<?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-2564147150092597487</id><updated>2012-01-05T17:38:27.479-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lon and Ellie</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>208</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3760079727773198710</id><published>2011-07-03T10:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T10:33:24.081-05:00</updated><title type='text'>almost the 4th</title><content type='html'>God, I am so tired. Its kind of hard to enjoy these holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young..it was all..what's the big deal? Now its like I have to make an effort to show the kids a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God, we've got friends who we can share this with. So we are going to a cook out. Except not at our place. Ellie says she's done enough in the kitchen this week, making jam. And I've been hinting how we should give this and that jam too. Then she goes and says..she'll have to make more. So I keep reminding her..but there are no more berries..not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I'm good and bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Charlie is just bad Charlie these days. Can't go a day with Hannah not fussing about something with him. I keep thinking she'll wake me up in the middle of the night and tell me she's had enough. That she wants to go home. But she hasn't yet. She seems to have invested most of her summer with Shelby down the street and the boy across the way. I have a feeling they have their own 90210 going on that we will never quite get the jest of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie wants me to talk to Charlie. I think we've talked tell I'm blue in the face about his behavior. Of course, Ellie goes a step further..about how do you expect to get a job one day if you talk like that. Granted, I don't get as many fowl words from his vocabulary as much as Ellie and Hannah do. According to Hannah..BRAIN CRAMPS is a bad word. And SHUT UP is on the list too. Yes, I can see why he says GOD DAMNIT a lot. I do too. There are worse things to say. Not like I'm saying it at every turn. But you know, I'm working on my truck, a wrench gets in the way the wrong way..and it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are still not sure how he came up with UCK U. But who knows, he could have heard Hannah's friend say it. Maybe even Shelby or somebody in her family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Charlie has his issues. They play out. Then he's fine. He's ALL BOY. According to my Mom, my worst tantrums were always in Wal-Mart. Hard to believe she ever shopped there because she's definitely the upscale type, but I guess she went there with me..because no one would know her. Usually, I had tangents over Ninja Turtles. I would threaten to run away, or call her the worst mother in the world. And I liked to kick her in my little cowboy boots that she hated my father so much..who would send the boots to us..because..he didn't want me to forget I was in Texas and not a Dallas city boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been through these fits before with Charlie. Early on, he was going to butt his head on the wall when he didn't get his way. Soon enough, he was getting a pillow to soften the blow. But we can't spend all our time on him when the baby is just getting around. She doesn't need to be influenced by this. And I know Charlie loves the baby. He's a wonderful big brother to Zoe. Most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3760079727773198710?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3760079727773198710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3760079727773198710' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3760079727773198710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3760079727773198710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/07/almost-4th.html' title='almost the 4th'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4334098971545748924</id><published>2011-06-28T15:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T15:38:54.331-05:00</updated><title type='text'>berry picking time</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SH0uhBn4dUE/Tgo36_L23eI/AAAAAAAAB_E/PsclS-gAiC4/s1600/raspberries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SH0uhBn4dUE/Tgo36_L23eI/AAAAAAAAB_E/PsclS-gAiC4/s400/raspberries.jpg" width="366" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;raspberries&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7F8ImMiirpo/Tgo4HVyDk9I/AAAAAAAAB_I/xdSN6RVl3Zw/s1600/blackberriesss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7F8ImMiirpo/Tgo4HVyDk9I/AAAAAAAAB_I/xdSN6RVl3Zw/s400/blackberriesss.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;blackberries&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made one pie already from the raspberries and blackberries in the back yard. We have a great season for berries. Unfortunately, a horrid time with mosquitoes too, due to the flooding on the Missouri river too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lnggcxmNCP1qzn55no1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lnggcxmNCP1qzn55no1_500.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://brianpope.tumblr.com/"&gt;Brian Pope tumblr&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been stormy, humid and some un-easy times, lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to usually wait until the kids are in bed before we go and pick berries. The days are long. On so many levels. Having to put up with Charlie, who is all boy. I'm beginning to think I know why Lonnie let Charlie go on that pony. I'm pretty sure Charlie put up such a fuss that Lonnie gave in. And I feel really horrible accusing him, like I did, that he didn't love Charlie enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie is pretty honary (as they call it). Just plain stubborn. He has such fits. And he's so strong. We try to talk it through, all the time. He pouts. He throws things. He hits. But not all the time. At least no biting. (He bit me really bad last fall when he thought he was a werewolf) Just when you think you have it nipped in the bud, he right back to doing something he did months ago. Yet he can be so loving. He loves Hannah so much who he's re-named LeeLee since he says Hannah's name as if he's referring to her butt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, summer is taking a toll on me. I just hope I can live through this with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fh8djQZba50/TgNPbNeyqJI/AAAAAAAADM8/GcbpU13iKq0/s1600/fort+calhoun+hi+res+june+14th+2011+photo+AP+Nati+Harnik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="261" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fh8djQZba50/TgNPbNeyqJI/AAAAAAAADM8/GcbpU13iKq0/s400/fort+calhoun+hi+res+june+14th+2011+photo+AP+Nati+Harnik.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we are a little worried about the nuclear plant up stream. We have another one down stream that had shut down completely on the Missouri river. Hopefully, we are safe.&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lngeb3HN0W1qbu57oo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="277" src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lngeb3HN0W1qbu57oo1_500.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://steveandel.tumblr.com/"&gt;Steve Andel tumblr&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4334098971545748924?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4334098971545748924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4334098971545748924' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4334098971545748924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4334098971545748924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/06/berry-picking-time.html' title='berry picking time'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SH0uhBn4dUE/Tgo36_L23eI/AAAAAAAAB_E/PsclS-gAiC4/s72-c/raspberries.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-9193578849160343876</id><published>2011-06-14T13:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T13:22:59.962-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lazy days of summer</title><content type='html'>Its so damn humid. What a summer we are having. The creeks are swelling just as much as the river. People are sandbagging for the worse. Of course, when we were back in Texas it was pretty dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we have all survived Charlie's little&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/search?q=charlie+pony"&gt; incident&lt;/a&gt; now. His arm is practically heeled. And it hasn't slowed him down, one bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I'm not saying he plays well with others. And I can see when he gets on Hannah's nerves, sometimes. She doesn't like putting up with him. And he pouts about in the yard, but he's at least behaving himself. Its just, he really thinks he's so grown up sometime, then he can turn around and do this little stomp. See, Charlie likes to curse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie, thinks he got it from me. But seriously, I don't do that. Not anymore. Sometimes, I have to wonder if its just this natural occurrence in boys. He just picks up on certain words. I have to wonder if he could care&lt;br /&gt;less of the meaning of them. Just the sound of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see. He loves the word HORNY. And as much as we tell him to quit saying the word, he wants to say it more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I heard him other day say.."Aw Fuck!" I did not say that to him. I swear it wasn't me. And he's saying this out on the driveway, barefooted. Staring at his feet. I'm wondering if he thinks 'fuck' has to do with feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie was so funny. The way she put her fists on her waist walked over to him as if she wash his mouth out with soap, any second. "What did you say?" He sulked a little and went off to play with some wooden blocks my Dad gave him. He doesn't actually play with them. Charlie throws them. After Ellie went to check on Chloe in her stroller, he starts throwing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I have to get after him. "Why are you doing that?" Naturally, he doesn't have an answer for me. Its all this angst. He's having to be on this little island, far away from Hannah, while she's off with Shelby and some kid across the street. He just can't stand it. So he acts like he going to do something. Like play with his truck or something. But no, he goes back to throwing those blocks as hard as he can. Next thing I know, he's screaming like somebody ran over him. He hit his big toe with one of those blocks. And I know it doesn't look good. That toenail is showing something ugly underneath it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So guess who has to get him to the emergency room. He's crying so bad. And I have to take it. I'm in pain too, just listening to him. Tears dripping down his face. Then he goes crazy again, when he sees we are in the emergency room. He fought me the whole way there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty angry. But I just hold on to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, they could have pricked the toenail to let out the blood, but I think the practitioner was afraid too. He got antibiotics, instead. I could just see a needle stuck in Charlie's toe. Lord knows, how he would have reacted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four hours later we are back home. I couldn't wait to go to bed. That took a lot out of me. But no, he wanted to sit in my lap. We both went to sleep watching Sponge Bob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I think Ellie and I seriously need a weekend away from the kids. I was so hoping that would happen while we were in Texas. I know Lonnie thinks I'm still mad at him about what happened to Charlie's arm when he fell off the pony. I should call him, let him know how Charlie is doing. Maybe Charlie is just accident proned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-9193578849160343876?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/9193578849160343876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=9193578849160343876' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/9193578849160343876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/9193578849160343876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/06/lazy-days-of-summer.html' title='lazy days of summer'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2210169146302673458</id><published>2011-05-26T12:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T12:09:38.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>how could I</title><content type='html'>I'm almost thinking I might need antidepressants to get through summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its tough. School is out. And Hannah is off with the kids in the neighborhood. Lon thinks I'm over reacting. But I don't want anything to happen to Hannah. I'm a little uneasy. If not that. Charlie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God....he got out yesterday. I see him across the street and he's acting like he is as old as they are. Following them around. Well, this girl who is about four going on 16, by the way she dresses, and flicks her hair behind her shoulder, just lets him follow her around, everywhere. Hannah is nowhere. Off on her bike with Caleb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I scare my mother this much when I was growing up? I want to pull my hair out. Its so hard, keeping up with those 2 and Zoe to care for. She likes to be held. But that's probably my fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, I guess I wanted a pity party. I dunno. I got into it with Lon. It wasn't about the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno why I brought it up. It was about Reese. Its been on my mind for a very long time now. And it made me cry. I shouldn't of asked.&amp;nbsp; But I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Is the only reason he's with me ..is..is because I make him think of Reese?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, how could I bring that up? How could I? I dunno. Things are a mess. And..and I just don't feel...like I'm me, anymore. Like I became someone else. I'm not like I was when we first met. You know, I felt certain about me. Then. Like I could do anything. And Lon..my God..I was ..possibly too crazy about him. He was just someone..who filled me with laughter. And seriously, I do love him. I count on him for so much. But I'm beginning to see..the way he counts on me, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I go and ask something like that? How could I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's mad at me now. He's not talking to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of me, thinks I should just stay here. Not go to Reese's wedding. But I want to get away from this too. I dunno how much more I can take of this. Worrying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't have said that to him. I shouldn't have. Why do I do these things? Its like I want him to be mad at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2210169146302673458?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2210169146302673458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2210169146302673458' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2210169146302673458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2210169146302673458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/05/how-could-i.html' title='how could I'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7841595993665381076</id><published>2011-05-17T08:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T11:56:07.449-05:00</updated><title type='text'>so it goes</title><content type='html'>I can see that Ellie is stressed. But I think things are going easier. Charlie got in his swimming lessons. Now Ellie has some down time with Zoe at the pool. I think its good for them to do this. Zoe didn't fight Ellie as much in the water as Charlie did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a handful. He's like a chunk of lead too. And he's all boy. Really. Rough and tough. Just this ball of energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School will be out within the week. And I think we are pretty settled how things are with Hannah and the neighborhood kids. They play a lot basketball in the neighbor's driveway. Sometimes, they ride their bikes, but its on our street. She doesn't go far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Ellie is OK with it. And she makes extra trips. Walks, that is, to the nearby playground with Charlie and Zoe, so everybody gets their sunshine. Although, its been pretty damn cold this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, we, Ellie and me have to find some time together. A date. Yeah, we should have those every Friday night. We talked about it. Still hadn't happened. I hope it can. If only we could find a babysitter. Not that we are out, all that late on a Friday night. Sometimes, I'm just too tired to do anything. Its my fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, we need some quiet time to talk about the trip. I want it to be a happy one.&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7841595993665381076?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7841595993665381076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7841595993665381076' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7841595993665381076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7841595993665381076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/05/so-it-goes.html' title='so it goes'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1738478322698101192</id><published>2011-04-30T22:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T08:32:12.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'>fast and the furious</title><content type='html'>OK, I feel frazzled after finding out about this trip to Texas. I have to keep thinking, it won't be so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, Hannah tells us where she's going. Who she's with. Although, I would love it if she had her own cell phone. Just to talk to us. No one else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how that works out.... Something really good can be so bad. I know she wouldn't want to talk to us. She'd want to be texting someone. Or they'd be texting her nonstop. I know its coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its weird seeing things through my mother's eyes now. But I was a lot older when I got a cell phone. Even then, it was one of those cheap ones. We still have the cheap kind. I'm not much on the phone, anyway. Not with these guys. Who has time to text when I'm chasing Charlie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Charlie. I hope we survive the summer. I'm just not sure how I'm going to keep him inside. Its like the holidays were just too busy to enjoy. Now the gas prices have gone up, again. I wonder how expensive this trip will get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least no tornadoes yet. I can't believe how awful the tornadoes have been here in the states. We had gusting winds yesterday that brought down plenty of leaves and limbs. A thunderstorm last night ..that amazingly ..we all slept through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1738478322698101192?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1738478322698101192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1738478322698101192' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1738478322698101192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1738478322698101192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/04/fast-and-furious.html' title='fast and the furious'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4067960054963709255</id><published>2011-04-24T08:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T08:56:06.101-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter bunny blues</title><content type='html'>Hannah's doing fine. I dunno why Ellie's so worried about Caleb. I mean, sure he's all boy and he likes to tease Hannah a little. Yet at the same time, I really think he'd look after her, too. I see that in him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far Easter has been a bright sunny day. Went to a sunrise church service. Yeah, what were we thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie does not like to leave the kids at the nursery. That might have helped if we had. But you know, its kind of odd, how you have to get this little pass saying you are so-in-so's Dad or Mom. And it was a huge amount of people. But Zoe slept right through it. Wish I could say the same about Charlie, who hid under the pew for awhile. He just can't sit still. I can only keep him under my thumb for some time. Yeah, we ended up going outside so he could walk up and down the steps out front, like a game. If only I could have smoked a cigarette. Mind you, I haven't had one in over 2 years now. But it still bugs me..times like that. You know, it might help me to chill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess Ellie would never see me that way. Although, she tells me I'm too calm sometimes, with the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are having a cookout. Just burgers. We thought about planting something today. Its all sunny out. Still a chill, though. Of course, all Ellie can think of..is how we'll clean up, afterwards. I'm really trying to get Charlie interested in gardening. I think he might eat more vegetables then. I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do have some beautiful raspberry plants out back. I think I'll did one up (they are spreading everywhere in the back yard) and put it in a pot. Charlie can help. Better make that two. One for Hannah and one for Charlie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything to stop another egg hunt. I bet they've looked for eggs the fifth time this morning. Even the squirrels have came out and tried to get into a few eggs. If that doesn't work, about the plants, we might see some friend of Ellie's later that lives in the country. But I&amp;nbsp; have a feeling Ellie will be taking a nap when Zoe does. I might need one too.&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4067960054963709255?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4067960054963709255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4067960054963709255' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4067960054963709255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4067960054963709255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-bunny-blues.html' title='Easter bunny blues'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2331622987778405286</id><published>2011-04-06T19:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T19:27:49.905-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a sign of spring</title><content type='html'>Oh..its definitely spring now. Some chilly nights, but the daylight (and there is a lot more of it) bring birds of a feather to flock together..so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this scares me so much. Letting &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2011/04/whats-in-name.html"&gt;Hannah&lt;/a&gt; go off to play with the kids in the neighborhood. I can't watch her like a hawk. I've got Charlie and Zoe to deal with. And I do try to get them to the park in the afternoon..if the weather lets me. Believe me, Charlie walks a lot. Runs a lot. He never met a stranger he didn't like. And he likes to crawl up things on the playground. Still, I hate this whole idea of him running after Hannah and then for him to get lost or something. He's been pretty good lately, though. I hope it stays that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Wolf boy aka Caleb has made his presence known now. He's pretty fond of Hannah. Its interesting to see how she deals with it. Really, she doesn't pay him that much mind, and she likes the girl next door, Shelly who is ten, and she hangs out with Shelly's friends who play basketball. So far, I think its all OK. She's next door. But I know it won't last long, she'll want to go where ever Shelly goes. Shelly has a brother who is a little older than Hannah. Anyway, basketball right now. With school, she has to come in, do some homework, read, just a little TV and bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, its so hard keeping everyone on schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its just, she's not my kid, but still, I want her to have fun. I want her to be OK. I would hate for something bad to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there, was a shooting at the park. Thankfully, not the one we go too. But still, its really scary. Suddenly, its as if the violence has really gotten bad. I dunno how it is in other cities, but I'm just in shock of it. Even today, the police went to arrest someone, and the suspect shot the officer and his dog bit the other officer. Just crazy things happening. Its hard to feel safe anywhere these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2331622987778405286?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2331622987778405286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2331622987778405286' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2331622987778405286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2331622987778405286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/04/sign-of-spring.html' title='a sign of spring'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4363881057858015679</id><published>2011-03-01T22:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T22:41:38.937-06:00</updated><title type='text'>its still winter</title><content type='html'>There was a winter break, but it wasn't long enough. I can't believe I said that. Don't I want Hannah in school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, of course, I do. Its just the days are getting longer. And Charlie is bugging me about being outside. It was warm enough to take a walk to the park, today. Although, I almost slipped on ice. The driveway. There is just one part of it that won't melt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm battling this cold. I keep telling myself it could be worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so isolated from everyone else. Some days. You know, just me and the baby and Charlie who swears he's not a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard on the news that the family who burned in a house fire, a rural area from here. Actually the wife planned to kill the family. And she did. Then herself. So horrible to think about. I thought of Kelsey, my friend who lives in a trailer on the outskirts of town. Her husband has his own snow plow. And they need it, where they live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are gonna have another baby. She seems fine with it. She has a job at the courthouse now. We really want to see them, some weekend. But, don't know if the days will let us. I'd hate to be stuck out there. Although, Lon would love it. He wants to move there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure I'm ready for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, my nose is stopped up, again. I hope I can sleep tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. Stay positive. But its so hard to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4363881057858015679?