nothing from behind his back.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Not being in the situation I can laugh about it, but I don’t know if I would be too happy if I was expecting a ring, and he faked me out) Heidi felt the same way, when she was telling me the story she told me that she hit him. Then he said he was sorry and asked for a hug. After they hugged he bent over and she was wondering what he was trying to pick-up… He pulls out the ring… and the rest is history.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(She said yes, obviously)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Scott had just pulled up in front of my house when I first got her text that said “I’m engaged!”. I ran out to see if he just got the same text as me and see if he knew already or if he had just gotten the same text that I did. He had just gotten the same text that I did. Which makes me happy to know that I am on the same level as Scott is. I was way excited for her, she deserves it. She is one of the cutest girls I know. She is beautiful, and talented, and super nice. She has an amazing voice, and she is so happy all of the time. She’s just super cute. She is a couple years younger than me and Scott.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t know Steve too well, but here’s the scoop on him. He is tall, and thin, and has dark hair. I think he is German. He is better at playing video games than me. He worked on BYU grounds. He is from Ohio… He eats morethan everyone else at dinner (not meant to be an insult). He’s pretty funny, and has a fast wit… Pretty sure that’s all I really know about him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"&gt;CONGRATS Steve and Heidi!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Here are some pictures that I pulled off of facebook... just look how cute they are. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: center;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 320px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e4kAZ9WMrSg/TbU-gpWwJmI/AAAAAAAAABg/tkvJB9jsTgY/s320/45144_423666051371_651481371_5424227_3929654_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599450442283099746" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: center;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L-BJgwMCcqY/TbU-maErPzI/AAAAAAAAABo/0EkzyxCZksc/s320/222410_10150158529236688_532141687_7107313_480466_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599450541259964210" /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: center;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YxJqHvYJP9Y/TbU-V0lgndI/AAAAAAAAABY/9-ZKDvWpBOw/s320/40195_423665336371_651481371_5424214_4109659_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599450256319225298" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&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/2834848494567137876-4915239287086178230?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/4915239287086178230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=4915239287086178230&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4915239287086178230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4915239287086178230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/04/engaged.html' title='Engaged!!'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e4kAZ9WMrSg/TbU-gpWwJmI/AAAAAAAAABg/tkvJB9jsTgY/s72-c/45144_423666051371_651481371_5424227_3929654_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2877126938047911073</id><published>2011-03-21T05:26:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T05:59:04.941-06:00</updated><title type='text'>He's HOME!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I hate to let everyone down, but I really don't have a lot to say. The past couple of days have been very... unexpected. I would have never imagined the chain of events that have happened. I don't even know where to start. Everyone keeps asking me for an update of some kind or another, and I don't know what to tell them. There isn't much news other than the fact that Scott is home, and he is doing well. I apologize about all of the phone calls, texts, Facebook posts, emails and such that I have ignored, but I have kinda just been in my own little world for the last couple days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am pretty sure I was still in shock that Scott was home until yesterday. Everything still feels like a dream sometimes. I never thought the day Scott would come home would ever get here, and now that it has I have a hard time believing he's really home. When I am with him, I still constantly look up from what ever we are doing to make sure he's really there, and he REALLY is there. It sounds kinda funny writing it, but I just don't want him to ever leave again. I am really happy, he makes me really happy. I love him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other than that there really isn't much of a story here. Grandma, I know I promised a picture, but I haven't gotten around to it. Maybe I will today, or tomorrow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2877126938047911073?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2877126938047911073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2877126938047911073&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2877126938047911073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2877126938047911073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/03/hes-home.html' title='He&apos;s HOME!'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3042750823249921206</id><published>2011-02-28T16:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T16:44:27.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>February as a whole</title><content type='html'>I feel like a total slacker, I mean honestly how hard is one blog a month? It isn't even like I am doing much these days. Just the same ol' thing I do everyday. &lt;div&gt;I really like my job still, I used to dread going to work, but with the job that I have now I don't dread. Sure, sometimes I don't really feel like getting out of bed at 1 in the morning, but I don't know anyone who doesn't have those days. I get great benefits, I am insured, I will get some of my tuition reimbursed, I already have 3 days worth of Paid Time Off, I just got a referral bonus from someone getting hired. It's nice that work doesn't stress me out, that is the last thing I need. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not a huge fan of my general Chemistry class anymore. I used to like it when we first started classes. I love the teacher, her makes class entertaining, and understandable. I just can't quite get it when I am sitting with a list of known measurements trying to get a final result. I need more practice, but have no time to practice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Organic Chemistry on the other hand is my kind of Chemistry. I love that class. I just took a mid term in that class. I was well above average, in fact I got an 'A'! All those people saying 'you think this is hard, wait until you have to take Organic Chem' they are full of it. OChem is fun, and logical, and it just makes sense. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dance, oh how I love to Dance. Me and Nathaniel are getting pretty good at it. In fact we just competed on Friday. We took 1st place in the Quick Step, and 3rd in the Waltz.... now before you get all excited and start praising me let me give you a little more information. We were the only ones to compete in the Quick Step. Not too hard to get 1st when you are the only ones dancing. Pretty much it was us doing a solo for a room full of experience dancers. The worst part, we just barely learned the routine, so... I am pretty sure we made more mistakes than we made correct steps. The waltz is what I love. It is what we are good at, but  we competed against two "experienced" couples. By experienced I mean, they dance on the UVU ballroom team. Not fair for us newbies to go up against them. It was fun, and that is what matters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Scott is still retarded... he doesn't have a release date, but if my math is correct (and math is one of my stronger talents) than he will come home around April 14th or May 26th depending on what transfer her decides to come home. He is applying to the BYU school of business, and the application is due at the end of June, meaning he needs to come home to take his last prerequisite for the major. He wrote BYU asking if they would let him waive that class, and as far as I have heard he hasn't heard back yet. I am secretly hoping that they say no, and they make him come home earlier. I say that I am not upset about it, but lets be honest 6 weeks is a long freakin' time. Sure it isn't long compared to the 2 years he has already been out, but when you look forward to something for so long, and then have it possibly be postponed there will always be some degree of disappointment. I haven't ever been pregnant before, but I imagine that is how you would feel at the end of 9 months, and then the doctor saying you still have a few weeks to go. My situation isn't as physically uncomfortable, but emotionally I think it could be kinda, somewhat comparable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Honestly, not much is going on in my life. I will try to be better on keeping this blog updated, maybe even post a few pictures. I love my life, but I could use a few more hours in my day :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3042750823249921206?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3042750823249921206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3042750823249921206&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3042750823249921206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3042750823249921206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/02/february-as-whole.html' title='February as a whole'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3060162169069306685</id><published>2011-01-13T14:36:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T16:50:26.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It has been a while</title><content type='html'>I'm sure you are all wondering if I am surviving my hectic schedule... my response to that is you have no need to be concerned about me, I dropped 3.5 credits which leaves me at a very doable load of 13.5 credits. I actually enjoy my schedule a lot. Last semester my schedule was the opposite as I have now. I am not the type of person who will call out of work because I am tired. So starting my day off with work, even if it does mean waking up at midnight, means that I will have a much more productive day.&lt;div&gt;Last semester, I fell into a terrible habit of sleeping in, and missing my first one or two classes. Now that isn't really an option, I go to work, then I go straight to school. Which give me a lot of time to study and get caught up on things (hence, this blogpost) Every semester I have never been able to attend any TA hours or go to any study groups because I always went to work and wasn't available until after it was pretty late. But now... I have so many options and I love it! Plus I love ALL of my classes (minus one) which is a pretty good ratio. I hated my first Chemistry class. All the material was new and foreign to me. This year I am taking two Chem classes and so far I am really enjoying it. There is a certain satisfaction in taking a concept that is new, and getting it (it also increases the satisfaction when you are one of the people in the class to have it 'click') I am a science person, and my first Chem class at BYU made me forget that. It is good to know that I am still smart, that feeling rarely comes at BYU. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My social life, has come and gone. To be honest, I kind of like it this way. Some of my past friends always expected certain things from me, and sometimes it is hard to live up to everyone's expectations (or even harder, living up to my own). If I have a job, and I am in school then chances are I do't really have a whole lot of time. I like people, don't get me wrong but I get enough interaction at school, work, and church. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3060162169069306685?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3060162169069306685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3060162169069306685&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3060162169069306685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3060162169069306685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/01/it-has-been-while.html' title='It has been a while'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-135916785937202679</id><published>2011-01-04T14:25:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T19:00:12.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day of Class Analysis</title><content type='html'>I am super excited for this semester. Have I ever mentioned how much I used to love to dance? Dancing makes me happy. Dancing is my feel good drug. Sure, that is the only class so far that I have had this semester, but I think that it will make me happy. I am in such a good mood, plus I have a guy friend in that class which kind of makes everything better. I can practice, get really good. I think at the end of the semester I might even compete with him. That would be awesome. I competed a couple years ago, and I loved it. I will practice really hard and we will get really good. I think that dancing will help me relieve some stress because I have a couple really heavy classes in my schedule this semester.  I am actually taking 2 dance classes this semester, both latin and standard ballroom bronze level. I am absolutely stoked that my schedule finally allows me to take classes that I want. &lt;div&gt;My next class is ASL... okay, this is how I am going to cheat the system. I am actually really good at ASL. The class is 4 credits, and really how hard can a level one ASL class be when you are fluent? Can you say GPA boost? Because I can, and I look forward to it. It really is quite amazing what a 4 credit A can do to your GPA. :) I just hope that I will feel the same way when I finish the class today. I really am not worried about understanding the material, I am just hoping that I don't have to do a bunch of busy work like writing papers and stuff... So I just finished with ASL. This will be the easiest class I have ever taken in my life. Today we learned like 5 words. Who, What, Where, Name, My... Oh and we learned how to count to ten. I know I am going to get super bored but heck... an A is an A.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My last class of the day is my cell biology class. I am actually really scared about taking this class because I didn't do so well in the prereq for the class. I hated molecular biology. I think this class is mostly about reading scientific journals and explaining how they came to the conclusions that they came to. At least that is the impression that I got from the syllabus. I am crossing my fingers that I just so happen to know someone in my class so I can have someone to study with (more so have someone to teach me the difficult principles on a one on one basis). This is one of the classes that I am more worried about. I suppose if I don't know anyone then I could get out of my box and introduce myself to someone. I wonder if having a study buddy actually helps. Maybe I should just become good friends with the TAs and attend all of the extra study sessions. Wow, I am already freaking out and I haven't even started the class yet. Turns out that this class is going to be HARD!!! I need to get nice and friendly with one of the TAs... that's the only way I am going to pass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Worst part of today... I am now $486.05 poorer. Because of my stupid books!&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/2834848494567137876-135916785937202679?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/135916785937202679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=135916785937202679&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/135916785937202679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/135916785937202679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2011/01/first-day-of-class-analysis.html' title='First Day of Class Analysis'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1164197276918886493</id><published>2010-12-24T17:23:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T17:40:42.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess who I talked to...</title><content type='html'>My life is a wonderful life. I am head over heels for that kid. It was so awesome just to be able to talk to him again. It was almost like it was in person with the whole skype thing. I don't know if it made it easier or harder though. I didn't cry, which make this the first time out of all of the calls that I didn't cry. One thing that is kind of sad is that he still isn't sure on his release date. He has always told me that he thinks that it will be on April 15th. He still isn't positive on the date so I am crossing my fingers that another transfer doesn't get added. I think that I will cry if he stays longer(I don't think I will, I know that I will). He looked so good, and I just miss him so much. It was fun to see his family again. Cross you fingers that he comes home in April for my sanity. He is just so cute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1164197276918886493?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1164197276918886493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1164197276918886493&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1164197276918886493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1164197276918886493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/12/guess-who-i-talked-to.html' title='Guess who I talked to...'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-4931791302757444668</id><published>2010-12-23T17:12:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T19:00:32.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Slacker...but I will tell you about my life anyway</title><content type='html'>I swear once finals started the time that I once had became consumed. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that I started my new job just days before finals week. This is what I decided, I am starting to get tired of school. Sure I have taken of a semester here and there (I probably didn't blog about it because to be quite honest I am a little ashamed of myself, I couldn't handle the stress of school and work. I mean, doesn't that make me weak?) but I have been in school pretty much my entire life. My plan has always been to go to medical school, although I really think I would like being a doctor or surgeon I don't know if that is something that I really want to commit to anymore. Almost 8 more years of school? Right now, that really doesn't appeal to me. So, all of a sudden I am standing in the middle of nowhere, without a map or an escape plan. What do I do now? My last plan included lots of hard work and pretty much longest route from the point I was standing to where I wanted to get. Now I have the freedom to take pretty much any of roads that I come across. My first instinct is be scared and more than just slightly overwhelmed by this new freedom. I supposed this could be a new adventure for me, finding out what I really would like to do (without a million and a half more years of school). So now, I am wandering around, nowhere in particular, and I am going to stop and smell the roses on my way. No need to hurry, heck, I don't even have a destination. Maybe it's because I am a slacker, or maybe it is because I feel like something has changed. &lt;div&gt;I don't quite feel like as much of a slacker anymore, since I have a job again. Really, it is quite depressing when you don't have a job. When you get fired, or laid off they hand you a name tag that says "Not good enough" or "You just weren't worth it"... and then you carry that name tag around with you until you can find a new job. Then in this economy they must being using some sort of superglue because it takes months, and sometimes even years for people to get rid of their name tag and get a shiny new one that says "employed" or sometimes "I did it by myself (I am a big girl now)". Luckily for me it only took a couple months for me to have the opportunity to take off the ugly and unwanted name tag that Zrii (from this point on, instead of calling it by name it will be refered to as hell) handed me back in September. Now I have a shiny new name tag that says Amber Harward, and it's green which happens to be my favorite color. They even liked me enough to put my picture on it. That is only the beginning of the perks that came with my job. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most people get all happy when I tell them I got a job, and then as I start to explain some aspects of my job (such at my schedule) they give me that fake smile, the one that means, I'm glad you think this is good because I sure would hate to be in your shoes right now.  But lets be honest, I freakin LOVE where I work right now. No, I don't see it as a place to spend the rest of my life, but right now it is perfect. I am done with work, at ten o'clock in the morning... which means over this break I have ALL day to play. Then once school starts I can pretty much have any schedule I would like. Instead of work taking up most of my day it only interferes with 2 hours of possible class scheduling. That means I can take the classes I need when I need to take them, unlike before where I would have to push them back another semester until they fit in with my work schedule. I actually have enjoyed my shift, my body hasn't quite adjusted to my new sleep schedule but I am sure that eventually it will feel normal. Another perk, I get 17 days of PTO my first year and then for the next couple years that increases, that is nicer than the 13 days of vacation I had from hell. There are 10 paid holidays, which they may have me work some of them (the 4th of July, Memorial Day, Presidents Day, Pioneer Day, Labor Day) considering they aren't really international holidays and I am on the international team. So instead of getting the day off I get double pay, I'll be done by ten in the morning, so even if festivities where going on it isn't likely I would miss anything. As I mentioned, I am on the international team, because who in their right mind is awake and calling customer service between 2 am and 10 am in the US? That means I get to perfect my British accent, did you know that the weird english accent we all pretend to do actually sounds nothing like a real Brit? Plus I find them much nicer than Americans. They do not call in and tell you what you are going to do for them like Americans, instead they call in, tell me they are having an issue and ASK what we can do to help them solve the issue. Much better than hell if you ask me. Can someone say tuition reimbursement? I can, and I like it. Sure it only covers half of one semester per year, but it goes up every year, and who wouldn't like to have free money to help pay for school? Life is pretty good, and I really do enjoy my job. ps. If you know me and you use ancestry.com (ancestry.co.uk or any other variation) I can give up to 3 friends or family a discount on an annual subscription, and as far as I know, nobody uses it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other good news...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I get to talk to Scott tomorrow!! I am so excited, I love that boy, and I miss that boy, and I just am excited to talk to him. His mission president is even letting him to do skype which means video chat!! YES!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My friend is coming home. Sure I saw him not too long ago, but I really do enjoy his company. I would put his name on, but by some odd chance his family looks at my blog I don't want to mess up the surprise that he is coming home. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I get a real paycheck next week. Hallelujah, I hate the little checks that unemployment gave me (although I was very grateful for them). &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Scott has less than 4 months left! Yes, I am excited if you couldn't tell. Did I mention that I get to talk to him tomorrow? Because I do!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Sorry about the long, and pretty much worthless blog post, but it has been a while. So now you know what is going on with me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-4931791302757444668?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/4931791302757444668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=4931791302757444668&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4931791302757444668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4931791302757444668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-slackerbut-i-will-tell-you-about-my.html' title='I&apos;m a Slacker...but I will tell you about my life anyway'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1470382915345051518</id><published>2010-12-06T08:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T08:27:00.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finals... already?</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe how fast this semester is coming to an end. I am trying to finish up all of the stupid last minute papers and assignments that my teachers have thrown at me. I am really starting to get stressed out. To add to that stress I got a job. A full time job, which the training is this week and next week, and interferes with many of my finals. What was I thinking? Getting a job at the same time as finals? I guess I will do what I have to do. &lt;div&gt;My new job is still in a call center, but I have a feeling it is going to be so much better than my last job. I will be working at ancestry.com and they don't ship out any product which means we won't be getting calls about people not getting their product, or calls about damaged products. We will see what it is like this week. Plus I hear they have great benefits. My school schedule next semester is a little crazy. The last couple years I have been taking mostly general classes, which means there were plenty of different sections to choose from. Now that I am taking higher level classes there are very few options to choose from. One of my classes is only available at 9 or 10 am and another is only available at 4 pm. That's a nice large gap between classes. So this is kind of what my schedule next semester will look like I will work from 2am-10am and then go study in the library until noon, that is when I will start classes. With a few breaks in between I will get out of class between 530 and 6. Then I will sleep from 6 pm-1 am. My schedule is going to be pretty intense next semester, but I think that it will be good. My social life will no longer exist, but I am okay with that. I am excited to have a job again. I was going crazy only doing school. I'm so glad that I have all Christmas break to start getting used to my new work schedule. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1470382915345051518?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1470382915345051518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1470382915345051518&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1470382915345051518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1470382915345051518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/12/finals-already.html' title='Finals... already?'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3516075252823129635</id><published>2010-11-15T20:26:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T20:46:57.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The Little 5:&lt;/div&gt;The number that falls between 4 and 6... and is a low number.&lt;div&gt;The number of points the Jazz are losing by this very second. Good thing it is a fairly low number because that means they can catch up faster. &lt;div&gt;The number of hours I slept for after class (I forgot I turned my alarm on my phone on silent) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is the number of hours I should have spent studying for the midterm I have this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The number of guys that came to FHE tonight (I was the only girl), but I guess the activity was to watch the Eagles game... I like football, but I'd rather watch the Jazz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Big 5:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The number of pounds I plan on gaining over thanksgiving&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The number of pages I have left to write for my 5 page molecular biology paper, which makes the number 5 seem like a bigger and more daunting number than the small 5 that was mentioned previously. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The time that I will probably go to bed, my sleeping schedule is all thrown off. That's easy considering that I don't have a job right now, I can sleep pretty much any time that I want to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most importantly, it is the number of months that Scott has left of his mission... Can you believe it? Neither can I. Time is actually passing. I swear time didn't pass the first 15 months or so. Now, it is starting to go by super fast! Which is exciting/scary. &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/2834848494567137876-3516075252823129635?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3516075252823129635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3516075252823129635&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3516075252823129635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3516075252823129635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/11/5.html' title='5...'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-6772341291542858152</id><published>2010-11-06T21:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T22:07:28.341-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Options....</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I hate dating... Which if you follow my blog you should know by now. Scott only has about 5 1/2 months left before he gets home!! I am so excited to see where that goes. We still write each other every week, and things are going really well. But I am getting bored, I am sick of just going on a date with a different guy every week. I miss Scott like crazy, but 5 1/2 months seems so far away, and I am BORED. So... what should I do? Should I keep doing what I am doing and going out with different guys every week? Or should I date just one person. I have my options. &lt;div&gt;1) Abercrombie... no, that isn't is real name. But he is cute, has the abs of an Abercrombie model, and I like to spend time with him. His downfalls, he pretty much always bails on me. (He said that he has been sick, no way to really verify that one) He still claims that he wants to date me so... I have no idea what I want to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Gym Tim.... That is what he introduced himself as when I met him. He is super funny, and can hold his own in a conversation. We do Monday night movies every week (sorta, that's the plan) His downfalls... When we are with a group of people he is a little immature and he is too sarcastic, but he's fine when we're alone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Just buckle down and be bored, and wait for Scott to get home. I think that once Christmas comes, and I get to talk to him on the phone and the next couple months should be easy. The hard part will be from now until then. I love Scott, we fit together really well while he was here, I know that people change while they are on their missions, but if he is pretty much the same person then I wouldn't want to end up with anyone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At least I have options.... right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-6772341291542858152?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/6772341291542858152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=6772341291542858152&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6772341291542858152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6772341291542858152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/11/options.html' title='Options....'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3236875770232455419</id><published>2010-10-29T09:06:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T10:55:59.057-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It makes me smile...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Somedays I feel like everyone is staring at me when I walk through campus. Sometimes I replay events or conversations in my head and smile. I even catch my self chuckling to my self occasionally. I wonder what other people think as they walk by. Maybe they think that I am crazy... But hey, at least I am entertaining myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is going really good right now. I should probably be studying more than I am, but other&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;than that I can't think of anything that I can change. I like what I am doing, I like what I am studying. I feel like I am getting a lot of things done, cleaning, and organizing stuff. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, someone even came up to me to say hi and talk for a minute. I love when I'm not the one who has to go out of their way to talk to friends. It was a boy I once had a crush on (High School). I was walking to the library with some one and a couple others said hi. I love that I was with someone, because it made me feel popular. Who doesn't like feeling popular every once in a while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Halloween is this weekend.... I have a party tonight, tomorrow and Sunday to go to. I love my costume (I will put up pictures later, after I get all ready). I think that this is the first year that I actually have a costume.  A real costume that I didn't throw together 3 minutes before I walked out the door. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About 5.5 months until Scott gets home. I am excited, very excited... but it's also kinda scary. Five and a half months is not a very long time. It is finally becoming real that he will be coming home pretty soon. It has always been something that would happen just forever in the future, almost something that wouldn't ever happen. Now I am starting to realize that time has past, and the clock is ticking down. CRAZY!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_moiBao-CLa0/TMr646DdaqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JdDrAkthBbE/s320/Photo+on+2010-10-29+at+10.45.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533510947741461154" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I looked like a hippie. I wore a headband thing across my forehead. It was kinda fun. I still can't decide if I actually think that it is cute, or if I just think that it was fun. I kinda like it, it is so different than something that I would usually do. I will have to put a picture up and you can help me to decide. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lots of things make me smile. I am a pretty happy person, and I am enjoying myself right now.  &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/2834848494567137876-3236875770232455419?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3236875770232455419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3236875770232455419&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3236875770232455419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3236875770232455419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/10/it-makes-me-smile.html' title='It makes me smile...'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_moiBao-CLa0/TMr646DdaqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JdDrAkthBbE/s72-c/Photo+on+2010-10-29+at+10.45.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-5654423132032191349</id><published>2010-10-19T22:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T22:36:35.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Work is a no go...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I went in for a working interview. I had a blast, I would have absolutely loved the job. I got to watch a surgery... it wasn't that intense just removal of some skin cancer, but still... there was blood and stitches. The doctor and the PA were great. I got the call today saying that I didn't get the job, but they would like to hold onto my resume incase they have an open position in the future. Which is pretty much code for "We're going to try to make you feel better by saying you have a shot in the future" I am pretty upset about not getting the job. I didn't think that I would be as sad as I am. But being able to go in and go through the motions of what I would be doing made me want the job so much more. I love the medical field... and that is why someday I would LOVE to go to medical school. I am going to send in a thank you note for their time and allowing me to come in and shadow the MA (Medical Assistant). I am hoping that this will make them remember me if a position does come up in the future. I'm grateful that I am getting unemployment and that I didn't NEED the job. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As far as me being social... I have been on 3 dates in the past week, all different guys. They have been pretty fun. I have been friends with all of them for a while, and  they were pretty relaxed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The good news is 6 months... :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-5654423132032191349?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/5654423132032191349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=5654423132032191349&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5654423132032191349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5654423132032191349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/10/work-is-no-go.html' title='Work is a no go...'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-5252921603211736105</id><published>2010-10-14T22:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T22:52:20.492-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Interviews...</title><content type='html'>So as I said in my last post I applied for a medical assisting position. I hardly ever get a news paper while I am at school, but on Monday I decided to pick one up. I looked through the job section of the paper and I found an ad that said. PT Medical Asst. Provo UT, no exp. needed. Please fax resumes to.... I don't know why but I immediately was excited about this ad. I went home, printed off my resume, and then went to the spa to fax it in. Yesterday I got a call asking if I would be willing to come in for an interview. I was super confused when they called, because I didn't really know where I had applied, all I knew is I applied for a medical assisting job. It turns out it is at a dermatologist's office. I went in and met with someone named Steve. At the beginning of the interview he said that they were doing two part interviews, the first was just to put a face to the resume and kind of weed through the applicants and the second would be a little more intense. He said they would call if they decided to do a second interview. It was pretty laid back, he asked me a couple questions about myself, what I am interested in, why I applied for the job, easy stuff.  As we wrapped up the interview he asked me to come in the next day (today) for my second interview. I was excited, it's good news if you can get past the first interview. I was put on a list with about 15 other names for a second interview. Today when I went in I met with a lady named Lisa. She was super nice, and she made me feel comfortable. I think she is the doctor's daughter or something. I was a little concerned because when I got there I was asked to sit out in the main waiting room, I was there for about 10 minutes and then a girl walked out (I assume she just finished with her interview) They called me back to the smaller waiting room where I sat for another 10 minutes or so. Then another girl walked out from the office, and they called me in for my interview. I was in there for about 3 minutes and then they told me I would find out by tomorrow about the position. I went home and was just hanging out when I got a call from the doctors office. I was supposed to find out tomorrow about the position, so I must have been an easy person to take of the list of qualified applicants. I don't have any experience in the field, and I am a full time student. He starts of by saying that they had an overwhelming amount of applicants. They listed it for a day and had 45 people send in resumes. At that point I was sure that he was calling to let me know that I didn't get the job. He then said that they narrowed it down to two applicants, and I was one of them. Neither of us had met the doctor, and he asked if I would be willing to come in for a couple hours on Monday to meet the doctor and nursing staff. Make sure that it was a position that I wanted and we would go from there. I am still in shock. I don't know how I am one of the two people chosen from 45 applicants. It's really exciting for me, and I really hope I get the job. Because it is only part time, I still have to "seek" a full time position elsewhere but I will still qualify for part of my unemployment. I am nervous about Monday, because I think this is the perfect position for me. We'll see what happens... cross your fingers for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-5252921603211736105?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/5252921603211736105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=5252921603211736105&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5252921603211736105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5252921603211736105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/10/interviews.html' title='Interviews...'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2057019128046864137</id><published>2010-10-13T08:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T08:59:10.466-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's my Lucky Day (yesterday)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Today (yesterday) I noticed a few extra little blessings in my life. I woke up, checked my email... and guess what I got? I got approved for unemployment!!! I am super excited, now I can only apply for the jobs that I would like to get. I don’t have to resort to the “I’m desperate, and need a job NOW” jobs just yet. I will still be looking for a new job, but this way I don’t have to stress out as much about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia; min-height: 10.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia; min-height: 10.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;While we are on the subject of work, I picked up one of my school news papers and started flipping through the classifieds. I ended up applying for a medical assisting position. That is exactly the kind of job that I would like, but because I don’t have my medical assisting certificate, I have to find a place that is willing to train. I’m hoping that I get a call back. (Although I don’t mind not having a job at the moment)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia; min-height: 10.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I was supposed to take an iclicker (it’s pretty much a quiz we take by clicking in on little remote things that we had to buy) quiz in class, but the TA that was supposed to bring the quiz didn’t bring it so they postponed it. I had forgotten my iclicker at home. It was postponed though, so now I will be able to still get those points.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia; min-height: 10.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;There is a cute boy in my D&amp;amp;C class. I have always thought he was pretty cute, but today he wore glasses. I don’t know why, but I have always had a secret thing for glasses. (No, Scott doesn’t wear glasses) The point is, that boy from my class just earned more points in my book. Too bad I have never talked to him... and I doubt I ever will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia; min-height: 10.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My car is washed, waxed, and vacuumed! Sure that wasn’t just luck, but I love having a clean car. It makes me feel so much less stressed, my next project... my bedroom (Imagine scary music here, maybe even a scream if you want to know how I feel about this) My bedroom is in desperate need of a good cleaning, I have had time to do it, but I have decided just to ignore it, well it’s finally really starting to get to me. It must be done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia; min-height: 10.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 9.0px Georgia"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I am still struggling with meeting new people... but at least I am thinking about it more. It’s easier to meet people when you are a) at the library b) at the cougar eat or c) in class. I don’t go to the library unless there is a reason that I need to be on campus later in the day, and need to waste some time. I only go to the cougar eat on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I have a break in the classes. My biggest issue about meeting people in class is I am weird about being ON TIME (Early) to class. That means I don’t get to choose if I sit next to anyone or not. The kind of fill in the spaces around me, and depending on how big the class is, I find that the majority of the time I sit by myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2057019128046864137?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2057019128046864137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2057019128046864137&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2057019128046864137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2057019128046864137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-my-lucky-day-yesterday.html' title='It&apos;s my Lucky Day (yesterday)'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-251608680722010813</id><published>2010-10-10T21:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T23:02:18.807-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Friends</title><content type='html'>I think I am going to try to make a bigger effort to meet people this week. I am only going to commit to a week, because I don't know if making new friends will really be very easy. Pretty much I have been too busy for a social life, and I feel like I have forgotten how to have one. I am afraid that people will think that I am stupid, so I tend to be quiet when I am with a big group of people. Not that I am shy... I just over analyze anything I think about saying, and then it is too late to say. Is that how shy people are? Here's the plan. I am going to talk to at least 3 people every day this week. &lt;div&gt;There is one person that I pass everyday on my way to campus. On the first day of school I said good morning to him as I passed him. I figured, it was the first day of classes, everyone could use a pick me up. The next day he said good morning to me, and it caught me off guard. I have seen him almost every morning since, and every morning we say hi. We always pass in the same spot everyday, and I can see him smile when he sees me approaching. It kinda makes me laugh. How great would it be to have multiple people that you recognize on campus and can smile when you walk pass them. I call this guy the good morning man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is my goal, make new friends. It doesn't even have to be the kind of friends that you hang out with, just the kind that you can recognize, and smile when you see them, and hopefully they smile when they see you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone got my number last week. I eating in the cougar eat when a girl walked by looking for a seat. There really weren't any empty tables around, and there was a seat at my table. I told her that she could sit with me... I was studying, and she kept talking to me. She invited me to go dancing with her and her roommates on Wednesday, and Swing dancing on tuesdays. She got my phone number so she can text me when they can use extra people. That's the first person at school to ask for my number... too bad it was a girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-251608680722010813?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/251608680722010813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=251608680722010813&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/251608680722010813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/251608680722010813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-friends.html' title='New Friends'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3049916018164281221</id><published>2010-10-06T08:03:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T11:26:59.571-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So you think you're my friend...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I went over to one of my friend's houses to see her week old baby. When I left there I thought about how much more I value her friendship over some of the other people I consider my friends. Whats the difference? Here are some of the things that I can think of that makes her friendship mean more.&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;She pushes me to be better, she doesn't tell me that the expectations I set for myself are too high. She encourages me to keep chugging along. Even if she thinks I have too much on my plate. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She knows my standards, and respects me for keeping them. She doesn't try to get me to break my standards.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She never puts me in a position that I don't want to be in.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She doesn't call me just because she needs something. She calls me because she wants to catch up. She knows that she can call me anytime that she needs something but that isn't the only time. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She doesn't expect me to do anything for her that she wouldn't be willing to do for me. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She respects my standards. Even if they vary from her own she doesn't give me a hard time for believing what I believe.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I am studying she asks if I have time to come over and visit. She doesn't guilt me into coming over, or staying over when I tell her I need to go study. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She never calls me late at night to tell me to come over to hang out. She knows that I go to bed early (I'm sure she does too)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It really isn't about how often we talk. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are things that I love about Suzanne. She is a great example to me, and she doesn't try to change me. I hope that my friends see the same qualities in me. Suzanne isn't the only one who I consider a good friend, she's just the one who made me think about it. If you consider yourself my friend do you feel like you have these qualities?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zani - Thanks for letting me come over yesterday. It was good to catch up, and Addelyn is absolutely beautiful. You are/will be an amazing mother!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3049916018164281221?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3049916018164281221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3049916018164281221&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3049916018164281221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3049916018164281221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/10/so-you-think-youre-my-friend.html' title='So you think you&apos;re my friend...'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-6104066649086397509</id><published>2010-09-29T18:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T21:01:08.192-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Study Study Study</title><content type='html'>That's what I do with all of the fee time that I have right now. I just applied for unemployment... I think it would be great if I could have until the end of this semester to have to start looking for a job. This is my train of thought... According to the predicted amount of unemployment I could get I will have a little more than enough to pay all of my bills (my car payment, cell phone, gym pass, insurance). That means I can use my time to study... and in return for studying I will get good grades... and then with good grades I won't have to pay for school because I can get a scholarship... then if I get a scholarship, and then get married I will qualify for pell grants (and SMART grants) I won't have to work because the government is sending me money... Wouldn't it be nice if my train of thought actually happened? Here are the only problems... Scott doesn't get home for another 6.5 months (which is a lot let than the original 24 months :) ) Which means I would have to work a little between the time my unemployment (which hopefully will go through) runs out, and the time we get married (Yes, that is my plan to marry Scott, if you didn't know already). I have worked full time pretty much since I started school so I can do it again, but I am quite enjoying this break from my usual life where every minute was scheduled. So let's cross our fingers that this unemployment stuff comes through and I don't need to immediately get a new job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-6104066649086397509?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/6104066649086397509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=6104066649086397509&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6104066649086397509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6104066649086397509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/09/study-study-study.html' title='Study Study Study'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3732783284329133657</id><published>2010-09-23T21:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T21:37:41.040-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lets think of this as Vacation</title><content type='html'>So I don't know what to do with all of my spare time. I went from having no free time at all to all the free time in the world. Today I went stir crazy, and it is only my first day without a job. Seriously? I could have done something productive, but instead I took a nap (my eyes are puffy and tired from crying yesterday). Lets think of this as a vacation, then maybe I won't get so antsy to do something. I still don't know if it has sunk in that I don't have a job. I am excited to turn over a new leaf and find out where it leads me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3732783284329133657?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3732783284329133657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3732783284329133657&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3732783284329133657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3732783284329133657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/09/lets-think-of-this-as-vacation.html' title='Lets think of this as Vacation'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06228375418009402150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-8057465491236038122</id><published>2010-09-22T20:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T21:20:15.603-06:00</updated><title type='text'>10 ways to know if you have been at BYU for too long</title><content type='html'>10) You find out that one of your friend's been dating a guy for a week and you ask if things are getting between the two of them.&lt;div&gt;9) Some normal, everyday event happens, but it reminds you of a scripture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8) You start using acronyms for everything, even if you aren't talking about the buildings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7) When you see someone who is a little chubby you just assume their pregnant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6) You feel comfortable wearing running shoes with your jeans. (not me but other people)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) You run into kids you used to babysit, because they now go to the same school as you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) You have one of your classes in the same room your ward meets for sacrament meeting &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) You've mastered the ring check, and you no longer need to turn your body to know if guys are wearing a wedding ring on their left hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) You use the term M-R-S degree. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) You feel like you need to find an excuse for why you are 22 and still not married.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who are wondering... I was "let go" today at work... the reason is still a little unclear to me, I was falling below a certain percentile... I think he said 90th percentile, whatever that means. So now I have many more doors open. I didn't really like my job. I can file for unemployment and we'll see what happens. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-8057465491236038122?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/8057465491236038122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=8057465491236038122&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8057465491236038122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8057465491236038122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/09/10-ways-to-know-if-you-have-been-at-byu.html' title='10 ways to know if you have been at BYU for too long'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7987967878482767909</id><published>2010-09-21T21:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T22:05:19.627-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Day Off...</title><content type='html'>I hate that having the day off really doesn't mean anything. Sure I didn't have to go to work today, but I did have to do a bunch of other things. My day was pretty packed today. It started off with a couple hours of class (this is how I start everyday except Sunday), then went straight to my friend's school. She asked me to come in so she could give me a facial (I forgot how nice facials are, I should get them more often) After that I went straight to Jason's shop to get my oil changed. I learned a couple of things. 1) Jason doesn't like working with cars, he just likes making them go fast. 2) He takes CC 3) It's like a real business, not just a hobby 4) His mechanic is really fast at changing the oil (I really didn't know any of this before, I guess I have something to work on) While I'm on the subject, the prices are very competitive with anywhere else you might go to get things fixed on your car. If you're in the Provo/Orem area I would highly recommend going to him, PMP motorsports. Then I drove down to Spanish Fork for my laser appointment (this is supposed to be my last treatment, but we'll see if all the hair is gone. Cross your fingers for me). Then I came home and I played on the computer for a while... It was a lot easier to study when I didn't have a computer to distract me. Okay, okay, my day really wasn't THAT busy, but I wish I was able to relax a little more than I did. Now I really need to go study...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7987967878482767909?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7987967878482767909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7987967878482767909&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7987967878482767909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7987967878482767909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-day-off.html' title='My Day Off...'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7937876558304409987</id><published>2010-09-20T22:41:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T23:01:32.629-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Macbook Pro'/><title type='text'>I've Just Made a New Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;First of all, the timing couldn't be better. My dumb hp computer decided to pretty much end it's life a couple of days ago. He just sits there, unresponsive no matter how many times I click, or reboot he refuses to cooperate. Now I am ready to move on to someone new. In fact, I have already met someone new. Someone who I can rely on, who will help me when I am in a time crunch. Someone that will look up words that I don't know while I am doing homework. Someone that will help me keep in contact with all my friends. I am pretty sure that my new friend will become a much bigger part of my life than I ever imagined. I haven't quite figured out all of the buttons I should and shouldn't push yet, but that's what relationships are all about... right? The only thing missing is a name. I need to find the perfect name for this new friend of mine. Mac? that was my initial thought... but it seems kind of generic doesn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whoever said that money can't buy love might be mistaken. Seriously who can resist to love someone who buys you a Macbook Pro for your birthday. Between this and last years gift of a diamond and sapphire necklace I am beginning to think that you have more than made up for all the birthdays that you have missed while I was growing up. Thank you Daddy, I love it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7937876558304409987?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7937876558304409987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7937876558304409987&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7937876558304409987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7937876558304409987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/09/ive-just-made-new-friend.html' title='I&apos;ve Just Made a New Friend'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-8229177589895252522</id><published>2010-09-19T22:19:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T23:00:16.185-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This is how it goes...</title><content type='html'>I've accepted that I am not a very consistent blogger. Often times I don't have any amusing stories to tell, and when I do I simply don't have the time. Even in this very moment I probably should be doing something other than blogging, but I'm tired and I just don't want to. I think that I might start getting better at the whole blogging thing, the purpose isn't to keep my devoted followers updated on my life. It is more for me, so I have an outlet for my thoughts, and my stresses. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like being alone, and I am not sure if that is normal or not. I tend to keep to myself most of the time. I used to be super outgoing, but lately I just don't want to be. Maybe I'm too busy? At least that's what I keep telling myself. Maybe I am depressed? That's what my doctor tends to lean toward. Maybe I am just normal. Who knows, who is qualified to decide why I am the way I am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like the way my life is... on most days. I wake up early, go to class (most of which I love) then I go to work, come home, study, and then I'm off to bed. I wake up and do the same thing the next day. Mon-Sat that is my life, school and work. I really don't mind, in fact I like the regularity in my schedule. People ask me what I do for fun... I don't really know how to respond to that question anymore. I don't do anything for fun, and I feel like that should bother me but right now it doesn't. I guess you can consider studying fun. I love 3 of my 5 classes. I enjoy the time I spend with my nose in a book studying for them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not sure which class is my favorite, maybe my anatomy class. I am intrigued by how complex the human body is, and how everything fits together so perfectly. I love the fact that I go to BYU and they incorporate the gospel into the subjects. Anatomy is proof that there is a god, our bodies are not a coincidence, they are designed with purpose. I don't think that I would get as much out of this class had I gone to any other university. The other class that competes to be my favorite class is my art history class. Of all the classes I signed up for I thought that this would be the hardest (dullest) class that I would be taking. It's the honors section, and to be honest the first day of class really scared me.  There are only 12 of us in the class, that means if I miss a class someone will notice. I don't plan on missing any classes, but now I know that I can't. Then the second day... I fell in love with the subject. It is fun to watch how far we have come from since 3000 BC in what is important to us, beliefs about gods, and how we want to be remembered. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am having a hard time with my religion classes (New Testament and D&amp;amp;C), it seems like I am missing out on information. Like I should already know that background to what they are teaching. I don't have a clue when it comes to religion. I am learning, which is good, but I hate when I feel like I am the only person who is lost in the entire class. There's nothing like the satisfaction of knowing that you understand the material, and you were prepared for class, I have never felt this way in any of my religion classes... one day maybe I will understand it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For now, I am content with where I am. I don't have a whole lot going on, but is plenty to keep me busy. Who knows where I will be in a couple of months, but I am satisfied with what I am doing right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-8229177589895252522?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/8229177589895252522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=8229177589895252522&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8229177589895252522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8229177589895252522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/09/this-is-how-it-goes.html' title='This is how it goes...'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-9052668861968185211</id><published>2010-07-27T16:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T16:27:46.204-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dos and Don’ts</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I have gone on a ton of dates in the past couple of weeks. Dating really sucks, a few of the dates went well, the others… TERRIBLE. Here are the dos and don’ts if you want to date me. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DO open the car door for me. I think it is cute, and it makes a good first impression. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T open the car door for me when I am getting out… that is just awkward&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T tell me to kiss you. If I wanted to kiss you I probably would. If I don’t than I won't, no matter how long you try to get me to kiss you.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T try to force me to kiss you. I WILL make you leave.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DO show up on time. I just don’t do late, if you have a good reason, or let me know ahead of time that you are running late that is fine, but show up when you say you will. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T call me a little before you were supposed to pick me up and tell me your roommate is taking me on a date instead. I agreed to go on a date with you, not your roommate, I probably would rather just stay at home, it’s not like I’m desperate.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T call me after midnight and tell me you need to see me, and after I say no come over anyway. No means no. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DO tell me I look pretty. But only when you think I do, if you say it too much it gets old. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T tell random people we are engaged. I know you were kidding but it really wasn’t very funny.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T make me unfold my arms so you can hold my hand. Especially if we are on a first date. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T keep scooting closer to me as I inch away. I am inching away on purpose.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DO keep it really relaxed on the first date. If I say yes to a second date, then maybe you have a shot. (Probably not, Scott comes home in about 9 months, but maybe)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T text me a million times if I don’t get back to you right away. I don’t always have my phone on me, and I will get back to you when I can.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T text me at midnight if you want to hang out… Otherwise I will assume that you aren’t just texting me to hang out and chances are I won’t text back. (Richard is the only person this doesn’t apply to)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DON’T kiss me and then avoid me for the next couple days. If you’re not interested, I will be just fine.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Dating is such a funny thing. Some days I hate it, some days I enjoy it. Some guys are retarded… need I say more?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-9052668861968185211?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/9052668861968185211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=9052668861968185211&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/9052668861968185211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/9052668861968185211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/07/dos-and-donts.html' title='Dos and Don’ts'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-6789944284558644852</id><published>2010-06-11T23:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T23:48:33.743-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One of the calls I hate getting.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It isn’t anything serious, nobody is in trouble, and nobody got hurt. I got a phone call today from one of those people that nobody likes to get a call from. My Bishop! I already have a calling so that crosses one thing off the list of why a bishop would call me. I am in the the Relief Society presidency, so maybe he knows of someone who could use my help, or needs a friend or something. I wouldn’t have minded if he was giving me a personal call to remind me about our “extra relief society meeting” aka enrichment activity tomorrow. I even hoped that he would ask me to make the Sacrament programs for Sunday. All those would have been simple. I didn’t get so lucky this time. I get to give a talk on Sunday, and I would like to thank my dear bishop for the short notice he gave me. I’m not very good at giving talks. In fact, I am terrible at giving talks. The last one I gave was pretty much copied from someone’s blog I follow, a couple tweaks here and there and I had a witty and entertaining talk to give. I don’t think any of the blogs I follow have anything written about the Sacrament and Why we take it, but if you’re reading this, and you know of someone who has written on their blog about it (and wouldn’t mind if I stole it) let me know. Any ideas would help, I really hate writing talks. I’m not very funny, entertaining, or knowledgeable when in comes to gospel topics. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-6789944284558644852?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/6789944284558644852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=6789944284558644852&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6789944284558644852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6789944284558644852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/06/one-of-calls-i-hate-getting.html' title='One of the calls I hate getting.'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-6358155705630632216</id><published>2010-06-10T23:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T23:48:59.657-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumped….</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So this is how this feels…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;For any of you that actually know anything about me, this has nothing to do with Scott. Me and him are doing great, only problem is that he is on the other side of the world. If he dumped me, I would probably still be in bed crying my eyes out.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Here’s the down low, I have been dating a guy for a month and a half or something&amp;#160; (I haven’t really been keeping track) Well, tonight something happened that has never happed to me before. I got dumped. That’s right, I’ve never been dumped before. I was always the person dumping, not the dumped. He knew just as well as I did that it wasn’t really going anywhere. But for some reason I was affected a little differently than I thought I would be by this event. I have been thinking about breaking up with him for a while, but I didn’t want to hurt him, and I still wanted to be friends. I figure, there is no harm in just hanging out with him for a while longer. I am a little sad. I don’t know if it is because I know subconsciously that I will miss having someone around when I get home, or maybe I am just upset that it ruins my perfect record of never being dumped. Either way I just feel a little sick to my stomach about it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Good News… 1) One of my really good friends from High School gets back from his mission in about a month! :) Then I will have someone to hang out with again. 2) There is only 10 months until Scott gets home! I just love that boy, and 10 months is still super far away, but it’s better than 24 months. 3) I sit next to this really cute guy at work, maybe I can become better friends with him!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-6358155705630632216?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/6358155705630632216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=6358155705630632216&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6358155705630632216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6358155705630632216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/06/dumped.html' title='Dumped….'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1089574895453905725</id><published>2010-04-30T09:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T09:32:34.677-06:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Gallon down</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This morning&amp;#160; I decided to give blood… that’s right, every 8 weeks I go in to give blood. There were a couple year long periods that I couldn’t do it. But now I am all good, no new tattoos, and no going to Africa in the last year. I have given blood lots of times before, and I laugh when the person taking the blood keeps asking me if I’m okay. Lets be honest, if needles scared me I don’t think I would be planning on going into the medical field. It’s not like it hurts to give blood, and it’s not like I act like bothers me. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The good part about it… I get to wear this cute pink bandage for the next 5 hours.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S9r4DKcN-qI/AAAAAAAAAPY/T15mEjNYOtM/s1600-h/IMG_0243%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0243" border="0" alt="IMG_0243" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S9r4DlfQzGI/AAAAAAAAAPc/1a7mT4TaTdU/IMG_0243_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’ve even given enough blood to get this little pin… 1 gallon, which means I have given 8 units of blood. Not that 8 units is very impressive, but it’s the first landmark. Pretty exciting.&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S9r4EKlgQUI/AAAAAAAAAPg/h2jyUdzfjzg/s1600-h/IMG_0249%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0249" border="0" alt="IMG_0249" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S9r4EQDrNgI/AAAAAAAAAPk/W6c8kCcDWnw/IMG_0249_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1089574895453905725?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1089574895453905725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1089574895453905725&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1089574895453905725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1089574895453905725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/04/1-gallon-down.html' title='1 Gallon down'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S9r4DlfQzGI/AAAAAAAAAPc/1a7mT4TaTdU/s72-c/IMG_0243_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3884094795478675624</id><published>2010-04-30T00:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T00:47:36.765-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating… ugh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Having Friends makes me happy, but dating just stresses me out. Going out on “dates” with friends is easy, super fun, and enjoyable. Most of them have known me long enough to understand that I have a missionary, and I am not looking for anything too serious right now. I’m fine with dating, but I want to wait for Scott to get back before I make any decisions. I have been out with way to many guys in the last week and a half. 3 of them I have been friends with for a while, and I love hanging out with any of them... One in particular that I have a really good time with. Then the other 2 were just kind of random that asked me out almost the first time we met. I just don’t know how to act…&amp;quot;No I don’t really want to hold you hand”, “Ummm… you realize you aren’t the only guy I’m dating… right?” Seriously… can’t I just be friends with all these people? I hate being mean, I want a social life, but I am just out there to have fun right now, don’t want anything serious. 3 of 5 of them kissed me… all I have to say is “Come on Boys, learn how know when a girl doesn’t really want a kiss” I guess I am just that lovable. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3884094795478675624?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3884094795478675624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3884094795478675624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3884094795478675624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3884094795478675624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/04/dating-ugh.html' title='Dating… ugh!'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7551495554538486898</id><published>2010-04-28T23:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T23:51:16.083-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean Clean Clean…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I got off work a little early today, so I decided to clean up a little. I wish I would have taken a before picture, but my basement is finally starting to look good. I did a lot to change the way it looked… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt; I moved the painting from my bedroom out to the living room, nobody really ever goes in my room. I probably wouldn’t let them. That is the next room on my list of places to clean. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt; I bought a black curtain to go over the window behind the couch. I used to have a bright pink blanket tacked to the wall to block out the light. In reality, it blocked out some light but kind of just made the whole room look pink while the sun was out. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I brought out my night stand from my bedroom, it makes a cute end table for the couch. I wasn’t really using it in my room anyway. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I cleaned the carpets. Now they look so much better than they did before.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I’ve had the black rug for a while now, but I can place it so much better now that I am not trying to strategically hide stains in the carpet. &lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m pretty excited. It looks pretty cute down here now! I just need a couple more things to finish the other half of the room. &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S9keTzXcCCI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/zIJ4FtSCpjU/s1600-h/IMG_0235%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0235" border="0" alt="IMG_0235" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S9keUlek9JI/AAAAAAAAAPU/JHa-6bwo0rc/IMG_0235_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="396" height="308" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7551495554538486898?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7551495554538486898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7551495554538486898&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7551495554538486898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7551495554538486898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/04/clean-clean-clean.html' title='Clean Clean Clean…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S9keUlek9JI/AAAAAAAAAPU/JHa-6bwo0rc/s72-c/IMG_0235_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-605049865122439183</id><published>2010-04-27T22:04:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T22:04:37.813-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to blog again?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Lessons that I have learned in the past month or so:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Steve (the guy my mom is ALWAYS hanging out with) shouldn’t be allowed to get our mail… he thinks it is funny to my letters from Scott. FYI it isn’t funny… at all. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Dating is tiring. I have been on quite a few dates in the past couple weeks. I have fun, but boy is it tiring. Sometimes it is like an interrogation. No I’m not really dating anyone. I don’t really plan on it either. I still haven’t met someone who I like more than Scott. (Who by the way has less than a year left :)…) &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;My civic gets much better gas mileage than my Jetta did. With the gas prices going up again it makes a big difference.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;People like me for me… kinda weird. I have times where I like to have fun and go a little crazy… and people still like me. They might even like me more because I don’t act like I am constantly trying to make a good impression on people. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I like being crazy, spontaneous, fun… With school and work I almost forgot that things outside of that existed. It is nice to go out every once in a while and break the chain of monotony. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I act older than I am… I have been told this many times in the last couple of weeks. I hope it is meant as a good thing.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I LOVE foot rubs… I never really liked people touching my feet… but it turns out if they want to rub them than it is totally worth it. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Running makes you lose weight… No, I wasn’t really trying to lose weight, nor do I feel the need to lose it, but it’s happening. Which is weird because when I run I eat more. So shouldn’t the extra calories + exercise balance out?&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Don’t drink milk before going running… ugh! worst feeling in the world. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I made it a full year with Scott being gone… I guess I’m not going to die. It just feels like it sometime. I still miss him like crazy.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m sure there are a lot more, but this will do for right now.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-605049865122439183?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/605049865122439183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=605049865122439183&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/605049865122439183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/605049865122439183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/04/time-to-blog-again.html' title='Time to blog again?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2732721793180167191</id><published>2010-03-26T22:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T22:09:31.742-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Update on me:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This isn’t a very interesting topic. I do the same thing everyday, day after day. Not much new happens, the worst part of my week is taking tests… I swear I have to take another test almost every week. The best part of my week is when I get a letter from Scott. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I guess I do have something to tell. About a month ago I went to the doctor, he suggested that I go get an EKG. About a week after I got it the doctors office called to let me know that I needed to make an appointment with a Cardiologist because my EKG came back abnormal. That’s all they would tell me, so I scheduled an appointment with the Cardiologist. Yesterday I went in, and he took a look at the EKG, and said, “This is a totally normal EKG, it doesn’t look like there is any problem” Awesome, I spent almost a month thinking there was something wrong with my heart… I am a little relieved to know that my EKG was normal, they did a couple other tests just to make sure everything is okay, and I will find out the results soon. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This weekend is going to be my first weekend not having a date in a little over a month. I have mixed feelings about it. I like getting out and doing stuff, it isn’t necessarily the company, it is just getting out of my routine that I like. Don’t get me wrong, there are certain guys I would rather go out with, but I miss Scott. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Update on my Mom:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;She is still dating Steve, and she never comes home anymore. She comes to me for advice on what to where and whether or not she should text him. It is kind of weird being the person that people go to for advice (by people I mean people who are older than me) She seems happy to have somebody, and she keeps saying that she forgot how fun it is to date. Things are going well, she’s up in Park City with him and his kids tonight. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Update on Scott:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;He’s doing great! He’s still amazing! I got a letter/tape from him today. I can’t even explain how much I miss him. It’s hard having him gone. But he hasn’t missed a week yet, I get a letter every single week and packages on special occasion. He says it is finally starting to warm up in Japan, and is looking forward to getting away from the cold. I bet he won’t be saying that when he is having to go out in the heat of summer. It’s almost been a year… Can you believe that? It’s hard to describe, but time goes by so fast, but so slow at the same time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, that’s an update on what is going on in my life at the moment. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2732721793180167191?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2732721793180167191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2732721793180167191&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2732721793180167191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2732721793180167191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/03/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3786631040332435620</id><published>2010-03-08T10:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T10:48:33.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Month Later and a lot has been going on</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;1) I traded in my Jetta, and got myself a little blue Honda civic. I am so glad to be out of my old car. My payment stayed about the same, but this time it isn’t a lease. I am excited to finally be buying a car… and all on my own. Look how big and independent I am getting.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;2) Birthdays Galore. My Mom’s Birthday, Jason’s Birthday, Scott’s Birthday, and Jocelynn’s Birthday.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Dinner for Jason and my Mom&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style="padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: none; padding-top: 0px" id="scid:66721397-FF69-4ca6-AEC4-17E6B3208830:b9722e05-474f-471b-8c4b-71655650dd19" class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent"&gt;&lt;a style="border:0px" href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!253&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px" alt="View Mom's Birthday" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4Q9t3IKI/AAAAAAAAAOM/XUwtiZVj_iU/InlineRepresentationc51ceceb-7bea-4b8c-b567-c9a24090e01c.jpg?imgmax=800" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="width:340px;text-align:right;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!253&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;View Full Album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4RjVP9rI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/Gvhc7-_zlJc/s1600-h/IMG_0199%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0199" border="0" alt="IMG_0199" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4SKc-gFI/AAAAAAAAAOU/7PUKB_RPYDs/IMG_0199_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Jocelynn’s Birthday Dinner.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;3)Hanging out with Friends… I haven’t done that in a long time!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4SiBSlxI/AAAAAAAAAOY/WiPdiaUQPO4/s1600-h/IMG_0103%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0103" border="0" alt="IMG_0103" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4TF6rcRI/AAAAAAAAAOc/0tTmLQr2oyQ/IMG_0103_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4TgXwimI/AAAAAAAAAOg/PWHP26RdmW8/s1600-h/IMG_0053%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0053" border="0" alt="IMG_0053" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4UUXB80I/AAAAAAAAAOk/N_ai2anT2AY/IMG_0053_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;4)&amp;#160; Visiting Bryce in the hospital. He isn’t in the hospital anymore, but he cracks me up.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4U79--tI/AAAAAAAAAOo/kF1uKpkUCNo/s1600-h/IMG_0188%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0188" border="0" alt="IMG_0188" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4VSsgRJI/AAAAAAAAAOs/7unE7Jx7Eac/IMG_0188_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4V9d48rI/AAAAAAAAAOw/w287vyBNBhw/s1600-h/IMG_0191%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0191" border="0" alt="IMG_0191" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4WugxS1I/AAAAAAAAAO0/TJ-p0Bdr4lA/IMG_0191_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4XHN-RPI/AAAAAAAAAO4/qN8muJFjfZA/s1600-h/IMG_0169%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0169" border="0" alt="IMG_0169" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4YJ6g2LI/AAAAAAAAAO8/nljNXfQj6tw/IMG_0169_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4ZUEhTkI/AAAAAAAAAPA/ErGmrgth__U/s1600-h/IMG_0180%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0180" border="0" alt="IMG_0180" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4aH-Y-VI/AAAAAAAAAPE/q9OOS6DvZ6Y/IMG_0180_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;5) Timpview Basket ball game with Chase. I hardly get to see my little brothers these days. It was good to get out and hand out with Chase for a while. He taught me one thing… I NEVER want to have kids. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4az9hRhI/AAAAAAAAAPI/N5PGdBIvTDo/s1600-h/IMG_0194%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0194" border="0" alt="IMG_0194" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4b9e9LtI/AAAAAAAAAPM/kz9Lk07FZOM/IMG_0194_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;6) My mom started dating again. One of her friends invited her and this guy over for dinner a couple weeks ago. Then just last week he asked her to go out on Tuesday, Wednesday they went to lunch, and Thursday they went out again. I am super excited for her to start dating again. I have some mixed feelings about it though. I used to come home and watch a movie or a show with my mom, now she doesn’t even get home until after I go to bed. I kinda miss her.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;7)I had a friend get divorced, a friend get married, and a friend try to get pregnant… (still don’t know if she is or not). I can’t believe how much has happened.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;8) I got 2 packages from Scott, he’s doing great. He was just asked to be trainer and he is kind of nervous about it. He’s pretty cute, I like him.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;9) I haven’t quit my job yet… I don’t know if I want to. I keep going back and forth on the subject. It scares me to have to possibly get new job.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3786631040332435620?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3786631040332435620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3786631040332435620&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3786631040332435620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3786631040332435620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/03/month-later-and-lot-has-been-going-on.html' title='A Month Later and a lot has been going on'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S5U4Q9t3IKI/AAAAAAAAAOM/XUwtiZVj_iU/s72-c/InlineRepresentationc51ceceb-7bea-4b8c-b567-c9a24090e01c.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7006966768946612500</id><published>2010-02-05T20:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T20:50:07.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I left work today with a smile… what’s up with that?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This week has been a tough week. I can’t even tell you how many times I was pulled into an office, yelled at, and I left crying. I can’t handle the stress of school, and then go to work just to be yelled at. Then today I got pulled into another meeting. The first question. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Do you know what I called you into my office to talk to you about.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I had no idea, I figured it had something to do with everything else I had been yelled at for earlier in the week. No, he wanted to see what was going on. It wasn’t like me to be constantly taken into one of the offices and getting yelled at. Then we resolved a lot of things. Finally things are moving in a positive direction… cross your fingers that they keep going this way. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7006966768946612500?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7006966768946612500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7006966768946612500&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7006966768946612500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7006966768946612500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-left-work-today-with-smile-whats-up.html' title='I left work today with a smile… what’s up with that?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-5508485763202427485</id><published>2010-02-02T23:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T23:40:32.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pros and Cons</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;We will start with the Cons about my day…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;I got yelled at today at work&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I had to wake up early&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I had to take a Calc exam&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I cried at work&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;It is freezing outside&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pros&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;I took a Calc test today… it will be a couple weeks before another one.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I got 90% on my Calc test… I took a picture, but it was blurry&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I had one lady just rave about how nice I am on the phone&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I got a package from Scott&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;The dryer is fixed&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I got to watch Veronica Mars&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am done for the night, which means I can go to bed.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I was watching a video Scott sent home and he is speaking Japanese and I could pick out a couple words… which I think is a good thing&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The pros out way the cons. Life is still good. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-5508485763202427485?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/5508485763202427485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=5508485763202427485&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5508485763202427485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5508485763202427485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/02/pros-and-cons.html' title='Pros and Cons'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-4069462654538979060</id><published>2010-02-02T00:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T00:14:07.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Bryce came over on Sunday (yesterday) he was sitting on my love sac and we started taking pictures… here are a few. &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQiIhtdaI/AAAAAAAAAMw/-E02gXgn0FA/s1600-h/IMG_0059%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0059" border="0" alt="IMG_0059" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQjPbaBmI/AAAAAAAAAM0/4-zxxRIfw3g/IMG_0059_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQjuqWm-I/AAAAAAAAAM4/YYVChVGMgxs/s1600-h/IMG_0057%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0057" border="0" alt="IMG_0057" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQkqfelDI/AAAAAAAAAM8/i3cCYsH7x5o/IMG_0057_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQlPyRvII/AAAAAAAAANA/ezpp1BpJlIM/s1600-h/IMG_0063%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0063" border="0" alt="IMG_0063" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQl1mPT8I/AAAAAAAAANE/DTqL_-nOluU/IMG_0063_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQmir2cwI/AAAAAAAAANI/GFYy_qCcF3g/s1600-h/IMG_0097%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0097" border="0" alt="IMG_0097" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQnTbJk5I/AAAAAAAAANM/gDkluNiW6H0/IMG_0097_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQn5pzJyI/AAAAAAAAANQ/hGOH2-xPj80/s1600-h/IMG_0066%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0066" border="0" alt="IMG_0066" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQoV3yziI/AAAAAAAAANU/MID1jeI4fO0/IMG_0066_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQpODW4RI/AAAAAAAAANY/msiEuPR9_1A/s1600-h/IMG_0069%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0069" border="0" alt="IMG_0069" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQppgh3xI/AAAAAAAAANc/1Bo5XkUgFIQ/IMG_0069_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQqcOvrlI/AAAAAAAAANg/PvtZjRv8Xy8/s1600-h/IMG_0079%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0079" border="0" alt="IMG_0079" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQq7mvi0I/AAAAAAAAANk/XMQbc2VBlNE/IMG_0079_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQrZmE2gI/AAAAAAAAANo/F4DZEs8EL4I/s1600-h/IMG_0085%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0085" border="0" alt="IMG_0085" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQr5dOdjI/AAAAAAAAANs/JFcB8yhTJOE/IMG_0085_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQsrs5xnI/AAAAAAAAANw/Q9W1xl4ilFQ/s1600-h/IMG_0087%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0087" border="0" alt="IMG_0087" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQtacA81I/AAAAAAAAAN0/B3D53wOCAx4/IMG_0087_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQt5hJrQI/AAAAAAAAAN4/mTDwkVRS1C0/s1600-h/IMG_0090%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0090" border="0" alt="IMG_0090" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQus1WOEI/AAAAAAAAAN8/fxMzm8sKjqs/IMG_0090_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQvKm8o0I/AAAAAAAAAOA/-Kmdz4ZBvzM/s1600-h/IMG_0062%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0062" border="0" alt="IMG_0062" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQvYA0yvI/AAAAAAAAAOE/n4wHF9-mNyk/IMG_0062_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We have some pretty good times! Yep, that’s my family minus Jason, Joce, The Boys and my dad.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-4069462654538979060?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/4069462654538979060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=4069462654538979060&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4069462654538979060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4069462654538979060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/02/sunday-pictures.html' title='Sunday Pictures'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S2fQjPbaBmI/AAAAAAAAAM0/4-zxxRIfw3g/s72-c/IMG_0059_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2807724403890901669</id><published>2010-01-31T23:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T23:46:12.