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4363881057858015679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4363881057858015679' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4363881057858015679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4363881057858015679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/03/its-still-winter.html' title='its still winter'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2522766516716657402</id><published>2011-01-29T21:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T21:55:46.192-06:00</updated><title type='text'>in a thaw</title><content type='html'>We are kind of in a thaw..but you know..that means ice..on the driveway. Naturally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still pretty tired here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took the kids to the zoo today. It was free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did we go? It'll just mean colds. I'm sure of it. But we would have gotten cabin fever, otherwise. Not sure it that really makes you sick. Possibly...just insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah got to visit with the wolf boy down the street. Well, he doesn't wear his wolfman Halloween costume as much as he did. I don't think Ellie likes the kid. Its an on going battle. I know she wants to watch out for Hannah, but sometimes..well, she needs to live and learn. Anyway, I'm pretty sure she could kick his butt if she had too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one, she can out run him. He even asked my how she learned to run so fast. I just told him it was a family secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah is the type of girl, who loves to have friends, but still wants to be in charge. I know Ellie seems to think I only see Hannah through rose colored glasses, but I know what she's made of. It just makes me smile sometimes. Yeah, Hannah might be more like my mother than I even want to admit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s...snow on the way Monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2522766516716657402?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2522766516716657402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2522766516716657402' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2522766516716657402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2522766516716657402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/01/in-thaw.html' title='in a thaw'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-5213002575403815303</id><published>2011-01-23T21:52:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T21:48:55.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'>snowy mountains in the lawn</title><content type='html'>We have 6 inches of fresh snow. It was a slow go going anywhere last night with the blowing snow. I've been staying home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure Hannah is bored. Thank goodness, for the library. Books and videos for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched most of Julie and Julia tonight. I'm not sure I'll do anything major in the kitchen..since I did burn a boiling egg this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I did make Lon pretty mad. Its just..the smoke detector didn't go off in the part of the house where I was with the baby. And the detector we thought was working in the kitchen didn't go off. So that meant a trip to the hardware store. So maybe it was actually a blessing in disguise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is OK, but a blacken pot. One of my favorite pots too. I'm hoping I can clean it up. If not, maybe I can get a Paula Deen pot or something. I want it to be stainless steal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, going around in circles, trying to keep warm. Trying to keep the little one happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I did have a visit from Roger. I possibly ranted too much about Lon around him. He so loves babies. He was kind of weird around Zoe. I can't see him taking care of her, but maybe he could. He babysits Rosie (Kyle's little girl) sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I better think about bed. Everyone else is around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-5213002575403815303?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/5213002575403815303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=5213002575403815303' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5213002575403815303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5213002575403815303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/01/snowy-mountains-in-lawn.html' title='snowy mountains in the lawn'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2781260374008729249</id><published>2011-01-15T10:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T10:09:27.366-06:00</updated><title type='text'>it counts</title><content type='html'>So is it a bad thing when you take a shower with your wife and baby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt kind of bad, but then again..Charlie was asleep and Hannah had gone to bed. Really, sometimes, you just need that time. Together. I totally doubt Zoe will ever remember it, but well..I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, talk about dry skin days. Great to lather up in baby oil, afterward. I need that stuff all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I can't help but smile about it. Just the three of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoe's little lips nursing in her sleep. She just a work of art. I can't help but admit that.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Ellie more, and its hard to show her that. Especially, with a toddler and a six year old who got tossed at her. Practically..because of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love them too. I do. Its just, I feel Ellie and I need just a honeymoon with our baby. So if I can make Friday night just a little more special. Well, I'll try, if only for twenty minutes or so. Every second counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2781260374008729249?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2781260374008729249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2781260374008729249' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2781260374008729249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2781260374008729249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/01/it-counts.html' title='it counts'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2820722260763502413</id><published>2011-01-12T15:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T15:27:58.307-06:00</updated><title type='text'>its a cold one</title><content type='html'>I feel really bad for Lon the last few days. We've had a really big snow storm come through. Granted, I don't think it was as bad as last year, but while other people get to stay home and dig out...he has to be at the campus taking care of things. You know, snow plowing, that kind of thing. He has to be out in all this cold weather thats now below zero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie doesn't understand its too cold to be out in this. He begs to go outside. You'd think he was a puppy instead of a toddler. Hannah isn't much better, but I think she's learning. She's a bit more subdued, lately. I dunno..if she's homesick or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she's stubborn. I really do. I think she wants to be with her Mom but she thinks she's right and I think she wants her Mom to call her more, and she hasn't. But Hannah won't call her. I feel like I'm caught in the middle and I don't want to bring this up with Lon because he's really tired. He went to bed at 8 last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I could have this different life. I could know my major by now. Maybe. Probably not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm possibly married to the only man on the block who wear's cover-alls and smells like he's been fixing motors. But he's the only one I want. And I think Hannah finds him pretty important too so, we have one thing in common if nothing else. We might both need to go to Texas next month ... just to warm up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2820722260763502413?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2820722260763502413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2820722260763502413' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2820722260763502413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2820722260763502413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/01/its-cold-one.html' title='its a cold one'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1719562219474414135</id><published>2011-01-10T16:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T16:15:58.975-06:00</updated><title type='text'>so thats how it is</title><content type='html'>So far so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, the three kids. It seems Hannah always wanted siblings. And now she's a big sister. Of course, Charlie is really taken with her. Don't know if she's up for that much brotherly love. They get along, pretty well. I'm hoping. I dunno for sure. I'm thinking, Ellie has to put up with a whole different ballgame, than I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Hannah is really respecting Ellie and I'm thankful for that. It'll take some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If thats not enough, well, Hannah has met the wolf-boy up the street. You'd think we shipped in Hannah just for him. Just one more thing Ellie has to worry about. She's a little pessimistic about him. I guess. Well, after all, he kind of knocked her over, or something, that one time. That was when I was sick, so I don't remember it that well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, Hannah is just happy to have someone her own age to play with. She's decided to teach him how to write. I'm getting the impression..she's in control of the situation. I don't think she'd let him get away with anything. But I don't know how Ellie feels about him being here all the time. See, I'd rather that wolf-boy, Bolt (sounds like a dog already, doesn't he?) be here instead of Hannah being down there. They play in the snow, anyway.&amp;nbsp; Of course, this makes Charlie want to be outside, and well, Ellie has her hands full with Zoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its never ending. Its always something, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1719562219474414135?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1719562219474414135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1719562219474414135' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1719562219474414135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1719562219474414135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2011/01/so-thats-how-it-is.html' title='so thats how it is'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4590627524330935203</id><published>2010-12-24T22:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T16:04:49.561-06:00</updated><title type='text'>as if</title><content type='html'>I am so exhausted. I'm practically sleep walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I feel guilty. Really, Lon is doing so much with the kids. Although, at the moment, I'd rather anybody be cooking but me. Maybe not my Mom. I heard all about her hip replacement. I hope she'll be OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yawn..really, I am so tired. I don't think I'm really up to getting up so early in the morning. But I'm sure Ben is expecting a Christmas breakfast. Then Christmas dinner. I swear my muscles ache all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, Zoe is sleeping pretty good. She has her moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm stressed about Hannah. I try not to be, but I am. I mean, we are kind of related. She's a distant cousin, since her Mom in my cousin, and she's also Lon's daughter. I'm really trying to get to know her, but I'm not sure she really wants me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying my best not to dwell on it. What ever happens. Happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need some sleep. But I want a little of my own Lon time too. That sounded like I might be jealous or can't get enough sex or something. Actually, just some alone time to talk. I miss that. Maybe I'll get my brother to watch the kids one night and we can just have a date night. Yet, I'd like for it to be the three of us. Zoe, Lon and me. I dunno. I think I'd like to get a motel room and just go and sleep as much as possible. Oh, and a big bubble bath would be nice too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace Everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4590627524330935203?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4590627524330935203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4590627524330935203' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4590627524330935203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4590627524330935203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/12/as-if.html' title='as if'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7641953816970563050</id><published>2010-12-23T16:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T16:40:46.230-06:00</updated><title type='text'>can't hardly wait</title><content type='html'>OK..I'm crazy scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah, my daughter is coming to our house for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, exactly what to expect. We've talked on the phone..but to meet her face to face. I hope she won't hate me. I feel like I have so much to make up for and then I look at baby Zoe and see how much I have to be thankful for. She's so tiny. I can't help but smile when I see her. She's something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't forget Charlie because, well, I do think he makes me a better person. He doesn't even know that. And he's really been good this winter. He's settling down. Just being a little man. Much better around Zoe than either Ellie nor I imagined. I hope it stays that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope its good Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish I wasn't on pins and needles about Hannah, but I am. So much to look forward too. Then we've got Ellie's brother coming (He's bringing Hannah). Yeah, a houseful. God, I just hope Ellie's mother behaves herself. That's all I need is to have her go on one of her tangents. I hope not in front of Hannah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pins and needles. Just pins and needles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7641953816970563050?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7641953816970563050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7641953816970563050' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7641953816970563050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7641953816970563050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/12/cant-hardly-wait.html' title='can&apos;t hardly wait'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-8995725647226656649</id><published>2010-12-12T09:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T09:30:50.042-06:00</updated><title type='text'>baby its cold outside</title><content type='html'>Well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still finding my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is so new and dazzling with baby Zoe. Really, I shouldn't complain. Although, there seems to be never enough hours in the day for sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could get gushy on you and sound intoxicated with all this baby love. Truly, she is a living and breathing miracle. I had no idea I could love anything quite like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I love Charlie. I adore him. But Zoe. I dunno. She's well. Here in my arms. And its incredible, yet so intense and unnerving too. Like, what if something happens? Will I ever love her enough? Will I be a good mother? So many questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so careful with her. She's so tiny. I'm happy she gets stronger everyday. These little moments mean so much to me. I'm so glad to have this time with her. Even if she keeps me up at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the weather has been brutal this weekend. I don't feel like having company. All I want to do is be with my little one, Charlie and of course, Lon. We do have company coming. I have no idea how we will fit my brother and his daughter in her. Along with Lon's six year old daughter Hannah. It'll be a houseful. Seriously, I don't care how messy it gets. As long as Zoe is OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH, and Lon got the oven working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-8995725647226656649?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/8995725647226656649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=8995725647226656649' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/8995725647226656649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/8995725647226656649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/12/baby-its-cold-outside.html' title='baby its cold outside'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-8323485205268989684</id><published>2010-11-20T08:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T08:43:20.367-06:00</updated><title type='text'>on the brink of destruction</title><content type='html'>All right. I wanted to destroy the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems the heating element has gone out on our old oven. Yes, its much older than I want to admit. We need a new oven. But its a wall oven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea it was bolted in with just two screws. Two screws!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, Ellie thought I was going to kill myself. You just can't pull out a heating element and go to the hardware store with it. No sir. That would just be too easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, she called Doyle and Ravi to help me get it back in there. After I noticed I'd have to spend more time on this operation. We aren't having Thanksgiving at our house. I hope. I mean, we have a baby to wait for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie kept stressing this when I wanted to take a sledge hammer to the kitchen. You know, give her that kitchen she always wanted. I was so close. It would have felt good to destroy it. But I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I have a few things bothering me. Old stuff. New beginnings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do want to make this up to a daughter I didn't know I had. And I feel guilty if I talk about it with Ellie. And..and there is Charlie. How long is that going to last? Lonnie will wake up one day and be wondering why did he give him up. I just know it. God, got to stop worrying. It doesn't do a lick of good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if I could just find a stupid heating element for this oven. This one little thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so annoying. It really is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-8323485205268989684?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/8323485205268989684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=8323485205268989684' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/8323485205268989684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/8323485205268989684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-brink-of-destruction.html' title='on the brink of destruction'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2935522727824027001</id><published>2010-11-11T08:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T08:49:08.271-06:00</updated><title type='text'>keep calm</title><content type='html'>There is a real frost this morning. Shivers. Winter is coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I am still on bed rest. Lon doesn't want to catch me even standing up, looking out of the window. Stupid high blood pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really envy Syd, you know. She never had a problem with anything during her pregnancy. And now, I feel nothing but trouble, for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanda was over a day or so ago. She seemed...different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if she's trying to hard with Elliot. And maybe, just maybe Elliot isn't at all like I thought he was, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I remember how he was when he worked at Michaels. Talk about Lady's Man. You betcha. He had a fan club. And he must have gone out with all of them. I mean, I don't know how serious it all was, but he could easily get what he wanted, because after all he was just pretty Elliot. And I have to say, I always thought they were a very odd combination. But what do I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope things are just as peachy as she says they are. She just makes over him. Its like he's her child and she's spoiling him rotten. I do wonder now if perhaps, he was the main reason why she gave up Evan, her baby with Eric, so easily. She did it for Elliot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, maybe she was depressed, and overwhelmed. But talk about being the good wife. I'm not that good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think about weekly menus and what parts of the house need a weekly scrubbing. Its just kind of annoying to listen to her now. But it was pretty funny when she told me how she can't tell his cousins apart. And now one is coming back, and Elliot's parents expect him to help out this cousin. It'll be Amanda doing all the work. I just know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is my friend. And I think she's woke up to realize there is more to life than just Elliot. She brought us brownies. She was afraid they wouldn't be worth eating, but they were really good. I know, I wasn't going to eat one. I ate a little of Lon's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I'm getting worried about the baby. I am. Lon says not to worry, but this being pregnant is starting to bother me. What if its not that great of a child birth. I want everything to be all right. I do. Its just hard to keep calm. So hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2935522727824027001?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2935522727824027001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2935522727824027001' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2935522727824027001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2935522727824027001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/11/keep-calm.html' title='keep calm'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3891433322824131122</id><published>2010-11-06T11:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T11:34:05.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>always something wrong.</title><content type='html'>All right. I spoke my mind. I just had too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, do we have any business keeping Ellie's sister's kids. They are at her Dad's. Her sister's husband hasn't gone anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, times are hard. Gas is going up. We live like an hour away from them. And I'm working. We've got Charlie to look after. And I don't mean that as a chore, or anything. I love him and its enough for him to get used to the fact that he's got a sibling coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll be here before you know it. A new edition. And I need for Ellie to take it easy. I'm not sure if she has, you know. With all this going on with her sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, I should back up. I just couldn't help but rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa (Ellie's sister) was in a wreck on the way to work. Yeah, broke both her legs. She ran right into a truck that was stopped in front of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad that wasn't Ellie. I'd be in pieces. And, and I know it isn't easy right now for them. But she's got her husband even if Ellie thinks they are going to call it quits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geo was in the army. He ended up, you know where bad things are happening, still. For most of it. And now, he's out, because, well...he hurt his back. He can't seem to find a job. I guess I should have helped more, but they are living for free at Ellie's Dad's, you know. And, and really, maybe things are a lot better for them than a lot of people right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So uh, I had to be kind of bad. Bad ass. I guess. Actually, its kind of easy to be that way with Ellie's mom. I guess because...I know..I definitely know the woman hates me. And you know, it bothered me at firs, but now I don't give a damn. Cause, I gotta wonder if her Mom really likes anything or anyone..especially, when it comes to Ellie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to live our life. We have to be there for each other. And I love Ellie. And I do what I can for her family, but this is us. And if she thinks I'm some selfish bastard, then let her think that. Cause I really don't care. I don't think she's thinking of Ellie at all sometimes. She doesn't make her feel happy that she's gonna have my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, I don't want to get ugly with Ellie's Mom. I just want her to leave us the hell, alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3891433322824131122?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3891433322824131122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3891433322824131122' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3891433322824131122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3891433322824131122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/11/always-something-wrong.html' title='always something wrong.'