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I miss living in an apartment</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Today I was at ward prayer, and we do something called “nice notes” You can write a note to someone in the ward and then it gets delivered to them. Then today someone said, I would write you a note, but you don’t live here… Hmmm… Thanks? I just don’t fit in very well. First of all, I don’t really go out of my way to meet new people. Second of all I live outside of the apartment complex, so I guess that makes me an outsider. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I am a little jealous, not that I want to have a social life, but I do like to fit in. I loved freshman year living in apartments. I like when people know who I am, I like when people like me. Just not enough to give up my free rent, and good grades. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2807724403890901669?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2807724403890901669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2807724403890901669&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2807724403890901669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2807724403890901669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/sometimes-i-miss-living-in-apartment.html' title='Sometimes I miss living in an apartment'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7844686556940450563</id><published>2010-01-31T00:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T00:10:37.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Nothing Too Eventful…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Today was a pretty long day. I took a test, and then I spent most of my time up in Salt Lake with a friend. You know nothing too eventful. I also filed my taxes. I love it when it says I am going to get a pretty big return. I think I know exactly what I want the return to go towards. I know it’s past midnight… so does that mean I missed a day on my blog? or does the day count from when I wake up to when I go to bed?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7844686556940450563?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7844686556940450563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7844686556940450563&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7844686556940450563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7844686556940450563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/still-nothing-too-eventful.html' title='Still Nothing Too Eventful…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2072807707754420501</id><published>2010-01-29T22:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T22:10:59.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little short on time</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;First of all I don’t have anything fun or exciting to talk about, second of all I need to study. I have my first Molecular Biology Test tomorrow. Wish me luck, tomorrow is going to be a long day. Sorry so short, maybe something eventful will happen tomorrow.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2072807707754420501?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2072807707754420501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2072807707754420501&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2072807707754420501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2072807707754420501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/little-short-on-time.html' title='A little short on time'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-5924736117188090654</id><published>2010-01-28T23:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T23:02:42.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I’ll be the first to admit that I’m scared</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;I have a fear of being handicapped and not having anyone tell me that I am.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid that I am going to be hit by someone riding a bike on campus.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid that I can’t do everything that I want to do.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid of what others think of me.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid of saying something stupid in front of a group of people so I stay pretty much to myself.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I don’t know if I am afraid of heights, but I certainly don’t like them&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid of letting people down.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid to be late… if I am late to class, or church then I usually won’t go because I hate it so much.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid of the future.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;High expectations scare me to death&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Not being perfect scares me, (I know that nobody is, but I don’t want other people to know that I’m not)&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid of losing my job. (although I secretly want to)&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am afraid of getting bad grades.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But fear is what drives me… because I fear failure it makes me work that much harder so that I don’t fail. I just cross my fingers that my fear is enough to make me successful. If that even makes sense. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-5924736117188090654?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/5924736117188090654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=5924736117188090654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5924736117188090654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5924736117188090654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/ill-be-first-to-admit-that-im-scared.html' title='I’ll be the first to admit that I’m scared'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2354629183243085391</id><published>2010-01-27T21:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T21:31:50.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How do they do it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It has only been 27 days and I am out of stories for my blog. I don’t know how anybody does the whole blogging daily thing. Maybe it helps that the people that do have things to write about everyday, have a life. You know, a family, kids, something more than school and work. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Thoughts about my life: Lets see, I have two midterms this week. I had another boy introduce himself and talk to me during class. It is freezing outside. I want to learn more about computer programs. I don’t like having a 35 minute commute to work. I don’t like my hair. I like feeling smart. I am still trying to figure out what to do about work. I am sad that the person I sit next to at work is quitting soon. I am supposed to be training for that relay, but haven’t been (it’s too cold). I think Japanese is kind of fun. Flakey people drive me insane. Wow, I have a boring life… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2354629183243085391?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2354629183243085391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2354629183243085391&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2354629183243085391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2354629183243085391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/how-do-they-do-it.html' title='How do they do it.'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-562149817352115630</id><published>2010-01-26T22:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T22:29:47.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Times</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The other day I ran into one of my roommates from freshman year. I love that girl! She recently just got married, and I have only seen her once or twice since the wedding reception. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;She’s so cute, I asked her what is new in her life and she said that she loves being a wife. She gets to clean and do laundry… you know what every good wife does. The funny thing is she is perfect for that role. I am pretty sure she was raised to be a homemaker. I am going to make a prediction, I bet she will be pregnant by the time fall semester rolls around. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I miss the days living at Wyview. Seriously, I think freshman year was one of my favorite times. I’m still young and I have plenty more times ahead of me, but I miss being a crazy, carefree, fun, freshman. Those were the days…&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_ND0ZdsRI/AAAAAAAAAK8/q_cvKv3mub0/s1600-h/P1010538%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="P1010538" border="0" alt="P1010538" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NEFGa5ZI/AAAAAAAAALA/ApcjCbQXHQg/P1010538_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_PRaZAVXI/AAAAAAAAAMg/f6hHHmDKlmY/s1600-h/the%20three%20of%20us%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="the three of us" border="0" alt="the three of us" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_PR5DLqFI/AAAAAAAAAMk/FUmbnfzdjZg/the%20three%20of%20us_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Just hanging out with Amelia and Zani&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div style="padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; float: none; padding-top: 0px" id="scid:66721397-FF69-4ca6-AEC4-17E6B3208830:ae665403-6f36-4945-b7a8-da0437e5514b" class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent"&gt;&lt;a style="border:0px" href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!246&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px" alt="View Pranks" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NEoI0UBI/AAAAAAAAALE/fx6rXguDLno/InlineRepresentation3c17e529-e44c-4a3c-84c5-78c52fa3eeeb.jpg?imgmax=800" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="width:340px;text-align:right;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!246&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;View Full Album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Prank War…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NFNgdiAI/AAAAAAAAALI/LsBz1I7suAA/s1600-h/parties%20020%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="parties 020" border="0" alt="parties 020" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NFSB7h7I/AAAAAAAAALM/pFJzE7orfmo/parties%20020_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="157" height="120" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NF3_kurI/AAAAAAAAALQ/f4ndXpNMosg/s1600-h/parties%20017%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="parties 017" border="0" alt="parties 017" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NGRAMiGI/AAAAAAAAALU/Zq8TeznzB_k/parties%20017_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="154" height="121" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sleepovers…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NGvwv7RI/AAAAAAAAALY/8Y9EF1AQxCk/s1600-h/thanksgiving%20015%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="thanksgiving 015" border="0" alt="thanksgiving 015" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NHMxPqsI/AAAAAAAAALc/L-K-dXsqhb8/thanksgiving%20015_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My daily dose of pancakes…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NHqOTxZI/AAAAAAAAALg/fkr00Vv_zbk/s1600-h/football%20game%20012%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="football game 012" border="0" alt="football game 012" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NILmwSeI/AAAAAAAAALk/yocdBympUBM/football%20game%20012_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Football games&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NITlaVTI/AAAAAAAAALo/ux32stbH8KA/s1600-h/fun%20005%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="fun 005" border="0" alt="fun 005" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NI8oiBXI/AAAAAAAAALs/rKRMjfe89Wo/fun%20005_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NJU6lwaI/AAAAAAAAALw/uDEYyDEUYVA/s1600-h/fun%20006%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="fun 006" border="0" alt="fun 006" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NJmzgPQI/AAAAAAAAAL0/gMQ551lI0RU/fun%20006_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Amber Allie time&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NKMb2MSI/AAAAAAAAAL4/aQHMZ_L7Fqo/s1600-h/me%20027%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="me 027" border="0" alt="me 027" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NKsx4XVI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ZDVx9afKLz8/me%20027_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="137" height="179" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NLJOG89I/AAAAAAAAAMA/_OQVqbt1C8k/s1600-h/me%20026%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="me 026" border="0" alt="me 026" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NLeFrxgI/AAAAAAAAAME/lKa8h5TDneg/me%20026_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="158" height="121" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Bazookies!!!! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NLzu6YvI/AAAAAAAAAMI/ZApit1KtfyA/s1600-h/thanksgiving%20048%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="thanksgiving 048" border="0" alt="thanksgiving 048" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NMCfEQsI/AAAAAAAAAMM/xQ2PtlaOTmQ/thanksgiving%20048_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="200" height="153" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NMl14kHI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/4JkC0fOTqLU/s1600-h/thanksgiving%20047%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="thanksgiving 047" border="0" alt="thanksgiving 047" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NNEKIufI/AAAAAAAAAMU/7mFZ-VbGmOo/thanksgiving%20047_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="154" height="202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Old Boy Friends…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NNheGQRI/AAAAAAAAAMY/5RsixuT57ZM/s1600-h/Real%20People%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="Real People" border="0" alt="Real People" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NOKv1u2I/AAAAAAAAAMc/ts6O_D5RVCc/Real%20People_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="197" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The comic that I never finished… maybe one of these days. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_PSMvwDJI/AAAAAAAAAMo/yYinrgfZ_1s/s1600-h/scottling%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="scottling" border="0" alt="scottling" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_PSsLaslI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Ylp2Ca7ZAnI/scottling_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="192" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And of course Scott!&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Freshman was a good year!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-562149817352115630?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/562149817352115630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=562149817352115630&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/562149817352115630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/562149817352115630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-times.html' title='Good Times'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S1_NEFGa5ZI/AAAAAAAAALA/ApcjCbQXHQg/s72-c/P1010538_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7336454027497647737</id><published>2010-01-25T23:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T23:53:18.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arts and Crafts</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I need to get a package out to Scott sometime next week. I hate having to plan things weeks in advance so that he will get them in time. There’s Valentines day (February 14th) and Scotts Birthday (February 17th) It’s nice that I can cram two holidays into one. Sending packages to Japan isn’t very cheap, and I don’t have a lot of money. This is what I started today for his package. &lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S16RWMmgJJI/AAAAAAAAAKs/C5XSi6BUHQo/s1600-h/IMG_0037%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0037" border="0" alt="IMG_0037" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S16RWhV6qAI/AAAAAAAAAKw/xq204vdAIIs/IMG_0037_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It’s a canister that I decorated. I think it’s pretty cute… but the best part is what I am putting in it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S16RWzTq-MI/AAAAAAAAAK0/hIBEiq76j9Q/s1600-h/IMG_0036%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0036" border="0" alt="IMG_0036" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S16RXUE4dsI/AAAAAAAAAK4/KEuZoPfc-yc/IMG_0036_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Little “love notes”, they are mostly just funny little stories and inside jokes, but I thought it was a cute idea… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m always on the look out for more ideas on what to send Scott. So if you have any ideas let me know. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7336454027497647737?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7336454027497647737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7336454027497647737&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7336454027497647737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7336454027497647737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/arts-and-crafts.html' title='Arts and Crafts'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S16RWhV6qAI/AAAAAAAAAKw/xq204vdAIIs/s72-c/IMG_0037_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3023967605382254832</id><published>2010-01-24T23:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T23:52:06.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Relaxing Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I didn’t get a nap in like I was hoping for, but my day wasn’t too bad today. I updated most of the ward directory, and even made some flyers for the ward party coming up. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I hate to admit it, but I am kind of anti social these days. I went to ward prayer and there was a mix and mingle after. I don’t think that I was made to mingle. I just don’t like it very much. It wasn’t too bad, I didn’t really meet anyone new. Maybe I should work on the whole having a social life thing. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This weeks social goals:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Go to a movie with Jessica like I promised&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Go to dinner with Sheyene, apparently she has lots to update me on.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Get together with Kalie… I guess she has a new guy named David that she needs to tell me about.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I think that it enough social interaction for a week. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3023967605382254832?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3023967605382254832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3023967605382254832&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3023967605382254832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3023967605382254832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-relaxing-sunday.html' title='My Relaxing Sunday'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3275144522139316221</id><published>2010-01-23T20:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T20:58:54.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday is a special day</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Saturdays are my favorite day of the week. Here’s why;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol&gt;   &lt;li&gt;I don’t have school&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I don’t have work&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can sleep in if I really want to&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can do laundry, there’s nothing like having clean clothes&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can get all my homework done&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can relax, and watch TV&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can get everything cleaned up&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can not put make up on&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I don’t have to shower and do my hair&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can stay in pajamas all day&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can get ready for Sunday&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I can go to bed early&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Today was a GREAT day. I finished up my paper that is due next week, I got another 100% on a Molecular Biology quiz, I finished my math that is due on Tuesday, and I even managed to watch a little Veronica Mars. I also got a hair cut… I didn’t take a before photo, but I will have to take some pictures of myself tomorrow (after I get ready). My family doesn’t think there is much of a difference, but I cut off about 3 inches and I definitely can feel the difference. I like this whole not doing homework on Sundays thing… Now tomorrow will be easy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3275144522139316221?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3275144522139316221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3275144522139316221&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3275144522139316221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3275144522139316221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/saturday-is-special-day.html' title='Saturday is a special day'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-5467695897257752899</id><published>2010-01-22T20:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T20:10:32.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scott’s Christmas Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Nothing is happening in my life, but I think that this video is ridiculous. You’ll have to let me know what you think. This is what Scott ate for Dinner this Christmas. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://japansapporomission.blogspot.com/search/label/Elders%20eating%20a%20Christmas%20dinner" target="_blank"&gt;Click here&lt;/a&gt; for the video.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;ps. isn’t he cute? Although the video is somewhat disturbing?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-5467695897257752899?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/5467695897257752899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=5467695897257752899&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5467695897257752899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5467695897257752899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/scotts-christmas-dinner.html' title='Scott’s Christmas Dinner'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-5457704080528842088</id><published>2010-01-21T22:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T22:55:48.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow… It’s a love hate relationship</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My classes start at 8:00 in the morning. Which isn’t too early, but it’s early enough that it hasn’t warmed up too much. It is freezing in the morning… I am not too fond of the cold (I think that it is because I grew up in Arizona) but after a certain amount of time you start to get used to the weather. I never thought I would say it, but 30 degrees isn’t too bad after you get used to it. This morning was a new experience for me. It was snowing, and I actually enjoyed it. Snow is beautiful, it’s white, and clean (I don’t know how clean it actually is, but it looks clean) There is just something refreshing about it. Then I get into my car, and start driving, any love that I had for the snow is gone. I hate driving in the snow. Also, I wouldn’t try wearing a pair of shoes you haven’t worn in a couple of years in the snow, chances are if they are old then they don’t keep your feet dry. Wet feet in the snow is not a good thing. I do love the way snow looks though.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-5457704080528842088?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/5457704080528842088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=5457704080528842088&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5457704080528842088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5457704080528842088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/snow-its-love-hate-relationship.html' title='Snow… It’s a love hate relationship'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2193462410876743472</id><published>2010-01-20T23:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T23:03:33.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You might think I’m stupid.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I promise that I’m not stupid. I don’t laugh, not because I don’t get the joke, but because I don’t think it is funny. I promise I am not a dumb person. Yes, I knew the answers to the questions you were asking me, but I acted like I didn’t just so you would stop talking… I’m a brat. I don’t think I am better than anyone else, but sometimes I get really bugged by stupid people. They laugh at stupid things that aren’t funny, they ask questions about things they probably should have learned in elementary school. Sometimes they catch me in a good mood and I will throw out a pity laugh, or even explain a couple concepts. But most of the time I just get annoyed. I should probably work on that. One of these days I am going to have to ask my neighbor a question and I am sure they will have the same thoughts run through their head. For the most part, I’m not stupid. At least I don’t think I’m stupid. Just thought I would clear up any misconceptions about me. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2193462410876743472?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2193462410876743472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2193462410876743472&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2193462410876743472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2193462410876743472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/you-might-think-im-stupid.html' title='You might think I’m stupid.'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-245401902766582494</id><published>2010-01-19T23:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T23:54:39.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Last Saturday was the deadline to take a pretest for my calculus class. It counts for 3 homework assignments. I totally forgot to take it. I have no good excuses, it just completely slipped my mind. I can’t believe that I forgot to take it! I have been beating myself up over forgetting since I realized I am retarded. I kept thinking maybe I will email the professor and he will make a exception for me. If I was going to do that I would have to come up with a really good excuse for why I didn’t take it in time. Or I could just tell the truth and say I totally spaced, and he might take pity on me and let me take it late. I got home from work today and I had an email from my teacher saying that he extended the deadline until Monday for the class to take it. I didn’t have to lie and come up with a stupid excuse for why I am a slacker. I didn’t even have to admit that I made a mistake. the problem just took care of itself. Lucky me… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-245401902766582494?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/245401902766582494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=245401902766582494&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/245401902766582494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/245401902766582494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/lucky-me.html' title='Lucky me'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3425892458080552983</id><published>2010-01-18T21:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T21:14:36.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It’s her Birthday…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Amy gives a fresh new perspective on life. With a crazy schedule and a house full of kids her life is never at a stand still. She has a talent for showing her followers a glimpse of her life. Letting her readers experience a wide range of emotions, sadness, happiness, and laughter with her. Her personality is shown through her witty and fun way of telling her stories. She has a sense of humor that is hilarious although others (apparently) may find it offensive. She has a house full of children, and yet she still wants more. She is a fabulous mother,&amp;#160; sister, friend, aunt, and wife, and she cares about others. She is dedicated to sharing her life with people through her writing. Amy knows exactly who she is, and she is okay with herself. She is someone that many look up to, her optimistic outlook on life, her love for her family, and her sense of humor are just a few of the traits we all love about her.&amp;#160; Her blog is a must read, entertaining, and full of surprises. &lt;a href="http://amylovesdamon.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Check it out.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Amy, &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I hope that you have had a great Birthday! I love being able to get to know you and your family better through your blog. I love that you take the time to read and comment on my blog. It is one of those things I look forward to, it keeps me writing. Thanks for letting me get to know you better (even if it’s only through your blog) and for keeping up with what is happening in my life. I love you, and Happy Birthday.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3425892458080552983?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3425892458080552983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3425892458080552983&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3425892458080552983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3425892458080552983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-her-birthday.html' title='It’s her Birthday…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-6328676750828975868</id><published>2010-01-17T18:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T18:01:38.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bishopric Rocks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I love the bishopric in my ward. They all take the time to get to know us, and what is going on in our lives. My Bishop is the best. I don’t know how he does it. Every time he sees me he asks me something that is specific to what is going on in my life. I bet he could tell you more about what is going on with my life than even my dad could. (For any of you who know my dad, that probably doesn’t mean a whole lot) I just really like that they care enough to keep up with us. All I have to say is my Bishopric rocks!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-6328676750828975868?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/6328676750828975868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=6328676750828975868&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6328676750828975868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6328676750828975868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-bishopric-rocks.html' title='My Bishopric Rocks!'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-4902830138733560608</id><published>2010-01-16T18:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T19:02:01.052-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camera'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brooke'/><title type='text'>No you cannot borrow it…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I did it! I bought myself a new camera! It’s nothing fancy but it is mine! This time I will have it in my possession for longer than a couple weeks. This will be a first. I always seem to lend out my new gadgets when I have only had them for a couple of weeks. Then I never get them back. My first camera I ever bought for myself was for my trip to Africa, then as soon as I got home Jason got his hands on it… Haven’t seen it since. The same thing happened with my Ipod, it was brand new… I wonder if he even knows where it’s at. I guess the good thing about people stealing your stuff is you can use  it for a gift to them when you don’t have the money or time to get them a present, and you know that you should have. Jason got my camera for his wedding… by that point it had stopped working, but that is his problem, not mine. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, Brooke. Merry Christmas 2008. My dad never got you a present, so consider that little blue camera that I haven’t seen in… a long time a present to you. You can have it, keep it, consider it yours. And for anyone who would like to borrow my camera, No. If you want I will come take pictures for you though. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-4902830138733560608?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/4902830138733560608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=4902830138733560608&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4902830138733560608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4902830138733560608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/no-you-cannot-borrow-it.html' title='No you cannot borrow it…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2167309049120528329</id><published>2010-01-15T22:49:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T19:01:14.381-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wisdom teeth'/><title type='text'>Poor Kelci…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;She had to get her wisdom teeth taken out today. Luckily me and her only have our upper ones, the bottom never grew in. I am supposed to be getting mine out soon, but I haven’t called to schedule it. Ewww, I don’t want to get mine taken out. Kelci said she could feel presure, and then she could hear things cracking. When I get mine out, I am definitely going to have to be put under. I can deal with blood, but I don’t like the harshness of dealing with bones and teeth. So orthopedic surgery is off my list of specialties. I will probably wait for a while to get mine out, it isn’t like they are doing anything, they are just sitting there. All the of dentist I have been to before the one I am going to right now have told me that I don’t have to worry about my wisdom teeth. Kelci is just miserable, now that the numbness is going away. There isn’t really anything that I can do for her. I told her I would sit with her and watch a movie or something. Plus I hope that the Tylenol PM kicks in soon so she can get some sleep tonight. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2167309049120528329?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2167309049120528329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2167309049120528329&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2167309049120528329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2167309049120528329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/poor-kelci.html' title='Poor Kelci…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7021946803933586184</id><published>2010-01-14T18:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T18:37:10.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess it’s worth the wait</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It has been about 2 weeks since I got my last letter from Scott. Well, today I got&amp;#160; two! I can’t tell you how much I enjoy getting letters from him. It’s the highlight of my week. He’s doing really well, and he’s cute. He’s had 3 baptisms in the past 3 weeks. I think that’s awesome. He’s doing great, and getting chubby… I think it’s funny!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;While in the MTC:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S0_Gv33-CgI/AAAAAAAAAKU/1UfDi3s3rm8/s1600-h/IMG_1193%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_1193" border="0" alt="IMG_1193" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S0_GwVtUuSI/AAAAAAAAAKc/-I6OvPWajN0/IMG_1193_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="175" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Now:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S0_Gw39ExBI/AAAAAAAAAKg/nvKzdNWupBU/s1600-h/cold%20bikes%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="cold bikes" border="0" alt="cold bikes" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S0_GxbO62kI/AAAAAAAAAKk/7cLNZ_XjWpg/cold%20bikes_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="175" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;He says that it is only his face that is chubby, but I can’t tell because this is how he is dressed in all the pictures. . It&amp;#160; totally cracks me up. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Also, Today was my first day of running… All I have to say is what was I thinking. First of all it is freezing outside, secondly since when do I like to run? Maybe I will stick with in, and get into amazing shape or something. I hear the first few runs are the hardest and then it kind of becomes addictive. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7021946803933586184?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7021946803933586184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7021946803933586184&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7021946803933586184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7021946803933586184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-guess-its-worth-wait.html' title='I guess it’s worth the wait'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/S0_GwVtUuSI/AAAAAAAAAKc/-I6OvPWajN0/s72-c/IMG_1193_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-4489726485116066808</id><published>2010-01-13T22:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T22:59:36.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess this means I need to start training.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Remember how like 6 months ago I though that it would be a good idea to start training for a relay? Well, that relay is in 6 months and it has been too cold to train. I guess this means that I might actually have to start using my gym pass that I pay for every month. Everyone that I know who has done it, loved it. I want to do it, it would look good on my list of things I’ve accomplished in my life, but I really don’t want to start training. I only need be able to run about 10 miles… I know I’m crazy. Check out the route,&amp;#160; &lt;a title="http://www.ragnarrelay.com/wasatchback/coursemaps" href="http://www.ragnarrelay.com/wasatchback/coursemaps"&gt;http://www.ragnarrelay.com/wasatchback/coursemaps&lt;/a&gt;. I don’t know which runner I am yet, but I definitely have the hills to train on considering I live on a mountain. Do I really have the motivation to train? Probably not, but I think Courtney would be mad if I didn’t try. Wish me luck.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Favorite quotes from my professors:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Oh my gosh, I am being hugged by a prostitute”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Don’t spit on your over head, it shows up”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-4489726485116066808?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/4489726485116066808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=4489726485116066808&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4489726485116066808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4489726485116066808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-guess-this-means-i-need-to-start.html' title='I guess this means I need to start training.'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1314385794473488817</id><published>2010-01-12T22:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T22:05:47.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random facts you might not know about me…</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;   &lt;li&gt;I won’t drink tap water, I only drink bottled or filtered water &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I think Orange flavored candies are almost the worst flavor ever &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I have a lot of OCD tendencies. (I have to recopy my math homework so it looks pretty, stuff like that) &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am 5’10, and I wish I were shorter. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am some sort of Science major at BYU, maybe PDBio, maybe Microbiology. I just need to choose. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I have the typical Mormon hobbies (quilting, scrapbooking, etc.) &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I love to travel, and I wish I had the money and time to do it. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;My mom is one of my best friends. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I don’t like English, and I avoid all English classes mainly because I suck at it. Which you probably know if you read my blog very often. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Science and math come much easier for me. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am interested in why things work the way they do, I think that is why I like science and math.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I over analyze EVERYTHING!&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I love playing board games, and card games.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I know how to solve a Rubiks cube.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am always cold, sometimes even in the summer.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am a perfectionist (kind of goes along with #3)&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I sleep with 3 blankets every night&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I hate asking for help, even though I know life would be much easier if I just got over myself and ask for help&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I hate driving by myself, so I am always on my phone or try to be with someone else.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Black and gray make up the majority of my clothing. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I love getting things in the mail, so it is officially my job to get the mail and I get mad if they get it first. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I have a list of 200 things I want to do before I die (maybe that will be my post for another night when I have nothing to write about)&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I have a hard time saying no to people, even though I don’t have time to do the things people ask me to do.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am going against a Harward trait, which means trying really hard not to be a flake&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I rarely wear matching socks, I have lots of colors and I don’t bother to sort them.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1314385794473488817?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1314385794473488817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1314385794473488817&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1314385794473488817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1314385794473488817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/random-facts-you-might-not-know-about.html' title='Random facts you might not know about me…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7034463479311321621</id><published>2010-01-11T22:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T22:19:26.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another day…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Let’s see, I got up early, went to School. Left School, went to work, hated work… This sounds like pretty much everyday of my life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I guess there where a couple highlights to my day:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;I actually said hi to my cousin in class, I don’t think he cared too much. Oh well, at least I made an effort. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I ran into one of my favorite people today on campus. I love her to death, and I wish I got to see her more often. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I got to work on commission stuff at work, I really like working with commissions. Too bad that ended pretty quickly.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I got to go shopping with my mom, she bought a couple new outfits. Plus she bought me a couple pieces of jewelry and a sweatshirt. &lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My life is pretty boring, isn’t it? I do the same things everyday. I stay really busy, but nothing too eventful happens. Aren’t you glad that I don’t write you a letter ever week. Poor Scott. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7034463479311321621?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7034463479311321621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7034463479311321621&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7034463479311321621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7034463479311321621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/just-another-day.html' title='Just another day…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1578966301315171921</id><published>2010-01-10T23:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T00:01:44.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can Sunday even be considered part of the weekend?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I swear, Sundays are just as much work as any other day of the week. I think mostly it is so much work because I’m Mormon. In order to be qualified as active you have to attend meetings after meetings. For the average person there is the 3 hour block every Sunday. Sacrament, Gospel Doctrine, and then Relief Society/Priesthood. Then there are the yearly interviews that typically take place around your birthday. (I think this is to make sure they don’t miss anyone.) Then there is the end of the year tithing settlements, temple interviews. Church takes up a lot of time. Then you get a calling. Which you don’t mind doing, it will help you get to know others in the ward, so it shouldn’t be too bad. Wrong, that’s when they throw on a bunch more meetings that you are supposed to attend. Also being in a singles ward you are expected to attend FHE on Mondays. Then when you can’t go, people in the ward come and ask you where you were last Monday and why you didn’t attend FHE. They act like they genuinely care, but you know most people just want to boost their stats. They have that, “we don’t want you to become inactive” look in their eye. Then when I tell them that I work, and it doesn’t fit into my schedule they relax a little, let it sink in, then ask if there is anyway that I can change my schedule so I can get off earlier. Also, I can’t forget about Institute, every Tuesday and Wednesday. Well, I can’t attend that either. I promise I am not going inactive, but it just seems like sometimes it requires a lot to be what most consider an “Active Mormon”. Sometimes I just want to give up.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This month there have been 3 ward council meetings. There is another next week. I am hardly able to sit through 3 hours, but now my 3 hours is more like 4.5 hours. Oh, and making a ward directory sucks! Do you know how much time it takes every semester? My point is, Sunday is a lot of work, and some of it isn’t as painful as other parts. But it is work none then less and I don’t think it can be considered part of my weekend. You know the break you get after a long week. It is more like work to start to a long week. You do what you have to. :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1578966301315171921?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1578966301315171921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1578966301315171921&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1578966301315171921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1578966301315171921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/can-sunday-even-be-considered-part-of.html' title='Can Sunday even be considered part of the weekend?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1005189971186180457</id><published>2010-01-09T23:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T23:24:13.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Target is a very dangerous place for me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I have been trying to get the whole basement completely cleaned and organized today. Even though a lot of improvement has been made, I am still not very satisfied. Why do I have so much STUFF. It’s a work in progress and maybe one of these days I will actually finish getting everything put together. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After a long day of cleaning I thought I deserved a treat. So I asked my mom if she wanted to go to Target with me to get some ice cream. Anyone who knows my family very well know that we are very loyal Target fans. That’s where you will find us at 3:00am on Black Friday. Me, my mom, Jason, and Kelci have all worked there. I probably spend 2 or so hours a week there… even if I don’t need anything. Mostly just to blow time between school and work.&amp;#160; Target is our store, I could probably point you in the right direction better than an employee when trying to find something. Well, our quick ice cream trip turned into a 2 hour adventure. We didn’t do anything in particular, just walked around and made fun of all the crazy things that people actually buy. The $3.00 I was planning on spending quickly turned into $70.00. Did I really need the shelves, or a season of Veronica Mars, or the picture frames? No, not really. Did I want them? Indeed I did. I am happy with my purchases. But I can’t say the same about the amount in my bank account. I love Target, I really do, but I need to banned. I’m addicted, I can’t get in and out with out buying something completely unnecessary. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1005189971186180457?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1005189971186180457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1005189971186180457&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1005189971186180457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1005189971186180457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/target-is-very-dangerous-place-for-me.html' title='Target is a very dangerous place for me'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-8602287428145653521</id><published>2010-01-08T19:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T19:08:34.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So this is what it feels like to be prepared</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;High School was a breeze for me. I worked minimal hours, all of the concepts were really easy. I didn’t really have to try, it just came to me. BYU is the complete opposite as that. My first two semesters were pretty easy, mostly just boring generals that I wanted to get out of the way. My second year at BYU was okay, I stressed out about EVERYTHING. This past semester, was tough until I dropped Calc, then things got a whole lot easier. I’m not far enough into the semester to really know how it’s going to turn out.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I never had good study habits before. High School is where you are supposed to learn good study habits.&amp;#160; I never had to study to get the grade. This past week, I have done all of my work, and it felt good to go to class prepared. I am going into the weekend and I don’t have any homework to do. Usually my weekends are filled with trying to catch up on the reading or trying to catch up on any missed sleep. I am a natural procrastinator. But I am totally caught up (sure it’s only been a week but I have had 4 quizzes so far) and I am getting plenty of sleep. This is very weird territory for me, but I like it. One week down, many more to go, I wonder how long I will be able to keep this up. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-8602287428145653521?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/8602287428145653521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=8602287428145653521&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8602287428145653521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8602287428145653521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-this-is-what-it-feels-like-to-be.html' title='So this is what it feels like to be prepared'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2365519079498390765</id><published>2010-01-07T09:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T09:25:42.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At least someone thinks I’m smart</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It’s 9:13 and I am already done for the day. How awesome is that? Yesterday I decided to ask to take today off from work. Then towards the end of my shift my supervisor asked if I wanted to leave early. It was only about a half an hour early, so I was completely up to going home for the night. Then he said, “And you don’t have to come in tomorrow” My first thought was, Oh crap is this the way they are letting me know I am fired. Then after a moment of panic I remembered I requested the day off only a couple hours before. So, today I get to have a break mostly because I wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything to stupid at work. That’s not why I’m smart though. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I had my math lab today and the TA put up a couple questions on the board. She asked us to work by ourselves and do the best that we could to solve the problems. After about 10 minutes she asked us to get into pairs and help each other with any problems that we had in solving them. I sit in the back of the class usually. A boy moved back to sit next to me. He compared answers with me on the first couple problems, and then he asked how I did the last one. I gave a short explanation for how to plug in the right numbers and he smile and nodded like he followed what I was talking about then I see him look at what I got, write down the answer, and then he asked me to compare. Of course it was exactly what I had written on my paper. I thought it was kind of funny though. Then I stood up to leave after class and he asks if we can study sometime. I have no problem with studying but my schedule sure isn’t very fun to work with. I told him I would be fine with studying with him, and I turned to leave the class.&amp;#160; As I am walking away he says, “Can I at least get your number?” I guess that would be helpful wouldn’t it. I haven’t ever done the whole study thing with a group or another person before because I&amp;#160; get bothered easily when I have to explain things more than once or twice. But I am flattered, at least someone thinks I’m smart. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2365519079498390765?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2365519079498390765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2365519079498390765&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2365519079498390765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2365519079498390765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/at-least-someone-thinks-im-smart.html' title='At least someone thinks I’m smart'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-8943268974518273998</id><published>2010-01-06T20:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T20:20:39.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have fallen in love…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#160; haven’t ever realized how much fun reading can be. I LOVE it! I am a little disappointed that I have been missing out on all the fun for most of my life. I don’t even know where it started. I just picked up a book, finished it, started on a new book an finished it…and now I am looking for some suggestions. This whole reading thing is new to me. It’s exciting. I’ve never had the urge in my life to read, but something changed. I am required to read one book for my mission prep class. I bought all three of the options and I am half way done with the first one. Sure it isn’t the most interesting read, but I think it has some great lessons in it. I enjoy reading just about anything. Crazy. I never thought I would be one of those reading type people. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I am slowly getting better at reading. Which I have found useful when there is a large reading assignment for classes. Science will always be a difficult read, but I don’t get tired of reading as easily.What a great thing to love. Life is great… new hobbies are great… and I like to read, who would have thought?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-8943268974518273998?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/8943268974518273998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=8943268974518273998&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8943268974518273998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8943268974518273998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-have-fallen-in-love.html' title='I have fallen in love…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2920555110695267777</id><published>2010-01-05T20:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T23:16:57.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work sucks, and I am dumb</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Do you want to hear something sad? I HATE my job! I hate taking call after call from people who want to complain about one thing or another. They used to trust us at work, it used to be fun. Just recently they started adding all sorts of rules. Rules can be a good thing. They let us know what is expected from us. Now they have rules like you can’t say can, only may. If you say can on a phone call then you will get a warning… Really? Do you think that someone is really going to be offended if I ask them if there is anything I can help them with? Plus I think it sounds better to say can. I hate reading from a script, it makes us seem like robots. We have to ask how they are. Lots of times they are angry, so how are you today? “I think that your company is scam and that you are stealing all of our money” Okay… can I get your account number? I’m sure that is what they wanted. They want us to read a script instead of responding naturally to the caller. I HATE my job! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here I am asking myself, why do you still work there? I want to say because I get paid well, and it really isn’t that bad. But the truth is that it is that bad. I get paid okay, I probably wouldn’t be able to find a job that pays the same especially around BYU campus. I don’t think I could go back to the whole minimum wage thing. So really, why haven’t I quit yet? Because I am scared. I have no real skills, so if I did quit what would I do. I need to work, pay for my car and stuff. This job is pretty secure, I don’t get in trouble very often, and overall I am well liked. I want out, but I don’t have the guts to act. I am comfortable where I am, I may hate it, but I am pretty good at it. If I quit I wouldn’t even know where to start. I could go back to target…no thanks. I could work for my dad again… actually I don’t even know what he does anymore so that wouldn’t work. I would like to get a job at the hospital, but I need to get my MA or something so I won’t be in charge of cleaning out bed pans… I don’t know what to do. I am dumb.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2920555110695267777?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2920555110695267777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2920555110695267777&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2920555110695267777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2920555110695267777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/work-sucks-and-i-am-dumb.html' title='Work sucks, and I am dumb'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-8148167425709692759</id><published>2010-01-04T19:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T19:45:06.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can handle school, but can I handle work?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I am really looking forward to classes, after the first day I think that I will enjoy them for the most part. I am a little worried about my Molecular Biology class though. The homework has to be done in groups. I hate group things because my schedule isn’t the easiest thing to work with. I can do it by myself, but I lose points for not doing it in a group. We’ll see what happens with that. Mission Prep will be fun, I am a little sad that we aren’t using Preach my gospel as the text like they used to, but I am excited none the less. Robby (my cousin) is in that class with me, although I bet I won’t get to talk to him much he seems to always have&amp;#160; a crowd around him. Good for him, way to be social. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Now work is what is going to kill me. I do so much more work than everyone around me. I hate it! I wish I was one of those nonobservant types, then I would never know how unfair things are. Oh well, I am hoping to be able to get a job at the hospital after this semester. I can stick it out for another couple of months.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My days really aren’t very eventful, but I did hear a funny story so I thought that I would share. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I guess the other day this lady called into Target just absolutely sobbing. The person who answered the phone passed it on to the Guest Service Team Lead who was trying to figure out what had happened to make the lady so upset. She kept telling them, “I need you to check this wedding registry for me”, “I need you to make sure that it is correct” Of course there isn’t a way to see if it is correct because different people register for different things. By now the lady is freaking out so much and the GSTL didn’t know what the problem was. She then started to explain herself, “My daughter is supposed to be getting married in the temple, and there are diapers on her registry. I need you to check if this is correct. She is supposed to be getting married in the temple. How could she do this, will you please make sure it is right?”… Nice way to find out your daughter is pregnant… Of course target would be the first place I would call too if I thought my daughter was pregnant. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-8148167425709692759?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/8148167425709692759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=8148167425709692759&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8148167425709692759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8148167425709692759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-can-handle-school-but-can-i-handle.html' title='I can handle school, but can I handle work?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-9197466724742119141</id><published>2010-01-03T19:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T19:31:49.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Semester Here I Come…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It’s hard to believe that I have to go back to school tomorrow. I am pretty excited. I actually enjoy going to school, it’s the missing out on a social life because I have to study that I don’t really like. This semester I am going to take it pretty easy. Calculus, Molecular Biology, Mission Prep.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; I need a religion credit, and I think that mission prep would be a good class, whether or not I am planning on going on a mission. I want to gain a better understanding of the gospel as a whole, and we will be using the preach my gospel through out the semester.&amp;#160; Plus the professor that I have is known to be the best religion teacher at BYU. Randy Botts, I haven’t taken any classes from him so far, but I have had roommates that have. They said that he is AMAZING. I am really looking forward to his class, and I hope to gain a better knowledge of the basic gospel principles. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Calculus… I was enrolled in this class last semester, but then I got sick for a week, and got way behind so I dropped the class. I am pretty sure that I had swine flu. If you haven’t ever gotten a week behind in a College level math class then you don’t understand how impossible it is to catch up. The good news is I know most of the material, and so the class should be much easier the second time around. (At least the first part of the class will be easy)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Molecular Biology is going to be interesting. It is required for my current major, which is Physiology and Developmental Biology. I went into the advisement center the other day and they tried to convince me to change my major to Microbiology. I really like the anatomy part of the major I am in right now. But if I switch to Micro then I will have more opportunities to get in to a research lab. I will finish this semester and then maybe I will consider switching my major if I enjoy this class. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;9 credits… that isn’t too bad. I can handle 9 credits and work at the same time. When I start doing the stuff to get my MA then my life might get a little more complicated. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-9197466724742119141?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/9197466724742119141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=9197466724742119141&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/9197466724742119141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/9197466724742119141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/winter-semester-here-i-come.html' title='Winter Semester Here I Come…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-5612746665605141517</id><published>2010-01-02T22:44:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T22:46:51.540-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sheyene'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Allie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>2 days down 363 days to go</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I am not necessarily making a commitment to doing 363 more blog posts this year, but just counting down til the end of 2010.  However,  I will try harder to keep everyone informed on the not so many happenings of my life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today was a good way to end winter break. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sleeping in… check&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Grabbing lunch at In-N-Out Burger with a friend who I haven’t talked to in almost a month (guess that is what happens when girls get a boyfriend)… check&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Going to Target to buy a Michael Buble CD and leaving with 3 (He is my newly found obsession, plus who doesn’t LOVE target?)