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2329673811515388820</id><published>2010-11-03T06:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T06:46:01.268-05:00</updated><title type='text'>blowing with the wind</title><content type='html'>Halloween was pretty calm. Actually. For us, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Charlie thinks everytime he puts on his Spiderman muscle suit that he should go door to door for candy now. Hasn't quite got the concept. And we have to practically keep the candy under lock and key. Naturally, Lon complained, we'd have candy in that bucket for next Halloween..the way I'm dishing it out. We didn't get that much candy. But I don't want this sabotaging his teeth, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out from Leia that she's having a root canal done for the second time on her tooth. I had no idea that could happen. She said her Mom's had the same thing done for a third time in the same exact spot in her mouth. Something about 4 roots in a tooth. It all makes me cringe to think about it. I don't like the dentist, and I do everything I can to make sure the trip goes smoothly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leia and I don't talk a lot. She's still at home and has a job at a school. She's pretty much normal after her big motorcyle accident that was way over a year ago now. And she didn't hook up with the guy she'd met in rehab. Well, not the Lynsey Lohan kind of rehab. This was mainly a place to help her get back on her feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just talk sometime on the phone. I'm not sure she'd want to see me. She doesn't ever ask me about the pregnancy. Usually, we just talk about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm still getting in a lot of walks. Sometimes, I walk with Syd in the afternoon before school is out. I did witness a silly thing a couple of days before Halloween on our street. The wind was so massive yet not brutal. These middle school girls took a hefty size branch that fell and flung it on the lamp post. Sending chards of wood everywhere on the street. I yelled at them. I'm sure it didn't do any good. They ran. I yelled more, "I'm watching you!" Of course, Lon just laughed at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm baking a chicken for supper. No need for a crock pot. The oven will warm the house up. Lon doesn't think we need the heat on yet. But there is a chill in the air.&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2329673811515388820?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2329673811515388820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2329673811515388820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2329673811515388820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2329673811515388820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/11/blowing-with-wind.html' title='blowing with the wind'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1768204759379940288</id><published>2010-10-24T10:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T10:41:31.879-05:00</updated><title type='text'>another day goes by</title><content type='html'>Its been so much more warmer this year than I expected. Such warm autumn days. Leaves falling. The whole street is out and about. There was a party of 11 year olds last night, playing in the street. Princess and Princes. I guess. Someone might have been a pirate. Isn't even Halloween yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that we'll do that much special. I guess we'll take Charlie trick or treating. But I hate to leave Ellie alone. And I don't think she'll be in the mood to go house to house. We won't go far. Charlie and me. I have no idea what he'll want to be. They have some kind of party coming up on Friday at the daycare, and the library. I don't think he understand. But he might. I can't underestimate him. He surprises me, all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's grown so much. A lot of it, from being at the day care. I think. He's much better socially, than he was. Of course, when I first got him, I got this feeling he'd go off with anyone who'd want him. And it still makes me sad to think he'd been tossed around like that when he was with his mother. Did she care who he was with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its frightening. I try not to think about it now. It really did bother me in the beginning. Here I was so worried I wouldn't be good enough for him. But he's just amazing. And I'm glad he's with us. I learn something new from him everyday. He's growing up so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much I want to tell Lonnie about him, but I don't. I hold back. Guess I'm afraid Lonnie will decide he wants him. But he never mentions it. Never. He's to busy with the new baby and his wife Steph. I'm hoping I'm never too busy for Charlie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1768204759379940288?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1768204759379940288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1768204759379940288' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1768204759379940288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1768204759379940288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/10/another-day-goes-by.html' title='another day goes by'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2980271224162489164</id><published>2010-10-04T16:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T16:48:25.827-05:00</updated><title type='text'>if its not one thing</title><content type='html'>You ever have some days where you fear everything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm having one of those kind of days. I don't mean to be whimp. But, hey, its just not me I'm worried about. I got a baby to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm worried about Steph &amp;amp; Lonnie's &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/10/in-eye-of-beholder.html"&gt;baby&lt;/a&gt; at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here you have two people in college. One is going to be nurse. Steph. And she lets a 6 month old eat anything. Really. They let their baby suck bean juice off a piece of meat. I was petrified with I saw that. Really. But I had to act all casual about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate feeling uneasy about this. Anyway, that was over the summer now the baby is going into surgery. I'm really happy we have Charlie. I so want to keep him safe. I want Tristan to be OK too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then if thats not enough I have my sister to contend with. Who seems to only think of herself and her boys. I just can't handle it. I can't. OK, I'm such a whimp. But I don't want to get sick. I don't want to get hurt. I just want to be home making cookies. I guess. Which I know. I don't need to even be eating cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh? Does it ever change? Or will I just be a little more mellow once the baby gets here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2980271224162489164?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2980271224162489164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2980271224162489164' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2980271224162489164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2980271224162489164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/10/if-its-not-one-thing.html' title='if its not one thing'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2516347647984853418</id><published>2010-09-27T17:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T17:16:59.327-05:00</updated><title type='text'>that time of year</title><content type='html'>You know, there was a time I didn't think there would ever be any babies around. I guess it all started with Charlie and that was kind tricky. I guess a part of me felt obligated to help out Sarah. After all, we had history and well she could make things miserable. Anyway, Charlie changed all that for me. And yeah, my Dad was all, don't get to attached. Seriously, gotta wonder if my dad ever got attached to any of us. Maybe the younger ones, my younger siblings that are in middle school now. And then when we got him, I was like, I can't let him down. Just can't. Even if he can be as rotten as they come, sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, its like all our friends are having kids. Its just crazy. Like who's idea was that? And they all look at me, or maybe Charlie. As if.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it just makes me smile more that we're gonna have a new addition (or is that edition) well, maybe we'll upgrade...which means more baby proofing and a nursery ready. I don't think we want the new baby in the same room with Charlie even if he promises how good he'll be. Ellie has nightmares already of him trying to get the baby out of the crib. He's not the Incredible Hulk Toddler. I think he'll be OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it is, &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/09/in-moment.html"&gt;Syd&lt;/a&gt; and Eric have a baby girl and a baby boy. But not twins. Evan is about 7 months or so and he's scooting around. He's with his Mom right now, but Eric is the main caregiver since Amanda had some baby blues or something like that. She's a lot better now. And I think she can take care of Evan. If not, Eric's parents are taking care of him. That would be so tough. Cause, you know, I'd really miss my kid and I'm sure he'll miss Eric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then another friend of Ellie's had a baby&lt;a href="http://heathandnick.blogspot.com/2010/09/name-within-name.html"&gt; boy&lt;/a&gt;. So I guess we'll have to go and see them if Ellie feels like it. They live out in the country in a trailer. I have to admit I envy them, but I wouldn't want a house trailer. Just don't trust those tornadoes that come ever now and then. I'm hoping Jack will build a house. At the moment, its mainly a fence we're worrying about. I told him I'd help him if he needed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just don't do anything fast anymore. If you must know, its finally good sleeping weather around here. Its getting down in the 40's now. Good apple picking time which means apple pie and other apple goodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2516347647984853418?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2516347647984853418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2516347647984853418' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2516347647984853418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2516347647984853418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/09/that-time-of-year.html' title='that time of year'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1311906300396451751</id><published>2010-09-17T17:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T17:12:37.321-05:00</updated><title type='text'>remembering</title><content type='html'>OK, I don't know why its bothering me now. Well, really it isn't. I mean, there was a time I thought Eric was the only guy for me. But then again, that was years ago. It feels like a long time ago. I was so naive then. I suppose he had good intentions..back then, in high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But things change. You meet someone, who you fancy, and really mess things up that you thought could be perfection. Maybe I'm glad I did. I dunno. I try not to dwell on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do think he's a better guy now, than when I knew him. He had a lot of growing up to do, and the last year or so he's grown a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there was a time we were pretty mad at him. Like summer before last. Having a little fling with Amanda, of all people, in Italy. Two people I would never think would hook up. Did. And then I knew he thought his life was ruined, thinking he wouldn't be a part of his baby son's life. And being so alone. Forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, he's getting married (Evan is very much a part of his life). Just not to Amanda, who did marry the guy she wanted. After all. But Elliot's another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, Syd is pretty special. They met because the place he was renting came with a cat. A cat that belonged to Syd. And well, it was a modern romance. I guess. They talked a good bit on the phone,e-mails, texts, skype. Then she came to see him at Christmas. And here they are now, getting married. Finally. And I'm glad I can be friends with my ex-boyfriend's fiance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hadn't planned on it. I really hadn't planned on ever knowing much about Eric, ever again. Since I kind of burned that bridge my Junior year thinking I could get him back, but I didn't. And now, he just lives down the street from me with Syd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I dunno how he feels about Lon. I don't really care. I'm not sure Lon has ever been alone with him. I mean, we have dinners and what not through the summer. They really don't have that much in common, yet Syd and I walk to the park a couple times a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't really talk about Eric. She never asks me how he was in high school. We just enjoy NOW. She shows me a thing or two about knitting. I show her crochet. And yet she still knits. I still crochet. Neither of us are trying to win the other over. She likes to knit sweaters and scarves. I like to crochet hats. And we talk about being pregnant, dreams, our favorite songs on Glee, how to make the perfect pie crust (which neither of us really know the answer too.) and things we remembered doing in 1995. Yeah, no reason to dwell on Eric. I'm glad she found him. I'm glad I met Lon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm better at keeping friends than I used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1311906300396451751?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1311906300396451751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1311906300396451751' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1311906300396451751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1311906300396451751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/09/remembering.html' title='remembering'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1566893905149050331</id><published>2010-09-07T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T22:31:03.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just think'n</title><content type='html'>I think of all these things we should have done this summer, but we didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. going camping. but Charlie is too little and I can't see Ellie to happy with me if she had to get up a dozen times a night just to go pee. yeah, no happy campers there. actually, we tried a little camp-out in the back yard, and I guess the wind or the tent or the night..just made Charlie scream and cry. It was not a good time. So, I don't think we'll be trying that out, anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. taking a trip to Texas. I know we should&amp;nbsp; have, but between Charlie and Ellie it would have been a lot to endure. I know, get up at 2 in the morning, drive all night. I think those days are over for me. I just don't take off in the pickup, like I used too. I remember when I could drive across the state of Texas without any problems. Now, I just want to stay home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what we got? Chickens. Just three hens. And they are in this little cage by the side of the house. We got them for eggs. Yeah, a lot of people are into urban farming these days. Funny, small houses are whats selling these days too. Guess I'm glad I bought this starter upper when I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm glad Kyle's around. Still doing some gardening at Olivia's great Aunts. We have corn. Seriously, I thought the deer would have eaten it all by now. They have been our biggest problem. But we've gotten some really nice tomatoes this year. A few cucumbers. Even squash. We should have planted more. But I have to wonder if we'll plant one next year since I'm not so sure Olivia's Aunt would want that. And Kyle and Amber can't stay there this winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll be cold before you know it. Already in the 70's this week. Which is nice. Hopefully, it'll be a long fall. It was one messy winter this past year. Cold too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yawn. Well, I better turn in.&amp;nbsp; I think Ellie is already asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.urbanfarming.org/"&gt;urban farming&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://home.centurytel.net/thecitychicken/index.html"&gt;the city chicken&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1566893905149050331?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1566893905149050331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1566893905149050331' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1566893905149050331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1566893905149050331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/09/just-thinkn.html' title='just think&apos;n'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3472591216953301392</id><published>2010-08-29T06:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T08:15:09.694-05:00</updated><title type='text'>end of summer</title><content type='html'>OK, I'm a rotten sister. Not taking care of nephews, but I'm doing well to take care of Charlie. I'm thankful he still goes to daycare. I dunno if he can go full time. Probably not. Probably shouldn't. He's really becoming this little man. He shares his toys now. I'm so happy he's being really sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just getting fat. Pure and simple. Even if Lon claims I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we are having this very slow go of a weekend and..and Kelsey show up with this &lt;a href="http://heathandnick.blogspot.com/2010/08/lovely-ending.html"&gt;guy&lt;/a&gt;, I guess she met on the internet. I'm not quite sure. But he's so different than I expected. Kind of country. Sort of. I mean, immediately, Jack and Lon hit it off. It was so simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Jack has a kid already. And...I dunno..I've never seen Kelsey quite like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always think of her kind of being bossy. Of course, I remember when Kyle used to treat her as a Saint some kind. Really, I didn't like her that much in high school. I guess I just always figured she'd end up with Nick somehow. But that was when I thought Nick was straight. That was way before he met Heath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Kelsey is pregnant with Nick's brother's baby. Its so complicated. She thought for awhile that Nick and Heath were going to adopt the baby, but looks like she's going to keep it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a really good time. We cooked together. She made gravy. I had no idea she even knew how to make gravy. I have to admit I felt like we were in the country or something. It was all so casual. And everyone had a good talk. Jack's little boy played with Charlie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, can't say we've had that much fun all summer. It was like we had so much in common. She's pregnant. I'm pregnanat. Charlie and Grady are about the same age. I hope it works out for them. Kelsey seems really happy, and she's so different around Jack. Yeah, Jack just makes Kelsey so likeable. That was the last thing I thought would happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3472591216953301392?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3472591216953301392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3472591216953301392' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3472591216953301392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3472591216953301392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/08/end-of-summer.html' title='end of summer'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-5488927102726781490</id><published>2010-07-17T07:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T21:55:12.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a restless wind</title><content type='html'>In all honesty. We are back on track. I believe that. Really, I do. You know, I'm thinking nothing can stop us now. We're having a baby! And I just can't help but gloat about it. And..and I'm not letting Ellie's &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/07/so-it-goes.html"&gt;Mom&lt;/a&gt; bring us down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, she's acting weird." Ellie's still not sure where her mom is coming from, and she's letting it bring her down. I mean, we need to be thinking about where the baby will go here. Will Charlie be OK to share a room with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just don't try to figure it out." Really, she shouldn't. She should just be happy about us and our family. She can't change her mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lets not forget about the Kyle and Amber &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/07/here-we-are.html"&gt;situation&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno about that. Really, I mean it happened so fast. OK, so did Ellie and me. And yeah, I'm getting it from home too. A BABY! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? See, not tons of joy, by any means. It just takes them awhile to warm up. I see how my Dad is around Charlie. He loves him. He does. But then he wasn't exactly pleased about that, as I remember. Anyway, everyone is busy in my family with Lonnie and Steph's new arrival. A baby girl. Thank God, not another Lon. And the name doesn't begin with an L, either. Tristan Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we haven't gone all the way to Texas to see it. Its just too hot. I sweat enough as it is at work. And I'm trying to help Kyle. I think I found a job for him. Hopefully, all is well in this rocky boat of ours. You just have to keep swaying with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-5488927102726781490?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/5488927102726781490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=5488927102726781490' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5488927102726781490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5488927102726781490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/07/restless-wind.html' title='a restless wind'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-506917867223547057</id><published>2010-05-23T11:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T11:38:31.119-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just can't help myself</title><content type='html'>Yes, I'm keeping something from Lon at the moment. Maybe I'm just mad at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, to hear about him and my cousin A cousin I don't even know, years ago. And they may have a daughter. Together. I can't help it. I'm bitter. I am. Its that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be this way, but I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Charlie. God, I do love him. I do. But this is so trying right now. Its like an illness all of its own. Worrying about this thing with Lon and Reese. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't sleep. I try. I do. And, then I start to think about me and whats to come. The timing in all this. God, I don't want to worry. I can't. I shouldn't. I deserve to be happy too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of me feels like I'm turning into my mother. I don't want to be her. I really don't. She's so bitter. And this kind of thing could make me so bitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have to sort this out. Regroup. Be happy. If only it were that easy. If only. But it isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how it is, you can think it. Say it. All the right things...but not until you can feel it that it can actually become what it is. You know, the forgiving stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how many times, I've wanted to forgive my Mom for all the things she's done. And I can't. I really can't. I want to. I do. But she won't try. She's her same old self. She isn't trying to change. So why should I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mean to be this way. I really don't. I do love Lon. I do. I feel safe with him. He makes me smile. He makes me feel I'm with the right person. I do want us to get past this. We have too. We just do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-506917867223547057?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/506917867223547057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=506917867223547057' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/506917867223547057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/506917867223547057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/05/just-cant-help-myself.html' title='just can&apos;t help myself'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1775181100642568300</id><published>2010-05-12T14:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T14:08:26.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my life with a wild child</title><content type='html'>Its been so much colder lately, than I expected. I've been so tired. Maybe I'm fighting a cold. Maybe I'm just not cut out to be the prefect housewife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get so busy with Charlie. Its like I forget everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, he's so adorable, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to him. I really wouldn't. I just didn't know I could fall in love with someone quite like him. Yet, I still have to be a parent. I can't give him every thing he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can be the battle of the wills with him. He's so stubborn. Then he can turn around and be perfect for Lon. He doesn't give Lon any troubles. Its like he knows how to push my buttons already and he's just a little over a year old. I dunno. I hope I can handle him. I'm trying. I really am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its scary sometimes, when I hear him call me Mommy. Then I hear Lon calling me Mommy. And I'm calling him Daddy. It makes me want to laugh. We've come down to this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1775181100642568300?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1775181100642568300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1775181100642568300' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1775181100642568300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1775181100642568300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-life-with-wild-child.html' title='my life with a wild child'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3765246148744158392</id><published>2010-04-22T07:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T07:39:02.262-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the let down</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling pretty stupid right now. Like a real dumb shit. Actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've done a lot of things wrong in my life. Seriously, I thought the worst of it was over. How I let one person down. Like Sarah, Charlie's mother. We really weren't good for each other. And I always felt something was missing when, when it was probably my fault when she lost our baby. Granted. She was only a couple of months pregnant when it&amp;nbsp;happened. But still, its always been there. That guilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, its like my mind went on rewind when I saw that picture of Reese at Ellie's grandparents. The grandparents she'd never met because her Mom didn't want her to know them since well, I don't even want to get into that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Reese. Yeah, it was like. I knew exactly who that is. Why didn't I see her in Ellie the first time I met her. I should of known they were cousins. Or something. I don't want to think thats was why I was crazy about Ellie. But it was like, deja vu, or something. Kind of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's crazy, I possibly have a 5 year old. I didn't know about. Its so crazy. Does this happen to a lot of people? Maybe there are organizations to help idiots like me. I feel so lost now. I dunno what to do first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you're thinking. Well call this Reese up. Find out for sure. I know I should. But, I hate the fact I've really let down Ellie. I've let down everyone.&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3765246148744158392?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3765246148744158392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3765246148744158392' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3765246148744158392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3765246148744158392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/04/let-down.html' title='the let down'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1781300752309583056</id><published>2010-04-06T14:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T07:16:23.557-05:00</updated><title type='text'>rattle snake farm</title><content type='html'>I feel so drained. I don't think I'm sick though. I can't be. I don't need to be sick. But allergies are all around. Yeah, that's probably what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I'm not sure how to admit this, but things have changed with my Mom. I'm not very happy with her right now. How she was at my great Aunt Maggie's funeral. It was not a good time for anyone. Especially, Lon. I dunno why she wants to treat him that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad says she would not be happy with anyone I'm with. He says no one in her mind is good enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I don't care. I think she's a nut. She's either always been this way or just crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'm never like that. I hope not. If I am, I hope Lon will knock some sense into me. Of course, he says he'd never ever hit me. Which might be a good thing. I know he wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't know what she wants from me, anymore. I am obviously a failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that's not enough, my sister shows up at the funeral with her old high school boyfriend. Rex. I was in total shock. Her husband is overseas somewhere in the Army. How could she do this to him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, she's not talking. Still treating me as if I'm to beneath her to start a conversation. We were never very close. At least she had Rex taking care of her twins. That was fun to watch because he had no idea what he was doing. Then I have Lon helping him out, but Lon thought he was her husband. He's never met Geo. Yeah, see how close we all are? Hardly a family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, anyway, Lon knows my Mom's true colors now. Not very pretty. She went on and on how he and his family wanted my great aunt's farm. Which they don't. They really don't. And I don't want to move off to a rattle snake den. Really, it might be a prosperous rattle snake farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon was telling me how he went on the rattle snake round up (years ago)&amp;nbsp;and got well over a 100 rattlesnakes on her farm. I believe it too. I'm glad we don't have rattle snakes here. Anyway, I'm glad we're home. Now if we could get Charlie back on schedule, all would be well.&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1781300752309583056?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1781300752309583056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1781300752309583056' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1781300752309583056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1781300752309583056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/04/rattle-snake-farm.html' title='rattle snake farm'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1799653373198369559</id><published>2010-03-07T18:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T14:01:56.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>and then</title><content type='html'>I gotta wonder when we'll get this party started. &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/03/finishing-touch.html"&gt;Amanda&lt;/a&gt; is coming home with the baby. But they live like an hour away and well, I dunno if Ellie really wants to visit. I mean, we have our hands full with Charlie. And she let me cook again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I wonder if she'd like to do the cooking, and I handle Charlie. She says she doesn't like to cook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's been on this kick, talking to him all the time. About everything. And she's really so kind, and everything. I know he needs to go back to the day care. He's getting spoiled, and we are both afraid he won't like to play with kids again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its just so sticky..you know, let him go so he can get sick and then we stay home with anyway, or keep him at home where he's isolated from other kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both read to him. And its kind of driving her crazy that he's not talking more. I told her how I was when I was baby. Once I started talking, I didn't want to shut up. Its so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Amanda having this new baby. And Eric's the Dad.&amp;nbsp; I wonder how that'll work out. I had this friend in college who e-mailed me to tell me he was a Dad and I don't think he's ever been with the kid. I mean, I've sort of been there. Kind of. I was there when Charlie was born, like the first month and then well, things changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just glad we have him in our life. I dunno what I'd do if things change again and he has to go back to his Mom. I know this is selfish, but I hope it never happens. That's so sad to say, but you know, I feel like he belongs with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I find myself worrying about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope this situation with Eric and Amanda will work out smoothly. Its hard to be parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1799653373198369559?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1799653373198369559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1799653373198369559' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1799653373198369559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1799653373198369559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/03/and-then.html' title='and then'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2598767403596630824</id><published>2010-03-03T16:50:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T16:53:35.136-06:00</updated><title type='text'>all is not lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/03/which-is-it.html"&gt;Olivia&lt;/a&gt; is sick. Yet again. Personal stuff. Well, not serious serious..but still...its an on going problem with her..and Roger. I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't take her to the doctor because it would have been the Charlie show if I had. We aren't taking him much to the day care lately since I'm not taking classes..and well, the weather and so many germs it seemed like defeating the purpose, and well..its good to save the money too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel comfortable hauling him everywhere with me like some mothers. And yeah, I'm sort of a step-mom. OK, I am. Its just not so easy to get used too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how Amanda does. But is she actually doing it. Really, she hasn't had Rosie to take care of in a long time. Kyle's been taking care of her. Well, I don't know how Kyle does it. He's such a natural. And Rosie really behaves too. Unlike Charlie who seems to be trying me at every angel. I sometimes, thinks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to get him back in daycare just to be potty trained. I've decided. Well, my mom says that's how I got potty trained. I was potty trained there long before I was at home. According to her. We are kind of speaking. I think. I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm going to start back to summer school. I will. She says I won't. She says I'll come up with an excuse. Maybe I will. Maybe I won't amount to anything just like she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I can't be a lawyer or a doctor or whatever it is she's expecting me to be. Evidently, my sister nor I turned out anything like she wanted. At least my brother is a veterinarian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, did I tell you, he has a baby girl now. But he and his girlfriend are no longer together. I dunno what happened. He won't talk about it. He hasn't talked to me much about anything, lately. I dunno if it has to do with Lon or what. I thought they were like best friends at one time. Apparently, I messed that up. And guys think women have friendship problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, there is the Amanda and Eric thing to wonder about. You know, just how involved will he be in all of this. I think he's worried he won't see the baby enough. Well, that's what Olivia says. But he's right there now with the whole birthing so maybe all is not lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2598767403596630824?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2598767403596630824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2598767403596630824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2598767403596630824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2598767403596630824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/03/all-is-not-lost.html' title='all is not lost'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3611931480138462165</id><published>2010-03-02T16:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T16:46:52.618-06:00</updated><title type='text'>always something</title><content type='html'>This is nerve wrecking. Amanda is finally having her &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/03/just-phone-call-away.html"&gt;baby&lt;/a&gt;. Eric's baby. I have to wonder how it'll turn out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep thinking about being there when Charlie was born. I was so happy. Kind of in shock. I had no idea what to do, but I wanted to learn. I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess a lot things would have turned out different if I hadn't had to have my Dad ruin everything. He definitely didn't want Charlie around. And here I am letting my Dad and step-mom keep him on our little trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I hope that goes OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad seems different now since I'm with Ellie. I'm glad he likes her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to wonder how different he would have been if...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no I'm not even gonna think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we just might be starting to thaw out. But then I hear more snow in the forecast. I am so sick of snow. Ellie says its never this bad. Then I heard from someone I work with that next winter is suppose to be worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the sand and stuff really rust the vehicles too. If its not one thing, its something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie is being a bugger too. Man, he likes to get into things. He'd got this thing for electrical outlets. Its about to drive Ellie crazy. Sometimes, I know he knows a lot more than he lets on. I think enjoys pushing her buttons..and on the TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3611931480138462165?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3611931480138462165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3611931480138462165' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3611931480138462165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3611931480138462165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/03/always-something.html' title='always something'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7816475180058570093</id><published>2010-02-14T15:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T16:37:52.585-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentines day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/S3hljqMzMCI/AAAAAAAAAu0/l0luFIQATd8/s1600-h/valentinesday+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ct="true" height="376" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/S3hljqMzMCI/AAAAAAAAAu0/l0luFIQATd8/s400/valentinesday+002.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it was a special delivery. Black Forest Cake. Yeah, I wasn't expecting that! Really, its been a lazy day which is OK. Gonna spend time with Roger &amp;amp; Olivia tonight and share this with them. I am sure all these sweets are going to do me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really though, a great time to be with friends and family. The ones you love!&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7816475180058570093?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7816475180058570093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7816475180058570093' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7816475180058570093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7816475180058570093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentines day'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/S3hljqMzMCI/AAAAAAAAAu0/l0luFIQATd8/s72-c/valentinesday+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6292925245956683182</id><published>2010-02-13T15:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T15:52:05.737-06:00</updated><title type='text'>its always a mystery</title><content type='html'>I don't want her worrying about Eric, but she will. Ellie always does. What was it with those two? They didn't....all right. I'm not jeolous. If thats what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this guy. Eric. He gets into these mind blowing situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I should not talk like that. I've gotten in a few, myself. Granted. I thought it was love. Turned out to be dramaroma, instead. And, I got to wonder if thats what he just might thrive on. I don't know. Not like I'm going to have a conversation with him. After all, he is Ellie's ex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, why am I thinking of this..when I should be thinking about Valentines day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sick of winter and all. Its hard to think about Valentines day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is getting flowers. Roses. Red roses. She does really put up with a lot. I'd take her out, but it'll be crowded. I hope she likes this DVD I got her. Something about New York City. All these five minute stories. I think it'll be better than that Valentines movie that's out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we'll do something with Roger and Olivia. Now their's the romantic. Roger. I don't think they ever do anything on Sunday mornings, but stay in bed. When we used to live there, once I saw that he was painting her toenails. In bed. Not that, there is nothing wrong with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...I wonder if I can do that in the morning. If only I could get Charlie to cooperate.&lt;br /&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6292925245956683182?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6292925245956683182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6292925245956683182' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6292925245956683182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6292925245956683182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/02/its-always-mystery.html' title='its always a mystery'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4399529924457879977</id><published>2010-02-04T22:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T22:21:56.184-06:00</updated><title type='text'>you know, its not always perfect</title><content type='html'>Its snowing again. I know Lon is sick of it. Olivia is getting depressed. I'm not sure if its the weather, her mom, or what &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/02/321.html"&gt;Eric&lt;/a&gt; has done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think there must still be something that bothers her about him. Its hard to say what it is exactly about her ex-boyfriend. Maybe its the fact that she dated him so long and they never had sex. And then, he goes and gets some we both know pregnant, and they aren't even dating. I mean, I guess I could understand. You know, like maybe she thought he thought something was wrong with her. I'm not sure. Perhaps, they really need to talk, but if I were her. I'd just forget it. Just move on. Don't dwell on it. It'll do neither of them any good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno if I should tell her this or not. She is like my closest friend. I hate to see her so not optimistic. I have a feeling things are not perfect with Roger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is guys are not perfect. Even if she thinks things are perfect with Lon and me, well, they aren't. They can't be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's crazy when he sleeps. Really. He likes to hug me up, sometimes, to the point I think I'm going to be trapped. Then, he can move around like he's running or playing basketball. It weird. He swears I snore, but I don't believe him. Its like some nights I&amp;nbsp;feel like I never get any sleep. Believe me, he's going too. But I love him, so&amp;nbsp;I put up with things like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing, for someone who loves to recycle. Well, he can leave every light on in the house. Especially, when he's ready to go to bed. He goes to bed. Does he get the coffee ready to go in the morning. No.&amp;nbsp;Make sure, Charlie's&amp;nbsp; bag is packed for day care. No. I mean, I could go on and on about these petty little things. But I still love the guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish he didn't like getting on roofs are going into holes that I'm not sure he'll come out of. Those things scare me. I don't want anything to happen to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I love when he cooks, and yes, he probably cooks more than he should because my cooking really sucks. I'm afraid. He thought I was going to kill him other night with my cornbread. Anyway, he really tries to get along with all my friends. Even Eric. Although, he doesn't talk to him much. He knows he's my ex, and he thinks its kind of strange how Eric's been mixed up with so many of my friends. But he never talks about that. And I seldom bring him up. Best to keep it that way. I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4399529924457879977?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4399529924457879977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4399529924457879977' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4399529924457879977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4399529924457879977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/02/you-know-its-not-always-perfect.html' title='you know, its not always perfect'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3584722169871032353</id><published>2010-01-31T14:16:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T06:37:22.151-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cast</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/11/amanda.html"&gt;amanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/12/it-doesnt-have-to-be-wrapped-up.html"&gt;amber&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ellieextras.blogspot.com/2010/12/asa.html"&gt;asa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/03/cory.html"&gt;cory&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/11/demetri.html"&gt;demetri&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ellieextras.blogspot.com/2010/08/derrick.html"&gt;derrick&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/04/nostalgia-in-my-heart.html"&gt;doyle&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/03/ellie.html"&gt;ellie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/02/elliot.html"&gt;elliot&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/05/eric.html"&gt;eric&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/he-had-job-to-do.html"&gt;heath&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/11/can-you-hear-me-now.html"&gt;Ian&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/12/no-thinking-about-it.html"&gt;josie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2011/08/blast-from-past.html"&gt;jules&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-his-eyes.html"&gt;kayla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-about-kip.html"&gt;kip&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/03/kyle.html"&gt;kyle&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/03/lia.html"&gt;leia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/05/lisa.html"&gt;lisa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/11/liz.html"&gt;liz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/05/lon-love.html"&gt;lon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/09/dont-go-there.html"&gt;louie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/03/nick.html"&gt;nick&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/07/olivia.html"&gt;olivia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2010/08/just-phone-call.html"&gt;oliver&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-got-inside-his-soul.html"&gt;ravi&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/05/rex.html"&gt;rex&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/03/roger.html"&gt;roger&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2008/03/roxie.html"&gt;roxie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ellieextras.blogspot.com/2011/07/ryan.html"&gt;ryan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ellieextras.blogspot.com/2011/02/sam.html"&gt;sam &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/12/finally.html"&gt;syd&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/01/others-people.html"&gt;z-etc.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3584722169871032353?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3584722169871032353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3584722169871032353' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3584722169871032353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3584722169871032353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/01/cast.html' title='cast'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-8264787604842788506</id><published>2010-01-20T21:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T21:43:16.986-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why now? Q &amp; A with Ellie and Lon</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Why decide to get married now? Dead of winter. Spur of the moment, practically.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie: Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon: I didn't want to wait. I always wanted to get married. To the right person, of course. And well, why wait? You know, I wanted us to spend more on us being married than some big thing that makes this one mad about that. Always something. This way, we can focus on our life together.(Lon looks at Ellie)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie: You're talking about my mother, aren't you? (Ellie looks at&amp;nbsp;Lon a bit peeved)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon: (slyly laughs) It has nothing to do with your mother. (He smiles and holds her hand as if they are in this together) Besides, I've never felt quite this right about anything, you know. And I love the sound of Mrs. Ellie Love. (He smiles. She smiles with a sigh).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie: Well, we've been together for a while. I guess we could have waited until summer, but well, it was the right thing (She smiles and nods, looking at Lon as if they might be giddy enough to start a song from the musical OKLAHOMA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon: Really, this is so important to me. Family, and it feels good knowing I'm with such an amazing person. (Lon gushes) It's true. And honestly, I think she makes me a better person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So will there be a honeymoon?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie: We'd love that so much. Its so cold here. I wish we could get away to the beach. Some place warm, but, you know. We can wait. (she nods and looks at Lon)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon: I wanted us to go some place right now. But, Ellie&amp;nbsp; is taking classes and there's Charlie to think about. So we'll be going to Texas in March. Charlie gets to spend some time with his parents and well, we'll get our honeymoon. (he smiles)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A trip down memory lane? Corpus Christie?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(They both shake their heads no.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie: (smiles) No, we're going to Austin this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(they say in unison.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://sxsw.com/"&gt;South by Southwest&lt;/a&gt; here we come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-8264787604842788506?