… check&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Having my mom call and ask me to do a pedicure at 3:00, then realizing it is a girl that I used to be in Young Womens with, my age with two kids, then being grateful I have my life and not hers… check&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The first lesson in my Japanese Rosetta Stone… check&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dinner with my Best Friend from Freshman year, Allie and her husband, at Happy Sumo…check&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sitting down with my mom to watch an old Scary movie, and by old I mean that I actually found Jack Nicholson to be some what attractive, and falling asleep…check&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Chocolate overload ice cream… check&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;What a day! It was really good. Lots of food, and friends. I think it was a great way to spend my last Saturday of my break. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-5612746665605141517?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/5612746665605141517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=5612746665605141517&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5612746665605141517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5612746665605141517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/2-days-down-363-days-to-go.html' title='2 days down 363 days to go'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3668944658555958261</id><published>2010-01-01T23:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T22:48:01.924-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resolutions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scott'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Is it really already 2010?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I am just hoping that this year goes by just as quickly as 2009. I have kind of been in a funk since Christmas, and I am dying for time to speed up again. Christmas break has been awesome, I have gotten to relax a little, and sleep in. Time goes by way to slowly when I am not having to do homework or study. Plus, not having a social life kind of makes time seem slower too. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My Christmas was perfect. I don’t think that I could have asked for anything better. Here’s why:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got to sleep in&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My dad and the boys came over for presents and breakfast&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My mom made waffles, I really like waffles&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got to open presents (sorta) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We hung out over at Jason and Joce’s house and ate dinner with them&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got to talk with Scott of the phone… :) (Yes, I cried)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got even more presents&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got to play games with Scotts family&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got to play games with Jason, Joce, her parents, my mom, Kelci, Bryce, and Chandler (aka Cameron, who is Jocelynn’s brother and Kelci’s boyfriend at the moment)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don’t think I would change anything from my day. Maybe the anxiety about being able to talk to Scott. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ever since then I have kind of been dreading the next year and a half… I forget sometimes how much I miss Scott, and talking to him definitely got me thinking. It’s a little less than a year and a half, but from where I am standing right now that seems like eternity. I am sure time will go by quickly again once I am back and school, and constantly busy, but time just doesn’t seem to go by quick enough. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;New Years… was really fun. A friend drove up from California to spend some time with me. He came over and we played a couple games with my mom. At midnight we went outside and we banged on some pots and pans. Lit some sparklers and threw those pop things on the ground. Bryce was quite the entertainer. He was being so funny with the sparklers, he reacted to each sparkler a different way, those are the moments where I really wish I had a video camera.  Then later Kelci and Cameron came over and played games with us. Pretty good new year. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;UPDATE ON SCOTT: He is doing really good right now. He has had a couple baptisms, and he is loving being in Japan. He has written me every single week since he has been gone, and even sent me a  couple packages. He’s pretty great. I think that everyone in my family agrees that he is a keeper. We’ll see what happens… :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;New Years Resolutions:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;This year I am finally going to try Stacy’s…? advice. I am going to try to put scripture study and prayer before my school studies. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I need to be better about writing Scott every week, I do send him emails but, letters in the mail are so much more fun than emails. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do all of my homework before it is actually due so I am not rushing around last minute to get it done.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Put 30% of every pay check into savings… it’s about time I start saving some money just incase I need it later.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Learn Japanese… this one is kind of just for fun, and I thought it would be a fun surprise for Scott when he gets home. I bought the Japanese Rosetta Stone today… This will be very interesting.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cross off 10 thing from my “to do before I die” list. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be a better daughter (maybe I should talk to my dad more often than once  a month)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be a better sister, keep up with what is happening in Jason’s life, and get to know my sister a little better&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I can’t really think of very many things right now, but that’s a good start. If you have any other suggestions of things I might want to work on during 2010, let’s hear it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy New Year everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3668944658555958261?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3668944658555958261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3668944658555958261&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3668944658555958261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3668944658555958261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2010/01/is-it-really-already-2010.html' title='Is it really already 2010?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7726075890430221928</id><published>2009-12-16T22:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T22:36:15.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now is not a time to play catch up…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Eventually I will get to blogging about Thanksgiving break in Arizona, but not tonight. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This week is Finals week…3 words… kill me now! Okay, it really hasn’t been that bad. I really hate taking tests, but I can’t think of anyone who enjoys it. The plan is to take one tomorrow and one on Friday. Maybe I should take both of them tomorrow and just get it over with.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I love not working… today I went into work and they said “Hey Amber, do you want the day off?” What kind of question is that? Of course I want the day off. I have enough PTO to last me at least a week… I have tomorrow scheduled off, and I probably won’t have to go in on Friday either! This is the longest break I have had from work in a really long time. I am loving it! I wish that I didn’t have to work as much as I do, but you do what you gotta do. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, wish me luck on finals… I just need to remember it will all be over in a couple days… and then in 3 weeks I get to start the whole process over again. :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7726075890430221928?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7726075890430221928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7726075890430221928&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7726075890430221928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7726075890430221928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/12/now-is-not-time-to-play-catch-up.html' title='Now is not a time to play catch up…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-9032098009260682655</id><published>2009-11-22T20:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T20:17:59.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorrow is Monday… but why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I hate weekends where you get to Sunday evening and wonder why tomorrow is going to be Monday again. Where did my weekend go?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Saturday I went shopping… I think this is the longest shopping trip I have ever been on. Me and Kelci met up with a girl that I work with and her sister in law and we shopped for a while. After that me and Kelci decided to keep shopping for a bit, we weren’t fully satisfied with our purchases yet. It was a very long day, but I ended up finding a couple really good deals. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Today… was long. I left for church at around 9:15 and I got home a a little before 7. I went to my sacrament meeting, then I went over to my friends because she didn’t want to go to her singles ward alone. I went to that with her and then I had to go back to my church for tithing settlement. It has been a really long day. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Things that I learned this weekend:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Buying new clothes is fun, but carrying them around after isn’t.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;My little sister actually likes having&amp;#160; Kelci-Amber time&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;The girl who taught RS today has situational depression&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;My singles ward bishop is really on top of things, and he is interested in getting to know everyone individually&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am really tall, even when I wear flats.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I have really long arms, and most long-sleeved shirts don’t fit me. :(&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I think it would be fun to teach RS… I know, I think it is crazy too, but I like being able to be creative, and I think I could have a lot of fun.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Kalie has a really nice family, and she must talk about me or something because they all knew who I was.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am still afraid to drive in the snow, and I have been for 5 years.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am so excited to go to Arizona tomorrow! Please let it be warm…&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tomorrow is Monday… Good thing it is the only day I have to work or go to class! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-9032098009260682655?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/9032098009260682655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=9032098009260682655&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/9032098009260682655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/9032098009260682655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/11/tomorrow-is-monday-but-why.html' title='Tomorrow is Monday… but why?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-6285881662367576215</id><published>2009-11-20T00:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T00:04:08.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you prioritize things you want to get done?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is my constant struggle. I have too many interests, too many wants. How can I fit them into my life?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Things I would love to do:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol&gt;   &lt;li&gt;Go to Medical School&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Quit my ridiculously stupid job&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Learn how to us Photoshop&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Travel&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Get my MA&amp;#160; certification (this one will make # 2 happen)&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Build my photography portfolio&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Graduate with Honors from BYU&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Things that I wish I had:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;More time to study (I actually enjoy it, but I am too tired after I get home from work. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;There is a specific Camera I have been eyeing, but it probably won’t happen for a while. I guess I will just have to hold on to my dad’s camera until he actually comes to take it from me.&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;A lower car payment&lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;More Sleep&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Just a few of Many things I hope happen eventually.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-6285881662367576215?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/6285881662367576215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=6285881662367576215&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6285881662367576215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6285881662367576215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-do-you-prioritize-things-you-want.html' title='How do you prioritize things you want to get done?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2378737080261896203</id><published>2009-11-17T23:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T23:29:32.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that make me smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Quotes from today that made me smile.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Between my boss, and one of the employees at work:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Jake: “I didn’t take your phone, I swear on Zach’s dead grandma. (Zach do you have a dead grandma?)”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Zach: “I do, but I don’t know if that makes it worse or better.” &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;From Amy’s Blog:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Nolan: “his life has writing on it, my life is blank”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;From work. Me and a one of my friends were separated at work and so we were writing notes on a paper crinkling it up and throwing it at each other.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Zach: “Why don’t you just use the phone, or email each other?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Me: “This way is more fun”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Zach: “This way is also wireless”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My favorite response to the question Why does Donald duck wear a towel around his waist when he gets out of the shower, but on a normal day he doesn’t wear any pants.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Jace: “Ducks get excited in water, he doesn’t normally have anything to hide.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Other things that make me smile&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I was walking on campus the other day and I saw 2 guys sitting on the sidewalk. One was wearing a helmet and the other wasn’t. I thought it was kind of a funny site. As I got closer I saw that the boy without the helmet only had one shoe on. His shoe was on the other side of the of the sidewalk. Then I notice a bike laying on the ground a little further down. I can’t believe it, a pedestrian was hit by someone on a bike. (At least that validates my fear of people on bikes while I am walking through campus) both of them were completely fine, but I almost wish I would have seen it happen.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Family who actually cares about what is going on in your life. (Amy thanks for taking the time to read my blog, and take an interest in my life)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Getting a letter in the mail every week from Scott. I swear that his letters have the best timing&amp;#160; they come on days that I really need a pick me up. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Getting FB messages from people you haven’t talked to in a while. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Getting to eat dinner with one of my really good friends and her husband. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My living room is now clean… it’s about time&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Clean Laundry, I never realized how many more options I have when my clothes are clean. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;French Fries, Dancing, Reading to name just a few.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2378737080261896203?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2378737080261896203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2378737080261896203&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2378737080261896203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2378737080261896203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/11/things-that-make-me-smile.html' title='Things that make me smile'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7595582579133322783</id><published>2009-10-25T02:05:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T23:47:49.175-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone is doing it</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It seems like everyone’s blogs these days are so much more thought oriented than story oriented. It’s all about what people are thinking and how they feel. Do I really have to guts to express what is going through my head right now. I’m just going to vent, so you don’t really have to read this, it isn’t going to be too interesting. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First of all, I drive myself crazy. I hate that I cannot be perfect! I know that is stupid to let myself get stressed out about that, but I can’t help it. I spend so much time worrying about things these days. I know it won’t make me any more productive to stress out, but the stress just doesn’t go away. Here is what I am stressed about.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1) SCHOOL: I love being able to study what I want. I am actually really enjoying my classes. The only problem is I don’t have a whole lot of time to study. I can’t finish all of my homework, and so now I am a little behind. Just the thought about how much work I have to catch up on makes me tired. High School was SO easy, I never studied, and I usually got the highest grades on tests and assignments. BYU is the complete opposite. I am no longer on the of the smarter ones. I am average, maybe even below average sometimes. I can study (usually the night before a test) and I will still get a horrible grade. Even the class that I am staying caught up in and actively studying for I’m not doing so well in. Maybe I should cut back my hours at work. I am a horrible student. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2) WORK: I don’t know where to start. I actually enjoy my job on most days. I work at a call center, so it isn’t the most fun job ever, but it gives me enough money that I can play around with. I LOVE the people that I work with, which is good because I don’t have time for a social life outside of work. The thing that bothers me about my job is there is no room for me to move up. I was promoted last year, and then I was “demoted” (with out a pay cut so my boss says I can’t call it that). Now I guess they won’t promote anyone who isn’t working at least 40 hours a week. I work about 34-35 hours a week, and there is no way that I can find the time to work 5 more. It is just frustrating, I know that I am capable of doing so much more than what I am doing now, but there is nothing I can do to move up. So, I don’t even really try anymore, I know my stuff so I don’t have to really worry about losing my job, but I don’t feel like there is a point in going beyond what is asked. I suck as an employee.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3) SOCIAL LIFE: This pretty much doesn’t exist. I can’t say that I don’t have any friends, cause I do. I just don’t have time for them. I am a terrible friend! I feel bad, because one of my friends will ask me to do a favor for them. I really would love to, but there is no way for me to find room in my schedule. I feel like I am always bailing on people, telling them that I have to do homework instead of hanging out with them. It’s true, I always do have homework or studying to do, but it is also rude to bail on people. (What do you know, I am just as bad about bailing on people as my dad is) I am a flakey friend.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4) FAMILY: I don’t have a relationship with hardly anyone in my family. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I hardly ever talk to Kelci, and we live in the same house. I think I see her maybe 3 days a week and usually it is in passing. Most days the only communication we have is a text that says “I borrowed your jacket, I will put it back in your closet when I get home.” &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don’t even remember the last time that I even talked to my dad or Jason, they both seemed to have dropped of the face of the earth. But it isn’t like either of them would ever notice, and it isn’t like I make any sort of effort. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I do feel like I have a pretty good relationship with Jocelynn though. I work with her so we have something in common, and I love being able to see her everyday. It is nice to work with family.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My mom, I have a pretty good relationship with. She usually lets me talk her ear off on my drive home from work everyday. (45 minute drive) She stays pretty up to date with all the things going on in my life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When it comes to Bryce, I am a complete failure. I seriously SUCK as a sister. I never make an effort to go see him. I feel really guilty about that. I drive past his freeway exit everyday. It’s not like it would be hard to stop by once a week or every other week for 15 minutes on my way home from work. I feel especially guilty right now, he is in the hospital right now. He has pneumonia and swine flu… he’s hooked up to a ventilator, and I can’t go visit because I am sick, and I would hate to make it worse. I hate how often he is in the hospital, and I try to convince myself that I don’t worry about him getting better. But I do worry, I am scared every time he gets admitted. Yet, when he gets out I still don’t make an effort to spend time again… I am a Failure as a sister.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;5) CHURCH: I hate that I hate church. I didn’t used to hate it, but then I got a miserable calling. I know that you receive blessings when you fulfill a calling, but my calling seriously makes me cry. I just finished the ward directory, if anyone has ever done that before then you will understand my pain. I don’t have time to do my homework, and I definitely don’t have time to spend hours every week making flyers and trying to figure out a ward website. I asked to be released, and the response? Pray about it. I just want to give up right now, I don’t have the energy and I am starting to resent church. I am a awful Mormon. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6) EVERYTHING ELSE: I don’t have time to keep up with keeping my area clean. If you come to my house the basement is a disaster. I can’t stand that it is messy, it absolutely drives me nuts. I don’t have the energy to clean it up. I don’t know how it gets messy. The majority of it is clothes and school papers, but I don’t know what to do with it, I don’t know how to organize it. I am not very good at my housekeeping. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Why can’t I be perfect? Why can’t I have the energy to get everything done that I need to get done? Why? Why? Why? Because I am human, that’s why. I know that, but for some reason I still have the need to prove myself. I am sick of failing in every aspect of my life. I want to be a better person than I am. I want to be “perfect” or as close to that as I can possibly get. My mom always says that I am too hard on myself, maybe that is true, but maybe that is what I need to be a better person. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ps. I know that I have a good life, and I really can’t complain. I just feel so inadequate to handle just everyday stress. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7595582579133322783?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7595582579133322783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7595582579133322783&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7595582579133322783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7595582579133322783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/10/everyone-is-doing-it.html' title='Everyone is doing it'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-5725559012786385632</id><published>2009-09-30T00:07:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T00:07:44.254-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Again… Catching up on my life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I am not very good at keeping up with my blog. So let me start from the beginning of the month.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I turned 21 on the 2nd. Of course I had a couple friends offer to help me get drunk, but I'm not really into that sort of thing. So, I decided to throw a &amp;quot;mocktail&amp;quot; party. Serve non-alcholic drinks, virgin cocktails and what not. Then one idea lead to another and it kind of turned into a bigger deal than I originally planned. I rented a couple of rooms at a reception hall not too far from where I live (the same place Jason and Joce got married). That day was super crazy! There was so much to do and not enough time to do it. We had two rooms next to each other, one ballroom, and a room with a pool table. At first we all just sat around and socialized.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1ZKcXatI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/GISjvQJXKlM/s1600-h/DSC_0810%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0810" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="112" alt="DSC_0810" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1Zt50H-I/AAAAAAAAAIU/_k5bxx97BW4/DSC_0810_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1aa26leI/AAAAAAAAAIY/A4wiWesBlu4/s1600-h/DSC_0809%5B15%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0809" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="112" alt="DSC_0809" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1a06AEHI/AAAAAAAAAIc/XIQD_kmKaTs/DSC_0809_thumb%5B13%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="158" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1cCOg15I/AAAAAAAAAIg/Ymhacf8TO28/s1600-h/DSC_0798%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0798" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="165" alt="DSC_0798" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1cx5kHAI/AAAAAAAAAIk/eJswd0EgjuE/DSC_0798_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Kelci and a couple girls from my ward brought around a meatballs, crackers with artichoke dip, and glasses of sparkling cider.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1dS4yhGI/AAAAAAAAAIo/34rAb_be_Q0/s1600-h/DSC_0818%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0818" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="136" alt="DSC_0818" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1d-yqYsI/AAAAAAAAAIs/8CIBjBxEC-4/DSC_0818_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="191" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1eibBI4I/AAAAAAAAAIw/P98ScY9UvJU/s1600-h/DSC_0815%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0815" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="137" alt="DSC_0815" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1fDVTcJI/AAAAAAAAAI0/8EmjDQAJGgo/DSC_0815_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="192" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1fwUj2SI/AAAAAAAAAI4/rxUKhQAHHo4/s1600-h/DSC_0802%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0802" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="165" alt="DSC_0802" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1gUhcwCI/AAAAAAAAAI8/FGI7c_9q0lo/DSC_0802_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Then we went into the other room for dinner. We started with salad. Chicken Cordon Bleu, baked veggies, sparkling Jell-O, and rolls.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1hLkyXzI/AAAAAAAAAJA/cwMhzbUY0x4/s1600-h/DSC_0833%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0833" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="165" alt="DSC_0833" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1hulqh-I/AAAAAAAAAJE/53KjLPn56j8/DSC_0833_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1id3McWI/AAAAAAAAAJI/rsNhQau03wM/s1600-h/DSC_0827%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0827" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="106" alt="DSC_0827" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1iy0AtLI/AAAAAAAAAJM/-ONHC4tM7RU/DSC_0827_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1jMiKWrI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/FqYVy7f1zho/s1600-h/DSC_0828%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0828" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="106" alt="DSC_0828" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1jn-kdVI/AAAAAAAAAJU/xePm04J1B4E/DSC_0828_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Then of course we had mockatails being mixed the whole time (Thank you John!!) I found out that I’m not too shabby of a bar tender either… well, I can now mix 2 drinks. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1kKSZGQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/k6BYydGJPNg/s1600-h/DSC_0868%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0868" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="132" alt="DSC_0868" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1kltVgsI/AAAAAAAAAJc/nU8mZfQvBP4/DSC_0868_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="192" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1lCpjfZI/AAAAAAAAAJg/-G3qJZHl6eQ/s1600-h/DSC_0812%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0812" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="131" alt="DSC_0812" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1lnHemNI/AAAAAAAAAJk/fXJ1-7fg0Gw/DSC_0812_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="191" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1mfxRNEI/AAAAAAAAAJo/fQseFDF7_bo/s1600-h/DSC_0832%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0832" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="134" alt="DSC_0832" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1m_VVz8I/AAAAAAAAAJs/PhYuYy7nWWo/DSC_0832_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="191" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1na-TwuI/AAAAAAAAAJw/pm_mc7v6RXY/s1600-h/DSC_0864%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0864" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="135" alt="DSC_0864" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1oGxE70I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/bG_snfYK8S8/DSC_0864_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="192" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And of course there was cake!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1os_dbfI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/lxvyL3v7lC0/s1600-h/DSC_0852%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0852" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="88" alt="DSC_0852" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1pFrlSQI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/qH0DgszsE2A/DSC_0852_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="120" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1p97OkLI/AAAAAAAAAKA/nhn1MAtF0Mk/s1600-h/DSC_0854%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0854" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="88" alt="DSC_0854" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1qb5qGPI/AAAAAAAAAKE/HPMN6sXcsFg/DSC_0854_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="124" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1qx-jqZI/AAAAAAAAAKI/0MOQITQwoRA/s1600-h/DSC_0855%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0855" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="91" alt="DSC_0855" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1rVki32I/AAAAAAAAAKM/3ISTOjRG2Yk/DSC_0855_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="128" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It was a lot of fun, and I think that everyone them selves. Here are all of the pictures, or you can just check them out on &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2035778&amp;amp;id=203002917&amp;amp;l=fca999b0d3" target="_blank"&gt;facebook&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:66721397-FF69-4ca6-AEC4-17E6B3208830:eb3bf64b-58d3-4560-b17c-ce62b3eb528f" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;a style="border:0px" href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!215&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px" alt="View Birthday Album" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1rvEV1gI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/1H5MmmeT0HA/InlineRepresentatione2eed7d8-8c9d-4755-b814-1c9db9302f20.jpg?imgmax=800" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="width:340px;text-align:right;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!215&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;View Full Album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I also started school… I love school, just hate the homework. I am only taking three classes, but all three of those classes have a lab. I start classes every day at 8, and then I go to work right after and don’t get off until 7. I don’t usually get home until around 745ish. My day is pretty long. I have run into my cousin Ryan a couple times on campus which is pretty fun. I haven’t seen Robby yet though. I took my first Calculus test today, 87% which isn’t awful but I am going to shoot for a little higher next time. Hopefully more in the A range. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Work is going really well, we just hired a bunch of new people, and thing are really fun. I like having more people around to get to know. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Other than that my life is pretty much the same everyday. Wake&amp;#160; up, go to school, go to work, homework, sleep.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-5725559012786385632?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/5725559012786385632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=5725559012786385632&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5725559012786385632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/5725559012786385632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/09/once-again-catching-up-on-my-life.html' title='Once Again… Catching up on my life.'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SsL1Zt50H-I/AAAAAAAAAIU/_k5bxx97BW4/s72-c/DSC_0810_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3923760209026606930</id><published>2009-08-26T22:23:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T22:23:26.493-06:00</updated><title type='text'>California</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Last week I had the opportunity to go to California to help out with a Zrii event. We flew out really early on Thursday morning, and came back home on Sunday afternoon. Thursday was a day full of setup, and getting organized. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There was a huge convention going on at the same place that we were doing our event. They said there were around 100,000 people there. The company that owns World of Warcraft was the company doing the convention. So it was 100,000 nerds waiting in line to test a new game the Blizzcon was coming out with. I was amazed at how many people were dressed up like characters from games. They came from all over the US. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Friday was pretty busy, there was a lot of running around to make sure everything was taken care of. We got off a little early that night and we decided to see what was gong on downstairs. We just flashed our staff badges and they let us into the convention. We walked around a little bit and we got to see a dance competition. Wow, a gamers dance competition. I now know what a blood elf dance looks like. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:66721397-FF69-4ca6-AEC4-17E6B3208830:606e86aa-0884-42c5-9e93-67f05dcde286" style="padding-right: 0px; display: block; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin-left: auto; width: 340px; margin-right: auto; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;a style="border:0px" href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!210&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px" alt="View Blizzcon Convention" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SpYKOvpJK-I/AAAAAAAAAH8/1M4dMl87JXQ/InlineRepresentation156b2c86-c9e6-4b6c-8ceb-b61a2db8536f.jpg?imgmax=800" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="width:340px;text-align:right;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!210&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;View Full Album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Saturday was a little more relaxed. I ended up taking pictures of the event. So I wasn’t running around all day. We got off way earlier than expected and Ozzy Osborne was doing a show for the nerds downstairs. Again we tried to get in, this time we ran into a smarter security guard. Our staff badges didn’t match the Geek Squad’s staff badges. Our Events Manager told him we were with the marketing team and that we needed to get it. He walked away and said he would have to talk to his supervisor. 2 minutes later he told us that we could go it. Confidence is Key. It was great. Then we got all the way up to the front of the concert to watch Ozzy. One word to describe him is Creepy. I swear he has to be possessed. It makes a good story.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SpYKPCQId9I/AAAAAAAAAIA/YhpkjQQYBg0/s1600-h/Ozzy%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Ozzy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="244" alt="Ozzy" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SpYKPSZjAyI/AAAAAAAAAIE/9nqObluBmKg/Ozzy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="165" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3923760209026606930?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3923760209026606930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3923760209026606930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3923760209026606930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3923760209026606930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/08/california.html' title='California'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SpYKOvpJK-I/AAAAAAAAAH8/1M4dMl87JXQ/s72-c/InlineRepresentation156b2c86-c9e6-4b6c-8ceb-b61a2db8536f.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2299803672966039883</id><published>2009-08-15T09:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T10:11:26.785-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yet again, another massive catch up on my life</title><content type='html'>It has been quite a long time since the last time that I blogged. I can't think of anything very big that has happened lately. So this is what my life has been for the last month or so.&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much the only thing that I have done for the last while is work. Zrii has been pretty crazy. We just switched all of the systems we use, and the new system isn't fully functional yet. Which has been a mess to deal with. People call in to ask about their accounts and we have to tell them we don't have that information available at the moment. Which means I have taken lots of angry calls from people who want information that should be easy to find, but it is more like impossible with our new systems. Finally things have started to get less crazy at work, a lot of the bugs in the system have been resolved. My guess is it will get bad again on Monday. We cut the first set of checks since we changed the compensation plan, and I have a feeling that we are going to get a lot of people calling in because they don't like the new comp plan. I guess we will just have to see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;The good news about work is that I get to go out to California for a little convention thing we are doing out there. I leave Thursday morning and I fly home on Sunday. Jocelynn is going to too, so it should be pretty fun. Also, the girl who sits next to me at work gets to come, she is one of my favorite people, so I am pretty excited about it. Originally I think that I was invited to come to do pictures at the event, but I'm not sure if that is still one of my big job descriptions for the event. I hope that I will have a chance to do some photos, but it will be a relief if I am not the only one they are relying on for them. I am pretty good with a  camera, but the lighting is weird, and stuff when you are trying to take pictures of speakers. I just don't have enough experience in that area of photography to feel confident.&lt;br /&gt;Outside of work, I don't really have a life. I usually get home pretty late, and so I don't feel like going out and doing something. I usually end up watching TV while doing some craft project, or cleaning. I am starting to make some friends in my ward. I am having a lot of fun. I usually go to FHE on Mondays, and do ward prayer and games on Sundays. So I have a semi-social-life on Sundays and Mondays.&lt;br /&gt;I am planning on having a birthday party this year for myself... The last time I had a party was when I turned sixteen, and that turned out to be a disaster. I'm hoping that this one goes a little better than that one. In a couple weeks I will be the big 21. Which means legally I can drink. I had a couple friends offer to get me wasted. Thanks, but I think I'm okay with not drinking. For my party I am doing a dinner and "mocktails". I rented a couple rooms at Noahs, and it is going to be a pretty dressy event. I think that it will be fun. All of my really close friends are way excited, and I know that they will go all out with me. I am trying to come up with a menu to serve, but I'm not sure what to do. Any ideas would be appreciated. I figure I will start with a salad... that was the easy part. Then for the main dish I was thinking Chicken Cordon Bleu, and baked veggies? I also have to come up with a Vegetarian Dish. For some reason a lot of my Friends have gone Vegetarian and won't eat meat. I have a couple vegetarian recipes, but I don't have anything fancy. Then I have no idea for dessert, maybe cream puffs? That kind of goes along with my cocktail theme. I really want this party to be fun, so if you have any great ideas they would be greatly appreciated. You can just email me &lt;a href="mailto:reachamber@hotmail.com"&gt;reachamber@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt;, or I guess you comment.&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I will give anyone who wants to know an update on Scott. He has been in Japan for almost a month now. He is doing really well, but he is having a hard time talking to Native Japanese people. His first day in Japan he ended up in the hospital with food poisoning. I think that he is proud of his Japanese writing, cause there is usually a few sentences in Japanese writing in my letters, too bad I don't read Japanese. He's doing really good, and he is happy to finally be in Japan.&lt;br /&gt;I will make sure to post the outcome of my party after the big event. Hopefully it will all go as planned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2299803672966039883?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2299803672966039883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2299803672966039883&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2299803672966039883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2299803672966039883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/08/yet-again-another-massive-catch-up-on.html' title='Yet again, another massive catch up on my life'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1455794270846035679</id><published>2009-07-04T23:49:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:49:54.005-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Is that a squirrel?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I was down in the basement studying and I hear my mom yell for me to come up. She sounded like she was kind of in a panic. So I ran up and she is standing in the kitchen. Turns out that we had a squirrel in our laundry room. We had the door open earlier and apparently a squirrel found his way in. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It went into a closet, and we were trying to figure out a way to get it out of the house. I was standing on a chair slowly moving things out of the closet with a broom stick. I haven’t been that jumpy in a long time. We finally got him out of the closet and into the “green carpet room”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SlA-_BgpFBI/AAAAAAAAAHs/wKx_pKjyT2w/s1600-h/DSC_0225%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0225" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="165" alt="DSC_0225" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SlA-_uprCnI/AAAAAAAAAHw/56p33GT1dxg/DSC_0225_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SlA-_3sPDWI/AAAAAAAAAH0/rtcA6jnWDIg/s1600-h/DSC_0224%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_0224" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="165" alt="DSC_0224" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SlA_ASFARRI/AAAAAAAAAH4/UigyFxbRNpA/DSC_0224_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Then we chased it out the front door… haha, what a day. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1455794270846035679?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1455794270846035679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1455794270846035679&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1455794270846035679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1455794270846035679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/07/is-that-squirrel.html' title='Is that a squirrel?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SlA-_uprCnI/AAAAAAAAAHw/56p33GT1dxg/s72-c/DSC_0225_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2350379498333728810</id><published>2009-06-29T10:04:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T10:04:33.485-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Here are some truths about me…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;As of right now I am planning on being a business major… but I still have to apply to the program. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am also premed, which means I am taking lots of science classes that don’t really go along with my major. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I love to ballroom dance, and I wish that I had more opportunity to go dancing. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I hate it when the shower curtain is closed, because I have a fear that someone is going to be standing behind it… &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;My car and my bedroom are usually a mess, I wish I had more time to keep them organized. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am not very good about studying, but this fall semester I am planning on going to the library everyday after work so I won’t be distracted by my computer or TV. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;Thinking about the future overwhelms me. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I actually like going to church every Sunday, even though sometimes I complain about going. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I like to go to public places and just watch people… Its funny the things that people do when they don’t know somebody is watching. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I love to sing, although I am not very good at it. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I am teaching myself how to play the piano, I haven’t taken lesson since I was 8. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I like to read, but I have a hard time finding time to sit down and actually get into a book. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I really like photography, and would like to buy a professional camera. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I procrastinate way too much, sometimes it takes me forever to get things done if I’m not given a deadline. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I like science classes, they just make sense. English on the other hand doesn’t make any sense. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I like doing things for others, and I rarely say no when it comes to helping someone out, even if it means I won’t get something done for me that needs to be done. &lt;/li&gt;    &lt;li&gt;I have to give a talk on “Truth” in two weeks, and I don’t know where to start. Any ideas would definitely be helpful. &lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2350379498333728810?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2350379498333728810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2350379498333728810&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2350379498333728810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2350379498333728810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/06/truth.html' title='Truth'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7401853448827605623</id><published>2009-06-02T11:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T11:08:04.576-06:00</updated><title type='text'>21 day challenge is over…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;For the last 21 days I have been doing this “21-day challenge” for work. It included cutting meat from my diet, cutting out any processed sugars, exercising, meditation, and drinking Zrii. I can’t&amp;#160; believe how much of a difference those changes have made. I don’t feel as sick to my stomach as often, my skin is starting to look more clear (It wasn’t very bad in the first place) but I am definitely noticing some differences. I think that I will stick to eating this way for a while.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Crazy idea… The girl that I sit next to at work asked me if I wanted to do a relay with her and a bunch of other people next June. I have a list of things that I want to do before I die, and run a marathon is one of them. I think that it will be fun, and it will be a good motivation to start getting active again. The relay is a 186 mile run between 12 people. Each person will run 3 different legs of the race. It starts in Logan, goes down to Heber, and then up to Park City. The goal is to it within a 24 hour period. I am officially going to start training for this now, so I can do it next summer without dying. Since I am going to be in shape, I figure I will probably do the Salt Lake City Marathon next year too(That was Courtney’s idea). I’m actually really excited about it. The first couple weeks of training are going to be the hardest, after that everything will get easier. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I have to leave for work right now, I will update more later. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7401853448827605623?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7401853448827605623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7401853448827605623&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7401853448827605623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7401853448827605623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/06/21-day-challenge-is-over.html' title='21 day challenge is over…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-4153609432559267598</id><published>2009-05-12T23:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:42:40.454-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching up… Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;These last two weeks have been super crazy. I took an extension for my chemistry class, and I thought that the deadline was the end of may... I was wrong, the deadline was May 1st. Of course I procrastinated, and didn't realize that the deadline was coming up until April 24th. I seriously studied the entire weekend. (I wasn't going to study at all on Sundays, but this was an exception.) I went in on Monday and took the first test I needed to take. 91% without the curve. I guess all of that studying paid off. I was supposed to take the final the following Wednesday... I would have failed, but my teacher went ahead and gave me a little more time before I have to take the test.    &lt;br /&gt;I started my spring classes (Physics and a Physics lab) My lab is before my lecture, so sometimes it is pretty hard to keep up with what is going on in lab. I feel bad for the people who have to put up with me... after a lot of the equations I have to ask, why do we do that? Where do we get that equation. I am glad that people are so patient... I'm not stupid, I just haven't learned this yet. Then when lecture comes around, everything makes so much more sense. I take my lecture up in Salt Lake, the class is supposed to be easier up there. I will find out on Tuesday when I take my first test. My teacher up there is this old guy that will make a joke, and then he has this grin... you can tell that he is so proud of himself when he makes some people in the class laugh. The class isn't too hard, and there isn't any homework.     &lt;br /&gt;Scott left on Wednesday morning (May 6th)... so I have spent a lot of time with him the last couple of weeks. Which was good and bad. I love spending time with him, but now I am not sure what to do with my time... I didn't realize my lack of friends until now.&amp;#160; We spent some time with his family, playing card games and stuff. I used to win almost every time I played a game with them, but I think I got last place every game we played. Monday night I went out to eat with him and his family. I haven't ever been to Tepanyaki before, it was a lot of fun. &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SgpdvCBaViI/AAAAAAAAAHM/4THGBmr0kCI/s1600-h/dinner%5B1%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img title="dinner" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-bottom: 0px" height="184" alt="dinner" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/Sgpdv6NYuGI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/s5xaiftN5zM/dinner_thumb%5B1%5D.png?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/Sgpdwtt11EI/AAAAAAAAAHU/uYnyatXMPIA/s1600-h/dinner%202%5B1%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img title="dinner 2" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-bottom: 0px" height="184" alt="dinner 2" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SgpdxSrve5I/AAAAAAAAAHY/Q8PW3trAA6I/dinner%202_thumb%5B1%5D.png?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Then we went bowling... I thought&amp;#160; I was going to get a better score then him and his family. I came out in second. The second game I didn't do very good at all. It was still fun. &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SgpdyVjxZXI/AAAAAAAAAHc/AfaNdpEdTGA/s1600-h/bowling.png"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img title="bowling" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="184" alt="bowling" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SgpdzLFyYDI/AAAAAAAAAHg/nWMQUrIkcv8/bowling_thumb.png?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We got to say bye on Monday night because I wouldn't have a chance to see him on tueday before he got set apart. We both agreed we didn't want to say good-bye after he was set apart. So, Tuesday was a long day, and Wednesday morning he called me before he left.    &lt;br /&gt;I have gotten a little more sleep since he left. I don't really have anything else to do when I get back from school and work. It's been pretty rough... I didn't realize how much I talked to Scott on the phone, or texted him. I have picked up my phone like 100 times to call or text him, then I remember that I can't. I will probably get a letter from him in a couple days... I love letters.     &lt;br /&gt;Work. I have my up and down days at Zrii. One day I want to quit, then next I am totally fine with my job. Lately the calls have been kind of slow, and so we have been watching TV the last hour or so. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SgpdzRnuSEI/AAAAAAAAAHk/QciowpaD4-A/s1600-h/IMG00154%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="IMG00154" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="184" alt="IMG00154" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/Sgpdz-IuL3I/AAAAAAAAAHo/jm417Cg3tU8/IMG00154_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The first week in June we are having a convention in Salt Lake, Tony Robbins, Deepak Chopra, and Ali Larter are all going to be there. It is pretty exciting. The 21 days leading up to convention we are doing a &amp;quot;21 day challenge&amp;quot;. We are supposed to do some breathing exercises, and meditation, along with eating better and 15 min of exercise, and of course Zrii. I guess we will see how that goes. I am kinda excited to see if it makes a difference. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I just got a calling today too… I am the publicity co-chair. This will be fun.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-4153609432559267598?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/4153609432559267598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=4153609432559267598&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4153609432559267598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/4153609432559267598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/05/catching-up-again.html' title='Catching up… Again'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/Sgpdv6NYuGI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/s5xaiftN5zM/s72-c/dinner_thumb%5B1%5D.png?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7956785409339918802</id><published>2009-04-17T11:35:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T11:35:35.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'>April 16, 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Okay, so Wednesday I got a call from Kelci pretty close to midnight. She was bawling, and all she said was, “I don’t think I can do this.” I guess she was sideways in the middle of the road… I grabbed a sweatshirt and ran down the road to see if I could help her out. By the time I got to her she managed to get the car partway into somebody’s driveway. I tried to back out, but the only thing that would happen is we would slide sideways. If we slid anymore than we would hit the persons mail box. We decided to leave the car, put a note on the persons doorstep letting them know that we would pick up the car tomorrow. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We got home and my mom came downstairs and asked where the car was, we told her, and then we made some hot chocolate, and watched a movie. Part of a movie, we ended up being too tired to finish it. We actually went to bed around 2 or so. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;At 7 I woke up to go shovel the driveway… 2 feet of snow. I hate shoveling. Then my mom came with me to go pick up her car. Brother Andrews was nice enough to bring his four wheeler to plow the way so we could back up. Thanks. As soon as I got home I climbed back into bed. I was so tired. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When I got back from work I went straight to bed. I have been so stinkin tired lately I can barely handle it. I slept until 11 and Scott came and got me for a midnight movie. We saw state of play… I think that was what it was called. I think I was too tired to understand. At least it was entertaining… until I got confused. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I also called the court today. I swear a bunch of idiots work there. I told them that the person that I talked to couldn’t find my ticket, and they said the police officer must have misplaced the ticket. She informed me that it was against their policy to say that the police officer might have misplaced it. If I knew that I had a ticket I would have paid it, I’m not stupid.&amp;#160; I asked why I never received notice that they issued a warrant. She didn’t have an answer for me. Then she said that I was good to go, my taxes covered my ticket and bail… My letter says that if I don’t show up in court that they will reissue a warrant. I asked her, and she said that they wouldn’t. I am going to call back in a couple days to double check to make sure that another warrant isn’t going to be issued if i don’t come in. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7956785409339918802?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7956785409339918802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7956785409339918802&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7956785409339918802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7956785409339918802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-16-2009.html' title='April 16, 2009'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7781898617616781608</id><published>2009-04-15T22:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T22:47:05.486-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;What is wrong with these pictures?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;   &lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:66721397-FF69-4ca6-AEC4-17E6B3208830:afd41ceb-57fe-47e3-90d3-658d5432e67f" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;a style="border:0px" href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!128&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px" alt="View SNOW IN APRIL" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/Sea4RabBUQI/AAAAAAAAAG8/9xxjYKvd7I0/InlineRepresentation1934fefa-efef-4003-853c-eae78d2e5a80.jpg?imgmax=800" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="width:340px;text-align:right;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!128&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;View Full Album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;IT IS THE MIDDLE OF APRIL. It definitely shouldn’t be snowing in the middle of April. Rain I can handle, but I thought that I was done having to deal with the snow until next winter. I hate scraping off my car, and I hate driving in the snow, just so everyone knows, Jetta's are the worst possible car to drive in the snow.&amp;#160;&amp;#160; I am surprised that I am still alive. I have been patient, and I was fine with the snow through most of March, but April? Seriously?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;On a better note, it looks like I might be getting my old job back. The one that I absolutely love. I got an email from one of the supervisors with some incentive stuff! YAY! I used to love going to work, I don’t HATE it right now, but I would love to go back to doing the incentives for the call center. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I also got to go out to eat with my mom and Kelci. I am pretty sure we brought home more food than we ate while we were there. When we first walked in I saw an old friend, that I haven’t seen in a while. He was with his girl friend, and considering the fact that we kinda dated in high school I decided to act like I didn’t see him. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/Sea4RyN0RlI/AAAAAAAAAHA/mAcotwAuiek/s1600-h/IMG00136%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="IMG00136" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="184" alt="IMG00136" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/Sea4SF6M-cI/AAAAAAAAAHE/bHSCVuYQcy8/IMG00136_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It is kind of a dark picture, but it isn’t too bad considering it is taken with my phone.&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Then I got home to find a letter from the Department of Administrative Services for the State of Utah. I guess I won’t be getting my state tax return this year. Apparently there was a warrant out for my arrest. Goodness, they could have at least let me know. I got a ticket like 2 years ago, and they said to wait 14 days to get in in the system before I could pay it. I called 14 days later to make a payment, and they said they didn’t have it in the computer, and that I should wait 5 more days and call in. I called in again and they said they had no record of the ticket, and it doesn’t take that long to get a ticket into the system. It probably wasn’t turned in… okay, that’s fine, I don’t mind not having the ticket on my record. That is the only reason I could think of why there would be a warrant out for my arrest. I guess I fit in with Jason and my Dad now, since they have both had multiple warrants.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-7781898617616781608?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7781898617616781608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7781898617616781608&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7781898617616781608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7781898617616781608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/04/seriously.html' title='Seriously'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/Sea4RabBUQI/AAAAAAAAAG8/9xxjYKvd7I0/s72-c/InlineRepresentation1934fefa-efef-4003-853c-eae78d2e5a80.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-325801567365372415</id><published>2009-04-11T13:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T13:40:15.488-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all gone!</title><content type='html'>I got home from work on Thursday night, open up my computer, and a message comes up saying that Windows was deleted from my computer to insert the disk to re-install it. SERIOUSLY? I called HP and they took down all of my information asked me a bunch of questions about my computer, what the message said... Then they say "We would love to help you with your problem, it will cost you $99 for a years subscription for phone support". I was so mad, I don't want to have to pay 100 dollars for my stupid computer. I ended up paying for it. Then they had me run a test on my computer. The verdict? I just had to restore the computer to it's original state... which means that I lost EVERYTHING, and I paid 100 bucks for something that I could have done for myself for free. Thanks a lot HP support! At least I still have a working computer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-325801567365372415?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/325801567365372415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=325801567365372415&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/325801567365372415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/325801567365372415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-all-gone.html' title='It&apos;s all gone!'