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/8264787604842788506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=8264787604842788506' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/8264787604842788506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/8264787604842788506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2010/01/why-now-q-with-ellie-and-lon.html' title='Why now? Q &amp; A with Ellie and Lon'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-5768670125798050688</id><published>2009-12-25T10:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T22:58:10.497-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SzTmm9_8VZI/AAAAAAAAAok/2p8t86l9HCQ/s1600-h/winter09+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SzTmm9_8VZI/AAAAAAAAAok/2p8t86l9HCQ/s400/winter09+004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;The snow is starting to come down. I think I've seen enough for this year and next, already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;My Dad called. Its snowing in Texas too. Good thing they had the wedding when they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Honestly, I could gave stayed in bed all day today. But, when you've got someone like Charlie ready to have fun, well..you change your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;We had fun watching him. I keep thinking, he's going to change so soon. He's grown so much since September. I really can't explain how happy I am that he's here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Just wish it wasn't so cold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Looks, like we have a date to see the Justice of Peace in January. God, I can't believe we have to wait til January 15th. That just sucks. But I'm happy about it. Only, its gonna be freaky if we do have&amp;nbsp;a wedding in Texas in May and you know, we're like already married. It'll be great. It will. Ellie deserves the big wedding thing. She does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SzTo30ht3YI/AAAAAAAAAos/pUcqqBkzM2E/s1600-h/winter09+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SzTo30ht3YI/AAAAAAAAAos/pUcqqBkzM2E/s320/winter09+006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I dunno. I'm starting to think about this wedding we have to go to..you know, Amanda and Elliot's wedding. Its really odd. Then last night we went to Roger's and there was Eric with this girl he met kind of strange. Something about, she used to live in his apartment and left the cat and well, she wanted to see the cat. Its like, did she come to see Eric or her cat. Obviously, Eric thinks she came to see him, but she wouldn't shut up about that cat. You'd think she gave birth to it. I wouldn't want to burst Eric's bubble, but I dunno if she's quite as great as he might think. You can just see it in his face. He wants her to stay. He really likes having a girlfriend, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Now I feel sad for him. I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;-Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-5768670125798050688?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/5768670125798050688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=5768670125798050688' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5768670125798050688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5768670125798050688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SzTmm9_8VZI/AAAAAAAAAok/2p8t86l9HCQ/s72-c/winter09+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-842513735965039766</id><published>2009-12-24T07:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T07:52:12.679-06:00</updated><title type='text'>home is where the heart is</title><content type='html'>Thank God, we're home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure I could live in Texas. I've decided with my allergy issues as of recent. I know, thats a little strange or bitter or something. I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, the fact we just moved into this place and well..I want to have a home. Our home. Not somebody else's. Yeah, that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, we got in when it was still wet, not icy. Thankfully. Its icy now. And Lon is at work in layers of clothes, putting stuff on side walks to keep the ice melted and checking out boiler rooms and what not on campus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie has been sleeping so much that it scares me. I'm not sure if its from the trip or he's glad to be home. I'm a bit puzzled about how much time I have to myself. But I haven't wasted any, getting presents wrapped. Still haven't put them under the tree because I'm not sure what he might do to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon's Mom was nice. She seems really rich. I don't know how&amp;nbsp;to explain it. Maybe its because the house looks so perfect. Lon doesn't even have a room there. She seems the type you just can't get to know, and she's definitely not wanting to be called grandma. I don't ever see her wanting to be called that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe Lon is right about her. You know, us being here and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have my own mother to worry about. She's a bit upset with me. I should have done all these things in Texas that I didn't have time to do. Like see my great aunt. I can't seem to tell her I'm sorry enough about that. And I'm not sure what's up with Ben. I'm not sure if he's with his girlfriend or not and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just going to have to stop worrying about this. Thats all there is to it. I have so much on my mind. Trying to see if we can really do this marriage thing. Have Christmas and hope the snow storm isn't too bad.&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-842513735965039766?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/842513735965039766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=842513735965039766' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/842513735965039766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/842513735965039766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/home-is-where-heart-is.html' title='home is where the heart is'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-9028462752582321900</id><published>2009-12-20T09:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T09:29:47.545-06:00</updated><title type='text'>already now</title><content type='html'>It's official.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are engaged. And we might do something sooner than later. Actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny, I felt we were engage way before this. You know, on Ellie's birthday. Unofficial. You know, something to get our fingers used to wearing a ring, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, silly, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But its a big step. I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least my Mom didn't give me grief over it. She was behaving herself. She seems better. Perhaps, its because I haven't bugged her in a while. Wish it was different, but that's just the way it is. Some people just need their space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, though, the wedding was so fast. Didn't spend as much time with Jay as I wanted. Ben was at the wedding. Solo. Don't know what that means. You know, it could have been his significant other's health or she had a family situation. Who knows. He didn't talk about her. But he was friendly enough and well..well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to go to the justice of the peace as soon as we get back home. Get our marriage license. I want this to be legal. Soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, if that Kevin Jonas can do it. So can we, but not that expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-9028462752582321900?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/9028462752582321900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=9028462752582321900' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/9028462752582321900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/9028462752582321900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/already-now.html' title='already now'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3295235574527582766</id><published>2009-12-15T01:04:00.020-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T22:01:15.820-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the truth is</title><content type='html'>There is just so much I don't want to think about at the moment. Like getting sick as soon as I got there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are so nice and sweet and really, I wish I could stay in bed. But I can't. I have to smile and say I'm OK. Which I am, but when the look at me, they are thinking Oh God, that girl is gonna have a baby, isn't she.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But they haven't said too much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to see Steph. Don't really know her. She kind of, I dunno. You know, one of those kind of people you might never know. Like you aren't sure she likes you or not. While I'll probably tell you everything and then some. But it was late when I saw her. I was a wreck just on that drive back. Charlie slept on plane. In the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now he's a wake and well, kind of bad. He just ran like a wild man through the house and tore some ornaments off the tree and also a lamp. He knocked it over. It was an antique. Lon's step-mom said it was her grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Lon is so different around them. It kind of odd. I don't want to say anything. Its like he's just grinning a little too much. While I on the other hand should try harder, but I don't want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I'm trying to make an effort. I am. Just want to do the wedding and go home. I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Lonnie has so much going on. I've hardly seen him. He's in classes. Working for Ben and this Ranch he does something too. I have just been stayed put with Charlie. Honestly, I don't know what to do with him. He just wants to be outside. And I feel miserably stuffy when I'm out. Lon's all, Mr. Cheerful and lets Charlie run all over him, which he's not like that at home. At all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'm beginning to figure out that we do so much better when family is not around.&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3295235574527582766?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3295235574527582766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3295235574527582766' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3295235574527582766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3295235574527582766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/truth-is.html' title='the truth is'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1013751227969217422</id><published>2009-12-14T04:25:00.015-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T04:25:00.609-06:00</updated><title type='text'>can't hardly wait</title><content type='html'>Honestly, I'm thrilled about this trip. I won't be working in the snow, or driving in it for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, its taking some getting used too. My pick-up truck is just not used to that much snow. And I can get stuck so easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, the trip, I'm probably an idiot about it. While, El on the other hand, not so much. She's, I dunno, how to explain it. I think she's afraid of flying. Can you believe that? And yes, we've got Charlie. He'll be fine. I know he will. It won't take that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, Jay will be driving us out to the ranch which, well, that's hours away from the airport. Promised my Mom we'd see her before we left because she hasn't seen me in so long. Yes, its been a while. Really, a long time. But we weren't getting along. And she always. ALWAYS. I might add. Runs my life which ruins everything in the end. Possibly, she knows this now. I hope. We'll see. She promised she wouldn't give me a hard time about Charlie. It's Ellie she wants to meet. Seems, my Dad has mentioned her. And if Dad is crazy about&amp;nbsp;Ellie then possibly my mother will be, too. So. You know, I'm not gonna lose any sleep over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, I could take a nap right now. Probably, even on the plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno if we'll see Ellie's brother or not. She hasn't said anything about him. And I'm not bringing him up. Well, he says he's OK with me. Maybe he is. Really, we don't have much time for anything when we are there other than the wedding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1013751227969217422?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1013751227969217422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1013751227969217422' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1013751227969217422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1013751227969217422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/cant-hardly-wait.html' title='can&apos;t hardly wait'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4234592607670224682</id><published>2009-12-13T13:12:00.024-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T13:12:00.365-06:00</updated><title type='text'>my new best friend</title><content type='html'>Olivia is the best. I've never had a friend quite like her. Really, I finally figured that out when she came over and brought over this stuff to me at our new place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to think of her as that girl Eric dated forever. Seriously, I thought he would have married her and she would have turned him into a missionary or something and they'd be in Africa or somewhere, you know. And I always, thought she was just a little too good for me. Plus, she has this interesting way of saying things. I used to think it was goofy, but really, she is quite passionate. When she talks to Roger, it can get so animated. And I'd never know for sure if she was teasing him, or mad at him or just being herself. Well, she was just being Olivia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's amazing. She brings me ginger cookies with cranberries and walnuts. They just have to be good for you. They just have to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, I'm not that good at entertaining, but she made it so easy. She really did. Did I tell you she made me napkins. Yes. I'm so glad she's still close by. I want us to do more things together. And she doesn't seem to mind Charlie...who loves her too. She's so great with kids. And she's great with Roger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't want to go to Texas now. I know have to. I said I would and I wouldn't want Lon to go with Charlie alone. But its so nice here. Really, like the house. Charlie is getting used to everything. Now we have to go down there. Flying, mind you. I can't remember the last time I took an airplane trip. Yeah, me, not the world traveler. It was a shock I went to Texas last summer. And look what happened?&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4234592607670224682?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4234592607670224682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4234592607670224682' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4234592607670224682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4234592607670224682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-new-best-friend.html' title='my new best friend'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1880542878165947562</id><published>2009-12-12T02:28:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T02:28:00.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>frosty is not a snowman</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SyKVOCUusTI/AAAAAAAAAns/Dtpi56qiiL8/s1600-h/winterstuff+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SyKVOCUusTI/AAAAAAAAAns/Dtpi56qiiL8/s320/winterstuff+020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lon and Ellie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie and Lon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, I can't decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, maybe I am loving the snow a little too much. I did. Its just, you get pretty tired, digging out of the freak'n cold. Talk about freezing your ass off. Haaaa..work is no fun. No Sir. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kind looking forward to Texas. I am gonna wear my shorts. Not that I show off my legs much. Not really. OK, yeah, might have a few years back. You know, when I thought I could play tennis and what not. But uh, I'd probably blind people now with my pale legs. And there's nothing wrong with that. Ellie still makes me wear sun screen even in winter. Cause, I tell you..that sun comes out in this mega white stuff, you can go blind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't happen on campus. But some woman got backed over by a snow plow. She died. Yeah, all this snow can be pretty scary shit. &lt;br /&gt;- Lon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1880542878165947562?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1880542878165947562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1880542878165947562' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1880542878165947562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1880542878165947562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/frosty-is-not-snowman.html' title='frosty is not a snowman'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SyKVOCUusTI/AAAAAAAAAns/Dtpi56qiiL8/s72-c/winterstuff+020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3995087456145789759</id><published>2009-12-11T09:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T09:30:39.686-06:00</updated><title type='text'>well</title><content type='html'>Lon is going crazy with all the snow. Its so bad. And he's like this little kid. I can't believe him, sometimes. But maybe that's what I love about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I love my kitchen. I never ever thought I'd say that, but its true. Its freaky, I know. Because I don't cook! Well, a little bit. But you know, not like Lon. I wish he'd decide to go to cooking school because, he can cook. Really. Loves the chopping and everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm glad he does it so I can chase after Charlie most nights. And study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I'm kind of between jobs right now. Like, I don't have one. I just couldn't take working for that professor anymore. She's, you know, kind of crazy. Lon did get that naughty erotica novel typed up in Spanish for her. He wasn't going to tell me what it was about, at first. But I made him. And I was so shocked. But I didn't say anything to her about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But with the move, and Charlie and the wedding. Well, I needed a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope that doesn't sound too selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3995087456145789759?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3995087456145789759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3995087456145789759' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3995087456145789759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3995087456145789759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/well.html' title='well'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6006834612241998639</id><published>2009-12-06T14:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T14:06:58.624-06:00</updated><title type='text'>so be it</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SxwOxKzkKXI/AAAAAAAAAmY/eCzNcWXGY9g/s1600-h/poupeenthingssnow+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" er="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SxwOxKzkKXI/AAAAAAAAAmY/eCzNcWXGY9g/s400/poupeenthingssnow+005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's snowing! It doesn't look quite Christmas yet. From what I hear, its been so lousy about the snowfall. Which, isn't a problem for the guys at work. They kind of enjoy the snowless time this winter. For me, well, yeah..I'd like to see some snow. Take Charlie sledding. He might really enjoy it. Ellie just looks at me like I've lost it. But hey, I'm from Texas, and you don't get to see all that much snow unless you are in the panhandle, and I've never really been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're in the new place. Well, its really not that new. Found a crawl space under the house. Honestly, pretty sure something is under here. I just don't know what. I wanted to investigate, but then Ellie had a small fit about it. Said I shouldn't. She didn't want to call 911 unless she had too, and she was afraid Charlie might fall in and well, she ended up having a nightmare. Said it was the worst horror movie she'd ever witnessed. Really, gotta wonder what's up with Ellie. Honestly, she has a point about our safety, but uh, you know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely, should be Christmas shopping, but don't wanna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This trip to Texas is about to drain me of something. Kind of dreading it. Don't want too. But just a little unsure about... you know, Charlie, my Dad. Lonnie. Steph. I don't think she knows about Charlie. Maybe she does. I hope so. Not something you want to bring up on her wedding day. "Look, its this kid who looks an awful lot like Lonnie!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't think it would actually happen that way. But you know, its on my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we've got Ellie's Mom being a real piece of work, lately. She acts all happy that we're together, then she gets Ellie alone and makes her feel bad about everything I'm putting her through. I swear, Ellie could have met Jesus Christ&amp;nbsp;and if he'd asked her to marry him, her mother would have a problem with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But get this, she treats me like royalty. She really does. Like I can do no wrong, then she'll corner Ellie, tell her she's throwing her life away on a guy with a kid. It sucks. You know that. It does, and I wish Ellie would stop talking to her. Yeah. I wish I knew what to do. I do. But I act like everything is OK. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, everything is OK, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK..there is one more thing really bothering me. Those birth control pills that Ellie takes. Yeah, I don't like what they do to her. Honestly, I think its the pills giving her the headaches. It couldn't be me. It just couldn't be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6006834612241998639?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6006834612241998639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6006834612241998639' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6006834612241998639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6006834612241998639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-be-it.html' title='so be it'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SxwOxKzkKXI/AAAAAAAAAmY/eCzNcWXGY9g/s72-c/poupeenthingssnow+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-423823577364621129</id><published>2009-11-30T21:19:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T07:44:38.734-06:00</updated><title type='text'>a complete different ball game.</title><content type='html'>Maybe I don't know what I'm getting in to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Halloween was like almost a fiasco. I mean, I wouldn't have wanted to put Charlie through that drunk mess. Granted, I've done my share. I'm so done with that. And I like where things are with me and Ellie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, yeah, I kind of wondered, could I be all that...sober.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well..yeah, I can be.(making myself laugh now.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, its just different with her. And then we have him. And some day, well...I kind of hope we have one of our own too. I'd just love that. But, uh, I just gotta talk her into getting married. That's so hard. You know, I want it to happen, but then I don't want to make her miserable, either. She's been through so much with me and Charlie already. God, I love her. I really do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving was a little freaky. I mean, it wasn't exactly a Gossip Girl episode. But we were at her Dad's and Kyle had Rosie. And just after dinner, here comes Amanda. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno what she's expecting. But &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/11/other-matters.html"&gt;Kyle&lt;/a&gt; was really sweet. You know, he's pretty much staying out of the situation she's got going with &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/11/cant-let-go.html"&gt;Elliot&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/11/huh.html"&gt;Eric&lt;/a&gt;. But he's still supportive. I feel bad for him too, because I don't think she knows just what kind of great guy she tossed to the curb like that. I mean, he's really a good dad to Rosie. He puts up with all her crying and stuff. Amanda, I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this new found something for him. I don't know what to call it, but he's a great guy. Hopefully, some day she'll know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...and if that's not enough, we found out from Kyle that his girlfriend outed Nick. Yeah, she tells the whole thing about Nick and his boyfriend Heath to his Mom in the grocery store. Don't know what she has to say about that, but man..why would she do that? Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Ellie and I have found our own place and well, we'll be on our own soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Might be a complete different ball game now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-423823577364621129?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/423823577364621129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=423823577364621129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/423823577364621129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/423823577364621129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/11/complete-different-ball-game.html' title='a complete different ball game.'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6005887230583742974</id><published>2009-10-30T14:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T14:25:20.072-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not my idea</title><content type='html'>Damn, I'm really pissed with Roger. I know he doesn't like me. I know he never has. I don't really care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a Halloween party. Who knows who'll be here. I'm, there was a time, hear the word party..and I'm there man. I am your man. I can party with the best of them. But the fact is, that kind of shit gets old after awhile. Really. Hangovers. Oh, yeah, I know what those are and I don't miss them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't want to do anything that I'm gonna regret. Especially, with Charlie. I'm all he's got at the moment and, you know, I want to be there for the long haul with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its just I don't know if Ellie is ready for this. I told him I wanted to move out. Of course, she was concerned about the weather. That could have been an excuse. And yeah, it not my kind of weather. Hey, I might be ready to get out of this old Nebraska town when winter is over. But, you know, I gotta a job, I like where Charlie has daycare. And I'm so glad I can be with Ellie, but its just temporary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, gotta get ready to go over to Olivia's great Aunt's house. We'll see how that goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6005887230583742974?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6005887230583742974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6005887230583742974' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6005887230583742974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6005887230583742974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/10/not-my-idea.html' title='not my idea'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7561702350416249885</id><published>2009-10-21T16:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T17:00:37.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>you know, how it is</title><content type='html'>All right, I've been so busy with Charlie and work and Ellie that I haven't done too much writing lately. I can't think of the last book I've read either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I kept telling myself, &lt;em&gt;visit the library&lt;/em&gt;. We haven't even gone there yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie. He's so sweet. Really. I can't believe how happy I am around him. Its like I might get sick of myself from all this happy stuff. He can drool on me, and I'm happy. I feel kind of sad for Sarah's Mom who's going through chemo now and hasn't heard a word from Sarah. I'm kind of glad she hasn't. I don't really want to hear from her. Its like a nightmare, thinking she might show up here and want Charlie. I just don't want to let myself think about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been really, I don't know the word for it..but you know, I'm grateful that Ellie is OK with Charlie and me. I'm kind of shocked. It makes me smile though, that she's taken this all in stride. She has no idea how wonderful she really is. Still though, I don't want this to take a toll on her. Especially, with college and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we have to find our own place. I can't expect Roger or any of them to know how I have to be now with a kid. I got to be careful. You know, I have a feeling Roger is going to want a party, a Halloween party with alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would just be bad news for me and Charlie. I hear these stories on the news how parents get in trouble. I don't want to be on the news. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its kind of funny. I never knew I'd be worried about stuff like this. I wish Sarah had worried more about stuff like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be the Dad that Charlie deserves. I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I did let Ellie take Charlie to see her friend who's in that group place, recovering from a motorcycle accident. I don't know if she'll be back to see her friend. I should have gone with them. Actually, it takes both of us to look after him when we are out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I could just imagine how frustrating it was during that traffic jam. I'm glad they made it back OK. But he was really fussy. She definitely needs a vacation from us now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7561702350416249885?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7561702350416249885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7561702350416249885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7561702350416249885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7561702350416249885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-know-how-it-is.html' title='you know, how it is'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6023406187035157550</id><published>2009-09-11T02:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T16:42:14.959-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I can hope</title><content type='html'>I don't know if I can explain what I'm feeling, but its a good feeling. I'm so happy to see Charlie, and to think he's gonna be with me. I get Charlie. At least at the moment. I don't want to think how long that might last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have his birth certificate. His shot records. Those were things Sarah's Mom kept. I know I'll have to keep in contact with her. Probably even make a few trips to Texas when I can so she can see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so anxious, you know. And Charlie. He's so big. He's talking. OK, its just babble, but I'm gonna figure it out. He can say all these things. OK, I don't know what they are. I hear from Sarah's Mom that he can say Momma and Dadda, but I have no idea if he's making that much of a connection. I mean, not with me. But he's being really so attentive. He's such a happy kid. Which I don't see how with as much as he's went through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing my best not to be angry with Sarah. I just don't know why she does the things she does. You'd think she'd care about him, you know. Evidently, she doesn't. She left him with some friend of hers in Dallas and...and Sarah's Mom says she's taking speed mostly. Gotten really skinny. Her Mom was afraid she was on meth. She doesn't think she is. Something about modeling, I think she said. I kind of stopped listening after awhile. My luck she'll make a fortune then come looking for Charlie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is Ellie. Who I think is OK with Charlie. You know, she thinks he's really adorable. Those huge brown eyes of his and that adorable smile. She can't help but smile at him and watch him, you know. And then she looks at me and well, not so much smiling. I think she's mad at me. I think she's upset about something. That I'm hiding something. That its me. I don't know. I just know she's mad. Really, I never seen her like this. I don't know if I can fix it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it would be better if I just move out on my own with Charlie. That way we won't be so much a burden. She's starting college. She doesn't need this. She needs to have fun. And you know, fun can only last so long with a baby. He's a good baby. Almost eight months. He's this little man, you know. I feel like I've missed so much already. I'm just glad to have him back and I hope it'll work out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6023406187035157550?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6023406187035157550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6023406187035157550' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6023406187035157550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6023406187035157550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-can-hope.html' title='I can hope'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6042279814275515610</id><published>2009-08-30T09:24:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T23:23:19.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nick and Heath</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SpqMl1BQrXI/AAAAAAAAAho/pKCX44V28EU/s1600-h/undeclared.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 363px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375763686735523186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SpqMl1BQrXI/AAAAAAAAAho/pKCX44V28EU/s400/undeclared.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/blahblahblah.html"&gt;blahblahblah&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/he-had-job-to-do.html"&gt;he had a job to do&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-got-inside-his-soul.html"&gt;what got inside his soul&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/flashback-undeclared.html"&gt;undeclared&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/if-i-knew-right-now-where-id-be.html"&gt;if i knew right now where i'd be&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/food-and-lodging.html"&gt;food and lodging&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-and-me.html"&gt;you and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/09/coming-back-to-haunt-you.html"&gt;coming back to haunt you&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/09/taking-time.html"&gt;taking the time&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/09/back-home.html"&gt;back home&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6042279814275515610?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6042279814275515610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6042279814275515610' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6042279814275515610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6042279814275515610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/nick-and-heath.html' title='Nick and Heath'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/SpqMl1BQrXI/AAAAAAAAAho/pKCX44V28EU/s72-c/undeclared.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-5708444154592232474</id><published>2009-08-27T15:27:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T09:24:11.862-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hoping for the best</title><content type='html'>All right. This could really be happening. Something I've really been wanting for a long time. I almost had. Almost. Really, it was so close. And really, I dunno if I could have ever made it work with Sarah. But maybe if she'd stayed she wouldn't have been in half of this trouble that her mother spoke of on the phone to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I could have been wrong about that because she had her moment. It wasn't perfect. Can't say we were on the road to recovery. Cause, she could have her bouts. You know, where she hated everything and everyone. Didn't put up with it, either. Well, I say that, but I did. It didn't feel like it at the time. I'd just, you know, leave her alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying we were really in love. Exactly. I just felt of her as she was family, you know. And I had to take care of her. I actually, never had sex with her. I mean, she was pregnant then. And you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't know what Ellie would think if she knew this stuff. If she'd be OK with it or what. I mean, its not like I'm perfect. But its not like I was messing around, either. Not with this Sarah thing. Now that I think about it. I really hadn't been with anyone for an awful long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not until Ellie came along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I forgot about that. Kind of freaks me out. Not that I want to dwell on it now. I mean, just want us to get Charlie. And I hope Ellie will be all right with this. I just hope it'll go OK. But I'm nervous. Really, totally nervous about this. Just hope its the right thing for me, Ellie and Charlie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-5708444154592232474?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/5708444154592232474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=5708444154592232474' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5708444154592232474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5708444154592232474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/all-right.html' title='hoping for the best'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7660841455091419168</id><published>2009-08-21T03:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T03:19:00.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it doesn't go away</title><content type='html'>Man, I had this late night conversation with Nick. I don't know why we were talking. I mean, he looked so upset. He'd been crying. I thought he might be sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I got started talking about Sarah. I don't know why. I mean, really, she hasn't been on mind. Not really. Just Charlie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here I am saying to him that I should be a father, already. I was suppose to be a father. I could have been. Actually, the time it happened, I don't think I would have had a second thought about it. But I didn't really know. Maybe I wouldn't have been all angst if I'd known then, but I probably would have. I didn't really know until Sarah already lost it. That was such a blow. I can't tell you how awful I felt and talk about a million little pieces. Shit. I was so heart broken. Just an idiot, I bet. And I didn't know what to do with myself. Just made things worse. Especially, between us. She's a little pyscho, anyway. Well, I still think that. I knew that. Especially, the second time around. I knew her and I didn't care. When I found out, I was like, well, I'm going to be there for you. Just am. I need to be. As it was she had no one. Just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there I was telling Nick all this. Like you have to be there for them. You just have to. No matter how miserable it can get, you just have to be there like a rock. Something like that. And well, I guess Nick listened. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what kind of shit he's gotten into. But I think he's got it bad for someone. The wrong one, no doubt. But I think he'd be a rock for them. He would. By the look of him, I think there's a change. You know, like something to live for. Maybe not who ever it is he's got these feelings for. But for himself. You know, aware of what he's going to do to go on. And he could be ready for the next time. The next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, who knows, just me saying shit, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just get this feeling I am a father. It just won't go away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7660841455091419168?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7660841455091419168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7660841455091419168' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7660841455091419168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7660841455091419168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/it-doesnt-go-away.html' title='it doesn&apos;t go away'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7873988889472942237</id><published>2009-08-18T15:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T15:39:14.954-05:00</updated><title type='text'>love and other attention disorders</title><content type='html'>I don't think I'd ever worry Ellie quite like that. You know, the Olivia &amp;amp; Roger thing. I mean, I could fly off the handle. I used too. Maybe I grew out of it. Maybe I'm seeing what it does to people I love, you know. Now anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I think I was one of those types who thought even bad attention was good. I'd go out of my way to get some kind of attention. Usually, that meant fighting or something. Man, I could work myself up and everyone else too. Yeah, I'd smile about it. Get all hostile. God, I was terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not that person, anymore. I won't say it was Ellie who changed me. I'd changed long before I met her.  It wasn't something that happened over night. I guess I got sick of the way I went about doing things. I was in the same old rut. Finding myself just wanting to get in a fight. Yeah, I scared Lonnie a couple of times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it takes a lifetime to get to know yourself. Think how hard it is then to get to know somebody you're in love with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try not to think of myself falling in love with Ellie. I think.. is it possible..this love. You know, going forward. Finding strength in each other. And well, maybe not laughing all the way, but feeling pretty good about where we are and how its going to be. Together. &amp;amp; yeah, I'd say I love Ellie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia's problem with Roger could be worse. He could be a liar. He could be cheating. He just got drunk and hit somebody because he's in love with Olivia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7873988889472942237?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7873988889472942237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7873988889472942237' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7873988889472942237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7873988889472942237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/love-and-other-attention-disorders.html' title='love and other attention disorders'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4243088701517419872</id><published>2009-08-17T03:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T03:11:00.431-05:00</updated><title type='text'>out of nowhere</title><content type='html'>Man, oh man....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not see this coming. This thing with &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/08/like-bad-alcohol.html"&gt;Nick and Roger&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing, I had no idea Roger could do some damage like that on someone's face. Nick's face of all faces. I mean, he's really the quiet one. I doubt this guy has a devious bone in his body. And he's so vulnerable at the moment. You just know this guy is hurting. Don't know if it really has anything to do with Kelsey or not. You just know he's in a bad way about something. Then Roger goes and hits him in the nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, they make it sound like its nothing in the movies or on TV. But it ain't no fun. It hurts and you don't bounce back like you think you would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had my share of fights. I'd rather get hit almost anywhere, but the nose. Almost. There are a few more tender parts. But you know, the nose. Ugh...gives me nasty shivers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick looked like shit. And I was afraid the nose needed to be tended too, but he was like...&lt;em&gt;no..no..I'm gonna be just fine. I deserved it. I really did. Its all my fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's letting Roger off so easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe Roger would think something was going on with Nick and Olivia. I just don't see Nick sneaking around. I think he's pretty much the type who is by the book when it comes to dating. But Roger was drunk. Never seen him quite like this. Oh well, hope Roger's hand is banged up. He really deserves it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4243088701517419872?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4243088701517419872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4243088701517419872' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4243088701517419872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4243088701517419872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/out-of-nowhere.html' title='out of nowhere'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-5153699633030369988</id><published>2009-08-13T03:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T03:10:00.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just bury myself in a hole</title><content type='html'>All right. It bugs me that Elliot bought a house. I'm sure its not bought and paid for, but still. I'm bugged. I dunno. Just, I don't like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't have to do with Ellie, being with him or anything. Its just his attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried to be nice. He really did. I should give him credit for that. But its this, just be honest, why don't you, you know. I mean, I can see what's up with him in Amanda. Maybe its just Amanda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know things have been tough for her. But Kyle really has given up a lot for her. I guess, she sees it that she's done all the giving up. Evidently. So now she's with Elliot. But is she really happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think Ellie trusts him. You know. He must have been a big flirt, but she went out with him. Just what did she see in him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I'd like to have my own house. I could have my house. I really could. See, my Dad bought Lonnie this old farm and ranch place. Truth be told, I think my Dad likes Lonnie more than me. Now, that's taken a good bit to get used too. Of course, Lonnie would tell you different because he doesn't see it that way. He thinks of himself as the outsider Why am I even bringing this up? Don't want to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I should be talking about is how laid back Ellie's Dad is. I don't think he has a problem with me, but then again, we really didn't go into our living arrangement with him. But I'm sure he can put two and two together. Guess, its not a big deal. Didn't seem to be. He was you know, just asking me questions about what I want to do. That kind of thing. I came up with as much shit as I could without looking like I was full of shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what I want to do. I don't. Just that I want to be with Ellie. I guess the rest of it will fall into place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-5153699633030369988?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/5153699633030369988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=5153699633030369988' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5153699633030369988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5153699633030369988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-bury-myself-in-hole.html' title='just bury myself in a hole'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2085791217034929500</id><published>2009-08-11T03:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T03:15:00.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>don't think about it</title><content type='html'>OK, maybe I was being a jerk. Hard to say. Not really. Believe me, I know how to be an asshole when I want to. And I wasn't. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Rosie is a touchy subject. Its just I couldn't help myself. I'm on Kyle's side. I know Ellie is too. She just knew I was going to cause trouble. But I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I got to meet the &lt;em&gt;awesome&lt;/em&gt; Elliot. Yeah, I really think something is going on there with him and Amanda. I dunno. That look he was giving her. I don't think Ellie saw it because she was just nervous around him. Like he was going to give me tips on how to take care of Ellie. I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it was uncomfortable for Ellie to see an old flame. And better yet, with her friend. Maybe this guy will be good for Amanda. Really, I dunno. He's pretty much a touchy feely kind of guy. I guess. Well, he was with Amanda. God, they have to be having sex. They probably are and I better keep my mouth shut about it, or Ellie might decide to get pretty mad at me. Cause, I know she wouldn't want to think about it. I don't want her to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets face it. Elliot and Amanda are a mute subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying Kyle better get used to this guy around. I'd hate for Kyle to make a bad situation worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh, and I'm pretty much into the touchy feely stuff too on occasion. OK, when I know when I can. I can at the moment with someone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2085791217034929500?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2085791217034929500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2085791217034929500' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2085791217034929500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2085791217034929500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/dont-think-about-it.html' title='don&apos;t think about it'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7021670082998661435</id><published>2009-08-08T20:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T20:08:07.295-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just in case</title><content type='html'>OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm meeting Ellie's dad. I hope he's in a good  mood. See, my dad is rarely in a good mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, don't know what his problem is, but there was a time I was pretty sure I was going to be just like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I'm glad I'm not like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, yes, I'm a little nervous. Sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not going to let it get to me. Just not. I'm going to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still not sure whats up with Ellie wanting to get a crib. Is my imagination, or is something happening here? I mean, I don't think she's pregnant. I don't think it would happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It kind of makes me smile though. That she wants to.  Have this room all ready.Just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, we probably won't have a kid at our house ever again, but we'll have a crib. What is she thinking?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7021670082998661435?