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3835669486359148037</id><published>2009-03-29T15:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T15:48:11.517-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Overnight with the Young Women</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Friday I got to go up to the Sherwood Hills Resort with the young women in my ward. The Young Womens President owns it, and it was closed down for the winter. Which means we pretty much had the hotel completely to ourselves. A whole hotel to yourself, how much better could life get? Anyway, it was a lot of fun. The resort is in a canyon, somewhere around Brigham City. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We got there, unloaded our stuff, and got a tour of the hotel. Michelle showed us the cool suites and stuff. The spa, and the pool. When that was all said and done, we got to make pizzas. It was a lot of fun. I was surprised how easy it was to satisfy 16 people while making the pizzas. After dinner most of the girls went swimming. I didn’t bring my swimming suit, but I went down and watched. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After the girls got out of the hot tub we all went and watched parts of a John Bytheway DVD. It was pretty good, I really like John Bytheway, he is a good speaker. After that me and Kelci went to our room and she wanted to go to bed. I wasn’t very tired and so I stayed up to study for a while. My mom came in to go to bed around 2:00, so I decided it might be a good idea for me to get some sleep too… wow, I forgot that my mom snores. I didn’t realize that she was almost as bad as my dad was. I kept thinking “I will give her five more minutes” She wouldn’t stop snoring, so I would start getting out of bed so I could tap her and tell her to roll over or something. But of course the second I sat up she would stop snoring. I would lay back down and she would start up again. I ended up out in the hall doing some more Chemistry. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The next day we got a full on breakfast, eggs, french toast, hash browns, sausage, bacon, cinnamon rolls, juice… the works. The girls went sledding in the 4 ft of snow. My mom ended up hurting her knee pretty bad. I stayed in my hotel room and studied…I was very productive, probably because there wasn’t anyone or anything to distract me. The girls came back, we ate a late lunch while watching Twilight. We all got ready and then we headed to SLC. We got to the Conference Center, and our seats were way up on the balcony. It was a pretty good, I actually think that I enjoy the Relief Society’s better. We met up with Amy and Ellie afterwards for a couple minutes.&amp;#160; Then we joined our ward at Sweet Tomato for dinner.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I am so glad to be home… sleeping in my own bed without the sound of snoring… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3835669486359148037?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3835669486359148037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3835669486359148037&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3835669486359148037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3835669486359148037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/03/overnight-with-young-women.html' title='Overnight with the Young Women'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-6183131459701867903</id><published>2009-03-27T14:13:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T14:13:16.413-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Day…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I almost cried today at work… not tears of sadness, but tears of joy. I have been struggling quite a bit at work with my supervisor. It isn’t that I don’t like her, she is hilarious. I just&amp;#160; think that she likes to be in control of ALL situations. Even situations that she isn’t involved in. I will be on the phone and she will ask me to take a call. I kill myself at work because I am CONSTANTLY busy. She also will tell me to take a phone call right after I hang up with someone… I usually say one sec let me put in a note… then she says but it is in overflow (the call has waited 1 minute) really, my note will take me 15 seconds. Then when I do what she tells me and skip making the notes on the account I get in trouble, there is no way to win.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;These are my favorite responses that she gives me:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Just because I don’t look busy doesn’t mean that I’m not” ummm…. okay?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Absolutely not” This is her response when another department has asked for my help with something. I never ask if I can help another department unless calls are slow… but I guess I should just sit and do nothing… so much more productive.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When I have someone demanding to talk to my supervisor, “Let me just put notes on this account” She isn’t very fast at typing and half of the time I can’t understand her notes anyway. I tell her that all the time, but does it matter when I am leaving notes… nope, only when she is. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;She is from India, and she has an accent and hasn’t quite mastered English grammatically. I really wouldn’t mind her if she wasn’t telling me what to do every second of the day. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This is when the crying comes in… We were in a team meeting and she had news to tell us. She is switching departments and in two weeks she will no longer be my supervisor. What? Seriously? I walked back onto the call floor and said… “Now I don’t have to quit… I was this close” I already started working on my resume. I started laughing… this was AWESOME! I looked at Joce and she was laughing too , which made me laugh harder… Soon tears were streaming down my face. Yes, this is how happy I am that my supervisor isn’t going to be my supervisor for long.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-6183131459701867903?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/6183131459701867903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=6183131459701867903&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6183131459701867903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6183131459701867903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-day.html' title='Happy Day…'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2052792002308345510</id><published>2009-03-26T00:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T00:48:45.749-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I have another friend going to Japan on his mission.</title><content type='html'>I was invited over to one of my friends house's because he got his mission call today. We all had to write our guess to where they were going to go. My guess was Japan... lucky me I was right. Here was my logic. Scott is going to Japan, and with my luck Michael will get called to the same place as Scott. This would make Scott insanely jealous... So he opened up his misssion call... it isn't the same mission as Scott, but the one south of it. I am super excited that he gets to go to Japan, and I am relieved that he and Scott weren't called to the same area. Congratulations Michael!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2052792002308345510?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2052792002308345510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2052792002308345510&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2052792002308345510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2052792002308345510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-have-another-friend-going-to-japan-on.html' title='I have another friend going to Japan on his mission.'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3411979131666627771</id><published>2009-03-24T00:17:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T00:17:00.395-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Couch</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I bought a couch… it was delivered on Saturday. I love it! It is the perfect place for me to sprawl out and do homework, or blog, or sleep… Life can’t get much better than having a good couch to lounge around on.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It is sad when the most exciting thing about your life is your couch. Oh well.&amp;#160; :) &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I finished another chapter in my Chemistry study… yay! only a million more to go. I really need to start getting on top of that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3411979131666627771?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3411979131666627771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3411979131666627771&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3411979131666627771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3411979131666627771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/03/couch.html' title='Couch'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-6772012331832117081</id><published>2009-03-22T15:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T16:23:10.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Party at Brooke’s house!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Okay, so about a month ago my aunt Brooke announced that she had found me a husband. Well, last night I met him for the first time. Brooke invited both of us over to make pizza. I walked in, got introduced to Derek (apparently he is my future husband… first impression, he was cuter than I thought he would be. Brooke’s description was he’s normal, he isn’t hideous or anything) and then I was called in to help with the food preparation (which I wasn’t very helpful. I took some cups off of the fridge, and put the bowl of dough on the table). We started making our pizza, sprinkles and all. Brooke’s neighbors  Amanda and Darrel came over with their kids to make some pizza. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While our pizzas were cooking we, meaning the adults, went in the other room to play Quiddler (right, Brooke?) I learned that Derek shouldn’t deal when we play cards… he dealt almost every hand… and I never had anything worth playing. Darrel even told his son (maybe 8 or 9 years old) that he should come over and help me. Thanks for your support. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We played another game where we had to have our partner guess two words by verbal clues, acting, or drawing. I don’t mean to brag, but I think that me and Derek did quite well at this. I don’t know what the end score was but we definitely beat Brooke and Andy.  The third game that we all played was interesting… I don’t know how to tell who won. But I did learn that I am skilled at drawing pictures on my head.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Amanda and Darrel left, it was getting late and they had to get there kids in bed. Lucy and Abby were put to bed (not that Lucy actually went to sleep). We talked for a couple of hours and then Derek left.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My thoughts on the night? It would be worth a second date. He’s a little bit older than I am, which isn’t really a problem for me… and whatever happens happens. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-6772012331832117081?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/6772012331832117081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=6772012331832117081&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6772012331832117081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/6772012331832117081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/03/party-at-brookes-house.html' title='Party at Brooke’s house!!'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3515752812264380741</id><published>2009-03-21T09:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T09:54:48.329-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Scott's Farwell is Tommorrow</title><content type='html'>I just want to let anyone know who might be interested in going.  It is tomorrow morning at 9:00. If you want to come, I am sure that Scott would love it. He doesn't leave for another month, but I am sure that he would appreciate it if you came (if you know him). Call or Text me if you would like directions to his church.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3515752812264380741?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3515752812264380741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3515752812264380741&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3515752812264380741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3515752812264380741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/03/scotts-farwell-is-tommorrow.html' title='Scott&apos;s Farwell is Tommorrow'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3448832784652941933</id><published>2009-03-12T22:25:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T22:25:31.165-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching up</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I just barely wrote&amp;#160; a huge post… then this stupid program decided to close… it doesn’t make me very happy. Here is the gist of what it said.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I really need to start buckling down. I want to eventually go to medical school, but at the rate I am going that isn’t going to be an option. I don’t have terrible grades, but they aren’t good enough to get into a good medical school. I need to start doing everything that I hate doing, like homework and studying. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I took this semester off, and extended some of my deadlines from classes I took last semester. So, I have been working, and doing a little of homework here and there. But I have developed some really bad habits, such as staying up late, being lazy… I haven’t really had to do much other than work, laundry, and sleep since January. I need to take two Chemistry tests before the end of May, and if I want to do well I am going to need to start studying soon. I know that may is a long way away, but I really don’t want to have to cram for my final.&amp;#160; This means that I am going to have to start going to bed earlier so I can get up earlier. If I am going to bed earlier than I will have to cut back on the amount of time I will be hanging out with people. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I am taking classes spring term at BYU, so that will be in a month and a half. I am so excited to get back to class. I enjoy going to my classes, and I like being on Campus, it is a fun school to go to. I don’t look forward to the homework though. It seems like I can never get it done when I am at home. There is always something going on when I am trying to be productive. My mom and my little sister can be really distracting sometimes. I think that I will make it a goal to spend more time this semester at the library studying. More time at the library = better grades… at least I am hoping the two go hand in hand. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;More news… Allison is engaged. I think that some of you know who she is, she was my roommate from last year (…unofficially). She will be getting married in the Mt. Timpanogos Temple towards the end of June. She is one of the last of my friends to get married. Every time a wedding comes up I can’t believe how old I am. Not that I am old…I just can’t believe I am old enough to have friends that are married… old enough that I could get married. SCARY!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I didn’t ever get to post about the Jazz game that me and Kelci went to last week. It was a lot of fun. My work gave me two tickets to the Jazz vs. the Rockets. We got fed dinner, and then to get to our seats we went all the way down to the floor level. The seats were amazing… 2nd row, which is more like the 5th row. They are probably the best seats that I will ever get to sit in. Here is what I learned.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;1) Basketball players are HUGE!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;2) Yoa Ming is Ugly, and awkward&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;3) Sports are so much better in person&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;4) When you sit that close to the court you really can smell the sweat&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;5) It was fun hanging out with Kelci at the game&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;6) President Uchtdorf likes the Jazz, and he had better seats than we did. (I zoomed in one of the pictures, which were taken on my phone and not very good quality. At the beginning of the game I leaned over and said that old guy over there looks like Uchtdorf… then at about half time I realized it really was him.)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:66721397-FF69-4ca6-AEC4-17E6B3208830:da3e2ffa-7dec-49c5-9083-cb35dfd9d4e2" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;a style="border:0px" href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!120&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px" alt="View Jazz Game" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SbngOovrVGI/AAAAAAAAAFw/0j5z7Vq_gdU/InlineRepresentation36f4832d-30f5-4568-8c28-0a43dd9e96b0.jpg?imgmax=800" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="width:340px;text-align:right;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://cid-ffb691b615db6d61.skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?page=browse&amp;amp;resid=FFB691B615DB6D61!120&amp;amp;ct=photos"&gt;View Full Album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt;That catches you up on the most recent events.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3448832784652941933?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3448832784652941933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3448832784652941933&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3448832784652941933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3448832784652941933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/03/catching-up.html' title='Catching up'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SbngOovrVGI/AAAAAAAAAFw/0j5z7Vq_gdU/s72-c/InlineRepresentation36f4832d-30f5-4568-8c28-0a43dd9e96b0.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-2404483170667087243</id><published>2009-03-01T23:52:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T23:53:45.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another blogger in the family?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.kelciraye.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kelci has a blog!! Thanks to me. :)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-2404483170667087243?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/2404483170667087243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=2404483170667087243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2404483170667087243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/2404483170667087243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/03/another-blogger-in-family.html' title='Another blogger in the family?'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1587689122538563041</id><published>2009-02-27T04:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T04:10:23.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What happens when both amber and kelci are up at 3:00 am</title><content type='html'>We go to the gym... we might not be able to get up early to go the the gym... but we can go early in the morning if we don't ever go to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1587689122538563041?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1587689122538563041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1587689122538563041&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1587689122538563041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1587689122538563041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-happens-when-both-amber-and-kelci.html' title='What happens when both amber and kelci are up at 3:00 am'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-1866694103639373224</id><published>2009-02-26T22:38:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T22:59:24.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You could have just asked...</title><content type='html'>This is for my family, because I am sure that most of my friends wouldn't really care to much. I am kind of curious what everyone is thinking though. I am sure that most of you know that something is going on with my dad... and I am sure that you have your theories about it. I am sorry that I haven't responded to Amy's question about my dad having an apartment. Yes, he has an apartment. He and Tracy have gotten divorced, and the boys are living with her. My dad (more like I) get to have the boys every other weekend. I wasn't exactly sure what I was allowed to say before, but I figured that there are probably a lot of weird theories about what was going on. I know that Tracy was really stressed about work... and my dad... well, he's Brett. So things weren't working out too well between them. No cheating was involved, or any other things you might have been thinking. If you want to know more, you can always ask. Just give me a call, if you don't have my number you can email me or get it from Brooke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note. I am sure that many of you who have attended &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BYU&lt;/span&gt; can relate to the pain I will be experiencing tonight. I am taking my American Heritage final tomorrow. I have been quite the slacker and I have a 4 page paper due tomorrow as well. I will be pulling an all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nighter&lt;/span&gt;. I remember when pulling an all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nighter&lt;/span&gt; was cool, but that was back in the day when I didn't have to go into work, and I was able to take a nap the next day. I am dreading this test and I am pretty worried about how well I will do on it, so if you will please remember me and my test in your prayers... I will need them. Okay, you don't really have to pray that I will do okay on my test, but at least wish me luck. Right now I am procrastinating my studying. I should be doing some sort of studying or research for my paper. But here I am blogging about my dad, and how bad I will do on my test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ZRII&lt;/span&gt;... I never really told exactly what happened with work. It was all really sketchy and a lot of legal stuff was happening during my last post about work and so I was able to say much. But here is the story. There were 7 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;VPs&lt;/span&gt; in the company (Tracy being the VP of Marketing) and they decided that they didn't like the way that Bill (The CEO) was running things. So they decided that they would resign and give Bill the option of selling the company to them. Bill is a very stubborn person, and this was the company that he started and funded from his own pocket. He decided to accept their resignation, and keep the company and run it himself. Well, everyone walked out with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;VPs&lt;/span&gt; (except for customer service) My department had to manage everything for a couple days without the rest of the company. They didn't tell us what was going on they told us that everyone else was at an off site meeting. So, we had callers calling in and asking us about commissions, compliance, sales, everything. We no longer had anyone in any of those departments so we ended up putting things off. Things are finally starting to get back to normal, and we are slowly hiring people to fill all of the departments. We are behind on a lot of commissions, and compliance problems, but things are starting to look up. Bill offered everyone who stayed a $1000 bonus if we stayed till the end of the month. These last two weeks have been easier, but the first two weeks were extremely hard to get through. It still isn't as fun as it used to be but we are getting through it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jocelynn&lt;/span&gt; has stuck it out too... it is kind of fun working with her. I  think this is the simplest way to explain what happened, and for the most part it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;accurate&lt;/span&gt;, depending on whose story you are trying to tell. I think this is the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;unbias&lt;/span&gt; way to tell it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-1866694103639373224?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/1866694103639373224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=1866694103639373224&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1866694103639373224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/1866694103639373224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-could-have-just-asked.html' title='You could have just asked...'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-8660955858252139208</id><published>2009-02-25T10:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T10:46:38.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have been quite the slacker when it comes to blogging.</title><content type='html'>I started to write a blog about everything I have been up to lately... and well I got stuck after 4 sentences. I guess I will have to be creative and blog about something other than my life. Lessons I have learned this past couple weeks.&lt;br /&gt;1) The importance of static guard when wearing nylons&lt;br /&gt;2)Never rely on stealing your sisters clothes after she goes to work, she might wear what you were planning on stealing&lt;br /&gt;3) I am amazing at playing pool&lt;br /&gt;4) Some people can't dance&lt;br /&gt;5) "It isn't your dress unless you cry when you put it on"&lt;br /&gt;6) Don't go on dates with people you meet online... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ha ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) I love the scriptures!!&lt;br /&gt;8) Get your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ecclesiastical&lt;/span&gt; endorsement done earlier than the week before it is due.&lt;br /&gt;9) Talk to your professors when you need help in a class&lt;br /&gt;10) Don't leave your debit card in the ATM for longer than a minute, otherwise it gets sucked in and shredded... poor debit card&lt;br /&gt;11) Without a debit card I spend a lot less money.&lt;br /&gt;12) American Heritage isn't a very fun class&lt;br /&gt;13) Me and Kelci won't ever be able to wake up early to go to the gym&lt;br /&gt;14) I am not very good about keeping up with my laundry&lt;br /&gt;15) Work really isn't that bad&lt;br /&gt;16) Chuck is actually a really funny show&lt;br /&gt;17) Heroes is actually a really entertaining show&lt;br /&gt;18) Don't let Eli borrow DVDs they will come back scratched&lt;br /&gt;19) New tennis shoes hurt&lt;br /&gt;20) The bishop secretly wants me to stay in the family ward, cause he won't tell me what time the ward I am supposed to be going to starts&lt;br /&gt;21) I am not very good at taking pictures... and I think my camera sucks&lt;br /&gt;22) I can make my own car payment... but I appreciate my dad paying for it for so long. :)&lt;br /&gt;23) I am running out of single friends&lt;br /&gt;24) My moms face &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;moisturizer&lt;/span&gt; smells like old people&lt;br /&gt;25) I hate the word moist&lt;br /&gt;26) Jessica is still alive... I haven't talked to her in forever&lt;br /&gt;27) Natalie is also alive... I haven't talked to her in even longer&lt;br /&gt;28) Mothers have much better things to blog about than I do&lt;br /&gt;29) I forgot how much I like ice cream... but after I eat it I am always way cold&lt;br /&gt;30) There is a huge diffence of gas consumed when I drive 70 vs. driving 80&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure that I learned other things but I can't really think of them right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-8660955858252139208?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/8660955858252139208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=8660955858252139208&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8660955858252139208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8660955858252139208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-have-been-quite-slacker-when-it-comes.html' title='I have been quite the slacker when it comes to blogging.'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-3615049353693345515</id><published>2009-02-21T22:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T22:37:20.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My life is pretty much a bad musical...</title><content type='html'>That is what I decided today. My mom, Bryce and I were all sitting in our front room eating dessert when I started to sing a song. It is the song that always gets stuck in my head and my mom doesn't really like it, and usually gets mad at me for singing it. So I decided to sing the little mermaid song to get the other song out of my head. Kelci ends up walking through the door, and her and my mom soon join in. Soon we are all singing at the top of our lungs the little mermaid song, which none of us really know the words to. What can you do when you can't sing louder? Dance. Bryce soon joins in and we are all singing and dancing in our front room. Our street isn't usually too busy but, I turned around and look out the window to find someone driving down our street. He is going slow and must be looking for an address. I think that he is the only witness to our life as a musical. It was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;The reason my life is a bad musical is because I got stuck with my dad's musical talent...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-3615049353693345515?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/3615049353693345515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=3615049353693345515&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3615049353693345515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/3615049353693345515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-life-is-pretty-much-bad-musical.html' title='My life is pretty much a bad musical...'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-8186433325417279013</id><published>2009-02-15T20:38:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T20:56:09.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Valentines Day</title><content type='html'>I got to spend my Valentines day with Chase, Connor, and Scott. I was pretty tired, I had a late night on Friday. We went out to lunch with my dad, and then we hung out at my dad's apartment for a while. I forget how cute Connor is sometimes. He isn't as persistant as he used to be, which is good. He says please, and thank you about everything. He doesn't whine about things unless Chase is bothering him. Which happens too often. I just hope my kids are like Connor. He is so easy to take care of, he will just come sit on my lap and read books. I asked him if he wanted to go to bed, and he told me he didn't want to. I put on his pajamas and he said, "okay, amber. I want to go bed now" I tucked him in, and he didn't get out of bed. It was awesome. Chase on the other hand, I tucked in and he got out of bed. I went in and told him to get into his bed and he cried, told me how mean I was. A while later I heard him messing around again... it was a while before he actually fell asleep. Then me and Scott got to watch a couple episodes of Heroes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2834848494567137876-8186433325417279013?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/8186433325417279013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=8186433325417279013&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8186433325417279013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/8186433325417279013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-valentines-day.html' title='My Valentines Day'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2834848494567137876.post-7846207111103025896</id><published>2009-02-12T16:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T16:43:02.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scott got his mission call!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SZSz5YtjT4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/BVAK0QX-jW8/s1600-h/Japan.png"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you have any questions about who Scott is feel free to send me an email, and I can fill you in on that. He got his mission call last night, and it was the place that he has been dying to go. He is going to Sapporo Japan. That is the northern part of Japan, and I guess that it gets really cold there in the winter. Sometimes they have up to 15 ft of snow at a time. His uncle served there, and he told us a little about the area where Scott will be serving. It is pretty exciting, and he will be going into the MTC a week after the semester is over (May 6th). &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/2834848494567137876-7846207111103025896?l=amberbero.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/feeds/7846207111103025896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2834848494567137876&amp;postID=7846207111103025896&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7846207111103025896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2834848494567137876/posts/default/7846207111103025896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amberbero.blogspot.com/2009/02/scott-got-his-mission-call.html' title='Scott got his mission call!!'/><author><name>Amber Nicole</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xEKye6LnjRI/SOhQV5xMmLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sZ-sA19hods/S220/Amberbero.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