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7021670082998661435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7021670082998661435' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7021670082998661435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7021670082998661435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-in-case.html' title='just in case'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-5961431510171141031</id><published>2009-08-06T23:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T23:41:12.847-05:00</updated><title type='text'>all these thoughts rushing in</title><content type='html'>Man, I can't believe how many memories came back to me about Charlie, after seeing Rosie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kyle is so lucky to get to see her so often and spend time with her. She's so adorable. She must look like her mother. Her bright red hair. I know it was hard for Kyle to leave her. He's so young, but  he seems really devoted to Rosie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess he's got a lot on his mind. Finding out the mother of his child is with somebody else. He found out from a friend of his. When I was his age, and something like that happened. You know, a girl would do something like that to me. I'd get ugly. I really would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty hostile with Sarah when she'd pull stunts like that. It was always a vicious cyle. You know, well, if you do that I'll do this. I don't know why we just didn't mess each others stuff up. Instead, go and do something stupid. Go out with people you didn't even like. Just so petty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what changed in me. Really. Maybe it was seeing how Lonnie treated Sarah. He really was the better boyfriend. He was just so calm, you know. And he treated her as if he thought she was this wonderful girl. I knew she wasn't. She could play me. She knew how to push my buttons. She could make me go crazy. Then all the drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just kept watching, thinking, why couldn't I be more like Lonnie. And yeah, meeting Irma again. I was so determained we were going to have this solid foundation relationship that I guess I forgot about her in the process. It was all so misleading. Don't know why it was that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the factor that she'd had this heavy duty crush on me during high school, and I didn't even notice her once. I felt guilty about that. You know, how could I make it up to her. Well, that didn't work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then this thing comes along with Ellie, out of no where, and I just couldn't help myself. It was like a feeding frenzy of some sort. I dunno. I'm laughing with her. Not at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what to expect now. Not sure I should even think about it. Going home with Ellie to meet her Dad. I get to meet Rosie's Mom. I wonder how that'll go. She's probably mad that Rosie isn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then this whole Charlie thing. It makes me want to contact Sarah and see whats going on. I want to know about him. Yet, I think its best not to get involved with her. It would just be toxic. It would do Charlie no good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope he's OK. I wonder what he's doing right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-5961431510171141031?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/5961431510171141031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=5961431510171141031' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5961431510171141031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5961431510171141031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/08/all-these-thoughts-rushing-in.html' title='all these thoughts rushing in'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4724764663431030585</id><published>2009-07-30T14:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T14:19:03.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>don't even think about it</title><content type='html'>Its going to be Ellie's birthday, and she didn't even mention it to me. I don't why she's like that. I know she doesn't want to make a big deal out of it. But she'll be 18. Almost 21. Well, 18 should be really big even if 21 is bigger, but then you feel the need to get shitfaced. What does that exactly accomplish? OK, yeah, I've been there. But this is 18 and well, I pretty much treated it like I was 21 at the time. Yeah, I'm not quite as stupid as I used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I want this to be nice. You know. Sweet. Cause she is really sweet, and she means so much to me. How do you say something like that without gushing or going too far? Its just... am I sure about her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really thought I had everything in place with Irma. I mean, it was more talk than anything. She was really crazy about me. And she was amazing. Smart. Just adorable. But that was a time I thought she could fix my life and well, I really was trying to get away from Sarah. You know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live and learn. Live and learn. I sort of left things hanging with Irma. When Sarah did that number on Lonnie. I just wanted to take the blame. You know, how she was. Now I know it wasn't my fault entirely, but still I felt I owed her. We had a history. A rotten one. And yes, I was pretty much a jack ass. Not that I actually ever got violent with her. But there were times, it was like she could push all the wrong buttons, and it was if she got off on that sort of thing. Really, it was all toxic. But we turned it around. Maybe. She seemed better, you know after she got pregnant again. I always thought that's what it was. You know, she was hung up on what had happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, why am I thinking about this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a fresh start with Ellie and I want to make the most of it. Not think about the past. Because I'm not going back to it. I won't. I am happy. I can really smile about everything. She just has this way. And I can I make her happy too. I can see it in the way she looks at me. I know I'm just as good for her as she is for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going to make her birthday, possibly silly and well, a laugh, if nothing else. I'm going to do what feels natural. And it will be her day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4724764663431030585?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4724764663431030585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4724764663431030585' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4724764663431030585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4724764663431030585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/07/dont-even-think-about-it.html' title='don&apos;t even think about it'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7847472138978557207</id><published>2009-07-24T20:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T20:34:37.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kind of pissed</title><content type='html'>Actually, I'm NOT sure if going to that club or what ever it was... was such a great idea with Roger. I don't know what he was trying to prove. Maybe I'm just getting old, but my hearing is still a little off. The music was just loud. Really annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just didn't get into until the last hour or so. Maybe because some sweaty dude tried to hug Ellie. Yeah, I was pissed and well, I didn't get in a fight. The dude scared me. Some. OK he did. And you know, I just wanted to get out of there. Then it was like swimming in humidity. If I come down with the flu or something after this I'm going to be angry with someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on top of that I've got to go to work in the morning, and I was so tired when I got home. I don't think Ellie was in that great of mood, either. I just hope it wasn't me who put her in that mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope I can find a way to make it up to her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7847472138978557207?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7847472138978557207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7847472138978557207' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7847472138978557207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7847472138978557207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/07/kind-of-pissed.html' title='kind of pissed'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3950810310986360621</id><published>2009-07-20T20:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T20:21:45.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>presents and what have you</title><content type='html'>Well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I could tell you...other that I'm glad Ellie's back. Its like everything can get back to normal. I think. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was a little troubled by the whole Roger and Olivia thing, but I don't think it'll let her get the best of her, you know. Hope not. Doesn't seem that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she mentioned this Nick. Is that going to be another old flame I should worry about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really worried. Actually. Not about Eric or Elliot. God, all these E's. What is it about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie's Mom gave me chap-stick. I wonder if she thinks I kiss a lot. Yeah, that made me laugh. She got me a lot of soap and stuff to shave with. Some cologne. And beef jerky. I can really use that beef jerky when I'm out working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even believe she remembered me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3950810310986360621?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3950810310986360621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3950810310986360621' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3950810310986360621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3950810310986360621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/07/presents-and-what-have-you.html' title='presents and what have you'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-676206223169247889</id><published>2009-07-17T12:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T12:35:07.202-05:00</updated><title type='text'>send him to the moon</title><content type='html'>I officially don't get Roger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I can't believe he said that. &lt;em&gt;Don't judge me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is that suppose to mean, exactly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. Seriously, I'm worried about Olivia. I mean isn't Roger a bonafide gay guy? Or he was. I guess. Its just if I were her, I don't know if I'd trust him. Like, what he meets some guy, even at the grocery store, and you know, has to have him or something. Then what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Roger's got to get in my face about all of it. I really wanted to hit him. I did. But I didn't. I probably would have upset Olivia and Ellie would be mad at me. Maybe she'll beat him.  That kind of makes me smile when I think about it because she knows how to handle Roger. I dunno how she does it, but she can give him one look, and he just backs down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just glad she's coming home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-676206223169247889?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/676206223169247889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=676206223169247889' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/676206223169247889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/676206223169247889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/07/send-him-to-moon.html' title='send him to the moon'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2684036332754308395</id><published>2009-07-14T12:30:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T12:39:09.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just thoughts</title><content type='html'>I dunno how I feel about this exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, sure I think Olivia is a sweet girl. And you know, she's old enough to make the right choices. But with Roger?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's he gonna do, try on her clothes? I'm just saying he's &lt;em&gt;a wild and crazy guy&lt;/em&gt; for starters. And yeah, I could see that happening. Who know, might be the kind of love that last a life time. Hard to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I have to be the bad guy. I didn't know what was gonna happen when I had to talk to her great Aunt. I feel kind of bad for her, actually. Cause I guess, they move Olivia in to kind of take care of her. You know, sort of. Nothing major. Just have somebody around. I guess. But that's a lot to ask. I mean,  Olivia got a life too. I just think it was too much for the both of them. I don't think the Aunt wanted to be worrying about Olivia. She shouldn't have too. You know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we'll see how this pans out. Maybe it'll be great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haven't heard from Ellie. I hope things went OK with her and Leia. I think something else is going on too. Just not sure I know. She kind of talked about it to me. Then I'm all like trying to figure out, &lt;em&gt;which guy are you talking about&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope we are OK. I want us to be fine, but then you start to wonder, is fine boring?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say just make the best of each day. That's all I can really ask for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2684036332754308395?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2684036332754308395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2684036332754308395' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2684036332754308395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2684036332754308395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-thoughts.html' title='just thoughts'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6855078432717024475</id><published>2009-07-08T14:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T14:54:23.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just maybe</title><content type='html'>Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Ellie I loved her and then I hung up on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't heard from her sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if that was the wrong thing to say? Already? I mean, you know, we do things together. You know. Sex. And I hope she knows I wouldn't be doing that with her if I didn't have feelings for her. You know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I do love her. She has to know that. And I think she loves me. It feels that way. Especially when she's around me. And she lets me lay my head in her lap when we watch TV. Thats the best. Her fingers in my hair. God, I love her hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope she doesn't hate me. But thats how I feel. And, well, I was like, what if I don't get out of this.  You know driving Roger's car. She has to know I love her. She means a lot to me. And..and I hope I didn't fuck this up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roger on the other hand. What is up with that dude? He might have feelings for Olivia. OK, I know he does. I can see it. The way he is around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, this dude is not straight up gay. I guess. I dunno. I'm not sure a psychology book would do any good to help me figure him out. You know, he's gay. He's not gay. I'm beginning to think he's one of those kind of people who loves to be needed and thats what its about. And then where do you go when that's over? Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope he's good to her. And isn't just playing her along. Because, she's so damn sincere, and I'm going to try to stay out of it. Because this is a Roger thing. I'll be the big brother I have to be. Honest, I'm not that good of a big brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think back with Lonnie. How I was. I mean, he's seen me at my worst and yeah, I was real jack ass about what's her face. I feel better if I don't even say her name anymore. So I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Lonnie knows me. He really does. God, I wish he didn't know me so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno. I don't even know if I want to mention this Roger thing to Ellie. Oh well, wait and see. Wait and see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6855078432717024475?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6855078432717024475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6855078432717024475' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6855078432717024475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6855078432717024475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-maybe.html' title='just maybe'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6212356723634836541</id><published>2009-06-30T23:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T23:22:46.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>how long</title><content type='html'>Honestly, I didn't think I'd miss her so much. But I feel like I've got the wind knocked out of me. Ellie, off at her parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this job. I dunno. I guess its all right. You know, for now. We'll see. The Manager seems OK. And you know, everybody seems to be from around here, but me. So yeah, definitely feel like the outsider. Don't even care if I get to know these guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just, you know, think about Ellie. I mean, I'm not worried she's gonna hook up with some old flame. I hope she finds her friend she's worried about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its just I miss how her skin feels on mine. Like when I hold her hand and I see her wrist. Its just like, totally amazing. I just have to touch her wrist. I love her lips too. Her chin. Even her elbows..and the obvious places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When am I going to see her again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so crazy. These feelings I have for her. I mean, I haven't been away from her, until now. I can't imagine how I would have felt if I'd just gone home, you know after the beach and everything. I mean, it was there I knew I wanted to be with her. Anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I'm starting to fidget. I see my cell. I can't wait to call. I just want to hear her voice. I want to know if she's all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if she thinks I'm over the top. You know, am I too much? Am I stifling her? Does she feel OK, around me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we're OK. I think so. She's been sleeping lately. I give her a chance to go to sleep before I do. I kind of hit her in the head once. It wasn't on purpose. I dreamed I was playing basketball, and I dunk the ball in and I actually came right down on Ellie. Definitely, not sexy. I mean, I didn't hurt her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was that time I was laughing. I don't know why I do things like that, while I'm asleep. I just do. I don't know if I can sleep without her being there. Its just not natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just feels natural with Ellie. It just does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to try to get some sleep now. I'm gonna try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6212356723634836541?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6212356723634836541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6212356723634836541' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6212356723634836541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6212356723634836541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-long.html' title='how long'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-555406570973748234</id><published>2009-06-27T18:34:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T18:46:44.518-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lawn boy</title><content type='html'>Roger is so not helping the state of things. To tell you the truth.... I can hardly stand being around him. All I hear is &lt;em&gt;Lon the Lawn boy&lt;/em&gt;...oh, isn't that just comic genius. Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see with a little help from Lydia...I got on at the campus with the mowing and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've survived Poison Ivy now and got work. I guess for the summer. Can't see me doing this by the fall. I just got on because so many wanted off the 4th and vacations and you know, that kind of thing. I know. I'm lucky to get it. Its not so easy finding a job these days. So I'll take what ever I can get. And I won't have to listen to Roger pester me about it, either. I'll be a work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord knows, where he'll be. Hopefully, Olivia can keep him entertained. He's a might hyper. If you haven't notice. Of course, this doesn't really do much for laundry that needs to get done. The kitchen always looks a mess when he's finished. I'm doing my share. Really. And Ellie does the rest. So if anybody is on vacation, its Roger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-555406570973748234?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/555406570973748234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=555406570973748234' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/555406570973748234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/555406570973748234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/lawn-boy.html' title='lawn boy'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-781600407278262854</id><published>2009-06-21T13:24:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T07:31:19.804-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Q &amp; A with Roger &amp; Lon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/Sj6ALI_YA9I/AAAAAAAAAfA/lB153FuIFh4/s1600-h/mrrr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 230px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349854336242942930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/Sj6ALI_YA9I/AAAAAAAAAfA/lB153FuIFh4/s320/mrrr.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;So what do you really think of Lon?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: That he knows he's stud muffin. Plain and simple and its disgusting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lon would you like to add anything to that?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lon: Roger has issues. Yeah, isn't that what any doctor would say about the matter? I'm not like that. I'm not anything like that. Really. (winces hard)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you think you'll ever get along?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: What would be the point? He's selfish. You'd think he owns Ellie the way he is around her. Has he let the two of us alone for a minute? Don't think so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lon: What do you want to do with her? Have a girl's night out? I'm not stopping her from doing anything with you. Ellie can do whatever she wants. Really. (gives Roger a hard glare)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: Yeah, right, I don't believe you. You'd be jealous. (gives a hard glare right back to Lon).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lon:You're the one jealous. Not me. (crosses arms, and continues to stare at Roger as if this is a stare down contest)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: You are so wrong about me. I don't care. You know, I really don't. I have other friends, you know.(Roger swells a frown)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lon: Oh, so its Olivia. Is that it? Is that your only friend Roger, or are you just using her?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: I'd never use Olivia. Never. (Roger in a huff now as he looks away with arms still crossed)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;So what's your ideal date?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lon: A quiet evening out. Dinner. Dancing. I don't know. Where ever the night takes you. I suppose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: That is so run of the mill. I would take her where she'd want to go. A concert. A movie. Wouldn't matter to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lon: Her? What are you talking about? Wouldn't it be a guy you'd be going out with?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: Not necessarily. (Roger shakes head)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;So would there be a morning after?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lon: Certainly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: Yeah, sure. Strawberries in bed. Champagne. Bring it on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lon:You know, he's making shit up. Like who does that?(Lon stares at Roger then)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Roger: I am so much more spontaneous than he is. Lets face it. Lon is boring. (Roger smirks)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-781600407278262854?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/781600407278262854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=781600407278262854' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/781600407278262854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/781600407278262854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/q-with-roger-lon.html' title='Q &amp; A with Roger &amp; Lon'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/Sj6ALI_YA9I/AAAAAAAAAfA/lB153FuIFh4/s72-c/mrrr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-5909242478007792571</id><published>2009-06-20T14:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T14:24:31.572-05:00</updated><title type='text'>well....</title><content type='html'>YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have underwear!&lt;br /&gt;2. I have work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm....for a bit anyway. You know, just yard stuff. Its for that professor that Ellie works for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will admit Lydia is a little dingy. Can't imagine who she would have played in Vicki Christina Barcelona. You know, was she the uptight type or the artsy one. Maybe she was neither. Not that I want to know. I really don't want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its kind of scary when she looks at me and I know what she's been writing about in that novel. Which I haven't mentioned to Ellie as of yet. I might not. Really, I don't think she wants the details, but uh, that Lydia must have been something when she was younger. What if she's still that way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not want to know her too much. I don't. She might want to sketch me in nude or something. I will definitely not let that happen. Don't want to have nightmares about it. Believe me, it would be a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that...well....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roger and Olivia. I'm not sure I know their story. I just feel Roger is sending her the wrong signals. That's all. Maybe he doesn't even know. But he's kind of clingy. And Olivia seems like she's just playing her part, you know. Like its a bit part, but she's OK with that for the time being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wish Jay was here to make real enchiladas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-5909242478007792571?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/5909242478007792571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=5909242478007792571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5909242478007792571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5909242478007792571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/well.html' title='well....'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-8746293282141105933</id><published>2009-06-16T15:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T15:46:48.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>its like this</title><content type='html'>OK, its set up. Paying rent, but I'd pay more, you know. I will. I think it'll be more, but then I might be paying for it, putting up with &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/06/room-with-view.html"&gt;Roger&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder where he was last night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should not ponder that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, he saw me with my shirt off. He gave me a look. But I don't think it was one of those looks where I should be worried. I just annoy him. That's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there his this Spanish novel to decipher. Lets say, its very interesting. And the funny part is, I can actually figure out some of this stuff out. Woooo...Momma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I want to tell this stuff to Ellie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, getting mighty humid out there. I need less clothes. If only we could just stay in and enjoy each other's company. Is that asking for too much?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-8746293282141105933?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/8746293282141105933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=8746293282141105933' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/8746293282141105933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/8746293282141105933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-like-this.html' title='its like this'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-608051205621108075</id><published>2009-06-14T16:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T16:17:34.855-05:00</updated><title type='text'>to be or not to be</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-little-secret-after-another.html"&gt;Boyfriend&lt;/a&gt;. How can I define that term? Actually. I mean, its so defining and yet puzzling. I mean, its not where you put a ring on it or anything, really. Well, I guess I could. But that really is..old fashioned. And a bit much at the moment. Yet, don't want to take advantage of it, either. Of course, I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit, I'm not just her boyfriend, I'm fuck'n sleeping with her with the works, you know.  What would her Mom think then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'm a stinking Liar is what I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should just call her up and tell her who I am. I should have the guts to do it. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no, I'm going to leave that to Ben...because, that's his job. Let him do that, Yeah, that's what I'll do. What you do, you hold out and enjoy every free moment until then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And being the boyfriend. Well, that means so many different things, you know. Some girls, it means the guy who buys you what ever you want at the mall. Glad Ellie's not like that. Thank God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, not that I don't want to. Its just don't want it expected of me, either. I don't think she wants me to buy her things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have to be there for her. And that's really what I want. To be there for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, just to not dwell on it, you know. Just let it happen. Yeah, that's where its truly at. Just let it happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-608051205621108075?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/608051205621108075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=608051205621108075' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/608051205621108075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/608051205621108075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-be-or-not-to-be.html' title='to be or not to be'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6315266620219174183</id><published>2009-06-11T01:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T01:14:00.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>does anybody else have a problem with this?</title><content type='html'>All right. Its not like I'm going to bring this up with what's his name.... Um, Roger. I'd never ever talk about this with him. And here I am about to discuss it to anyone who might read this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Scenerio: Would you fart in front of your...well, significant other?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confession: I can't do it. I still can't do it. Maybe it all boils down to the time when I was a kid and my Dad did it in front of who ever he was with at the time. And I was so disgusted. How could he? I mean, she was kind of pissed. And I thought right then at the age of nine, I'm not gonna be that kind of guy. Not gonna. Not me. Not gonna be a thing like my Dad. He still does it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK...I might take it a step further. I cannot do (I'll be really careful with this one since who knows might read this) a number 2 when Ellie is around. And this whole trip, has me all messed up. Seriously, like clockwork I can do number 2 at least once a day and generally its after breakfast. And I'm thinking, well, if she leaves for class, I can go to bathroom, and its totally cleared up until the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know, like I shouldn't even be all worked up over this, but I am. I know I'm not perfect, and my dad always said, "Hey, if you can't fart in front of the one your with, you aren't comfortable with them." Like I would listen to that. This is the kid who skipped out of school, just to go home to go to the bathroom then try to sneak back into school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6315266620219174183?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6315266620219174183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6315266620219174183' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6315266620219174183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6315266620219174183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/does-anybody-else-have-problem-with.html' title='does anybody else have a problem with this?'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6734663314037112590</id><published>2009-06-09T03:24:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T03:24:00.849-05:00</updated><title type='text'>which book are you in</title><content type='html'>Man, I think we're on the same page. I hope we are. I want us to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe its just to hard to tell with Ellie. I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm crazy about her, but then I start to think...God, it wasn't all that long ago that she really was this little girl(well, she really isn't all that tall), and here I am with her. I don't know what I'm getting at. All right I'm older. Not that old. Well, its not like I'm thirty or something. But you know, I think about where I've been, things I've done. Hell, I'm a lot older than her. She's almost 18. I'm 22. OK, I'm 4 years older. God, I hate math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could give myself a headache thinking this shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no need too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What good would it do her to talk crap like that? Nothing but depressing both of us. And why do that? Huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, this is a start. No need to look back. This is us. This is not something where you gotta wonder, oh this dude can't have a life unless he's got a woman. Fulltime. No, no...this is like a chance of happiness, you know. And you gotta nurture it, make her see she's loved and hoping you'll get it right back in return. Something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that too much to ask for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6734663314037112590?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6734663314037112590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6734663314037112590' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6734663314037112590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6734663314037112590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/which-book-are-you-in.html' title='which book are you in'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-664233053869982102</id><published>2009-06-08T04:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T04:06:04.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the right of way</title><content type='html'>Quite possibly, I've done it this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new found enemy Ben aka Ellie's half-brother, my late employer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it'll be hell to pay if all goes to hell with Ellie. I guess. I have a feeling he wouldn't be happy if Christ himself fell out of the sky and took Ellie for his bride. Ben wouldn't like him, either. I wonder if he feels the same way about his other sister?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, Ellie is his little sister. And true they haven't known each other that long. Well, maybe he knew, but she didn't. But I guess that's a lot to live up to, or make up or something. I mean, you can only do so much as a brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The closest thing I can come to understanding where he's coming from is the time when Lonnie started seeing Sarah. I knew it would trouble. But what was I suppose to say? He was all so against Steph back then. Thank God, he found the right one to be with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph can be stubborn, and she looks like she could be this little sweet thing you have to protect when really she's strong and could walk a mile or two for you any day without so much a peep out of her. She's good. She's really good for Lonnie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day Ben can say that about me. Yeah, right. Never gonna happen. But I thought we were friends, and he took me on when nobody else would. Said I had potential. Well, you know with the whole animal hospital thing. I mean it was outside work. I helped with a few animal deliveries and what not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, probably wishes I was there working for him instead of being here. Hopefully, he doesn't think we're going at it 24/7.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-664233053869982102?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/664233053869982102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=664233053869982102' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/664233053869982102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/664233053869982102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/right-of-way.html' title='the right of way'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6046860999557631663</id><published>2009-06-06T02:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T02:09:00.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>its just......</title><content type='html'>I'm not the only one in love with Ellie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, her &lt;a href="http://elliencompany.blogspot.com/2009/06/coming-home.html"&gt;roommate&lt;/a&gt;, who's positively gay, but he's in love with her. He just is. Roger can say no all he wants to, but I know its killing him that I'm sleeping with her. But that's just it. I wouldn't be. I wouldn't. I mean, that was not the plan. She'd said, "Oh, you can stay. You'll have your own room and everything....."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, he's keeping that fucking room for himself. Don't know why? Really, I don't. I mean, is he gonna make it his love dungeon or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not that I hate Roger or anything. I don't know him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I do know.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's just crazy. Crazy for Ellie and I can't even tell her because..because then she'd think I was the one with the problem. And I don't want to be the one with the problem. And hey, I'm in. I think the dude made a mistake, but I'm not gonna worry him about it. Not at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still got to get the rent worked out and get all situated. Its all so new, you know. I haven't lived in the city for quite a while. Well, my Mom has her beautiful house which, I'm quite frankly afraid to piss in. And she has her friends and her life etc., I'm not a part of that. And I haven't talked to her in ages. And I don't want to. I do not want to have to call her for money. I won't. I'll do my damndest to never ask her for anything. Once she gets a grip on you, she won't let go. And I definitely can't have that right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I'm a bum. I'm that bum bumming off Ellie at the moment. I know Roger doesn't like it, and frankly I don't give a damn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6046860999557631663?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6046860999557631663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6046860999557631663' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6046860999557631663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6046860999557631663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-just.html' title='its just......'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7385579150906437323</id><published>2009-06-03T01:54:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T01:54:00.904-05:00</updated><title type='text'>then she came along</title><content type='html'>I really want to explain this. I really do, but I don't know how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ever been intoxicated over someone? Well, that's what it was like. And I didn't think I could be like that, you know. Not now. Not after what I went through with Sarah. You know, my luck, hey... maybe I should just forget women altogether. Be a monk or something. I mean, I had intentions, like that. I got some work. Not real work according to some, but still, I wasn't sitting at home or anything. And you know, Sarah couldn't ask me for child support and everybody kept telling me how lucky I was. But I didn't feel lucky. I really didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then when I met Ellie, I was an idiot. Quite a fool. Show off. But she hung on to every word I said. I knew of her by Lonnie. We talked about him some, but he's got Steph, and well, really, he's taken. Nobody is getting Lonnie but Steph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like nothing could go wrong that night I was with Ellie at Lonnie's graduation. It was fun. I just kept smiling, like I had a stupid disease. Then I got her to dancing. And I don't know what it is about dancing, but you just get this feeling that you can be a part of each other. You know how she'll react and what she's capable of. I mean, I hadn't sensed that in a long time. But it was good. Like good sex should be. Where you just can't get enough. I just didn't want to lose it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I just wanted to see how far we could go that night. Something like that. And we were in her car. And I wanted her, and she wanted me. I think I tried to talk her out of it. Maybe. Maybe not. Guess not. Evidently not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't regret we did it in the back of her car, but then, I just didn't want her to say goodbye, either. I just couldn't leave it, "When will I see you again?" That would have just been lame. So I got the idea for the beach and god damn, it was sweet. Nothing nor no one was going to talk us out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we are just doing this backwards now. Well, not the sex, but us. I think we're going forward. Yeah, its going forward. And its really more than just the sex. We had a fine time at the beach. Just made me want to be with her more. And no way, would I want to make things bad for her. Because I love her smile. She makes me smile. Its just, I hope she wants to be with me. I got to find a way that she'll know it was worth it. I know its too soon to say it. But I'm in love. And I don't mind being Lon Love, anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7385579150906437323?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7385579150906437323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7385579150906437323' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7385579150906437323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7385579150906437323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/then-she-came-along.html' title='then she came along'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1053782975797546358</id><published>2009-06-02T01:42:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T01:42:01.157-05:00</updated><title type='text'>there was a time</title><content type='html'>All right. This is how it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I thought I could make it up to Sarah somehow after all I had put her through. She always made it sound it was my fault. I really thought so. Damn, she made me miserable. Didn't help with the almost restraining order, either. Yeah, she says there was, but really it never was. Just a threat.&lt;br /&gt;2. So I let it go. I did. It was rough. And I thought the only way to do it was just to get on with things. Then she started seeing my little brother.&lt;br /&gt;3. Honestly, I hated it right from the start. I knew it wasn't Lonnie's fault. He's a good kid. And I knew he thought he was the better man. Maybe he was, but I knew she'd do something to him. Some how. Because Sarah is like that.&lt;br /&gt;4. Then when she got all suicidal and what not. I was like, how could she do that? Why would she do that?&lt;br /&gt;5. And here I thought I could save her. Me. I just though, you know, get back to the basics. And I was pretty much living the basics then out on that ranch. But it was good. It really was. That's where I belonged. Then she came along. I was certain it would work. Really, thought it would. Sold myself on it. Only, it didn't do either of us any good in the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1053782975797546358?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1053782975797546358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1053782975797546358' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1053782975797546358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1053782975797546358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/there-was-time.html' title='there was a time'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7667510427260949608</id><published>2009-06-01T01:27:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T01:27:00.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>you know what they call me</title><content type='html'>So how can I explain this? Well, I can't. I'm not really good at those kind of things. Never have been. Actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know what they're thinking, "he's gone and done it again." Possibly more like, "Well, he's a fuck'n jack ass like always." Yeah, I've heard that line a few times. Don't know what it is about me, but I tend to be trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe though..maybe its meeting all the wrong people that bring the worst out in me. Yeah, that could be it. I mean, yes, I've had some real set backs this year. All right, maybe the last few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted getting mixed up with Sarah was the bigest mistake I ever made. There was the time I thought it was the best. Of course, at the time, I thought she was going to have my kid, and I could live with her shit. I knew what she was made of. I did. She's a real piece work, and it was something like love. It felt something like it. Of course, half the time it felt she had knife, screwing it in tighter about something, most times, but still. Maybe I thought I deserved it. After all, we had a history. Complicated at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had secrets from the get go. Granted, I'm not perfect even if Irma said so. Yeah, I know, it could have been something really special with her. I know that. Just I thought she deserved something better. Cause, I wasn't who she thought I was. Wish I could have been, but I was still messed up over Sarah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I'm such a dumb shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Ellie changed everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only, I'm still a dumb shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7667510427260949608?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7667510427260949608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7667510427260949608' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7667510427260949608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7667510427260949608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-know-what-they-call-me.html' title='you know what they call me'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-5149557734000624605</id><published>2009-05-22T01:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T15:52:57.131-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lon Love - the beginning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/TRPEklaDufI/AAAAAAAABmU/yvNKLYhQLUQ/s1600/sonewlon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/TRPEklaDufI/AAAAAAAABmU/yvNKLYhQLUQ/s400/sonewlon.jpg" width="316" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. what is (usually) the first thing you think about when you wake up in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;be thankful you have another day and how not to fuck it up.&lt;br /&gt;2. what is (usually) the last thing you think about when you are falling asleep at night?&lt;br /&gt;how useful was the day.&lt;br /&gt;3. in relationships, do you let your heart go all the way? or do you hold back from bonding with others?&lt;br /&gt;yeah, there is no stopping the heart on certain situations.&lt;br /&gt;4. what keeps you sane amidst it all?&lt;br /&gt;hard work&lt;br /&gt;5. what drives you to (the brink of) losing it?&lt;br /&gt;certain people, but I did my best not to let them get to me.&lt;br /&gt;6. are you proud or ashamed of the way you live your life? (the way you act... the things you do... the things you say... the way you treat others...)&lt;br /&gt;hard to explain. yes, there are lot of things I'm ashamed of, but I'm trying to change. Thats all I can say. Each day is a new day, and well, all there is.. is to go up instead of beating myself down about things I've done. It helps to know my family is there for me, but I really hate to take anymore advantage of them than I already have.&lt;br /&gt;7. do you live your life for yourself? or do you live your life for others?&lt;br /&gt;I tend to do better living for someone else than just living for me. I get in all sorts of trouble when I'm just living for me. Maybe I just don't like myself. I dunno what it is.&lt;br /&gt;8. do you feel like you have control of your life?&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;9. how many years have you been living so far? 22.&lt;br /&gt;10. what is your raison d'etre (reason for being)?&lt;br /&gt;wish I knew. it seems to change. I think I know what I want, and its really not that much.&lt;br /&gt;11. do you believe in God? Yes&lt;br /&gt;12. do you take illegal drugs? not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;13. what are your addictions? (drugs, coffee, gambling, alcohol, internet, sex, food, stealing, nicotine, etc.) not that much anymore. alcohol has had its share of me just as much as gambling, but then that leads to fighting so I try to leave that alone.&lt;br /&gt;14. how long do you think you are going to live? if you had to predict or guess? not sure&lt;br /&gt;15. how long do you wish you could live? To have a family of my own and watch it grow.&lt;br /&gt;16. your best memory... going on a horsback ride and ending up in the lake.&lt;br /&gt;17. your favourite thing to do on a date? I'm not sure I know what that is anymore&lt;br /&gt;18. what makes you smile, each and every time? When a girl smiles at me and there's this connection. Its better than alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;19. when was the last time someone kissed you? I'd rather not think about it.&lt;br /&gt;20. as Jim Morrison said... (pretend you are looking back...) Did you have a good life when you died? good enough to base a movie on? Hell yeah, well..some of it. Maybe not all of it. But I've been in some pretty good fights, and crap I should forget about. Then a relationship that has taken a toll on me.&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/2564147150092597487-5149557734000624605?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/5149557734000624605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=5149557734000624605' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5149557734000624605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/5149557734000624605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/lon-love-beginning.html' title='Lon Love - the beginning'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/TRPEklaDufI/AAAAAAAABmU/yvNKLYhQLUQ/s72-c/sonewlon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6362429105376597982</id><published>2009-05-19T03:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T03:05:00.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the end</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/ShGmeb2hMpI/AAAAAAAAAa8/YAO-dDa1_V8/s1600-h/lonnie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337230075213460114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/ShGmeb2hMpI/AAAAAAAAAa8/YAO-dDa1_V8/s320/lonnie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/ShGmPOIa9OI/AAAAAAAAAa0/djCoK0C6RrU/s1600-h/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. what is (usually) the first thing you think about when you wake up in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;take a piss.&lt;br /&gt;2. what is (usually) the last thing you think about when you are falling asleep at night?&lt;br /&gt;think about steph, sometimes lon and sometimes sarah.&lt;br /&gt;3. in relationships, do you let your heart go all the way? or do you hold back from bonding with others?&lt;br /&gt;it depends. usually, in the end my heart wins.&lt;br /&gt;4. what keeps you sane amidst it all?&lt;br /&gt;steph&lt;br /&gt;5. what drives you to (the brink of) losing it?&lt;br /&gt;teachers. sometimes my step-brother when he's a hot head.&lt;br /&gt;6. are you proud or ashamed of the way you live your life? (the way you act... the things you do... the things you say... the way you treat others...)&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm doing ok at the moment. I've never had that many problems with others even though I think at times I should have when I look back on it now, but I didn't think they were worth the trouble to get that angry over. Except Jen. Who was a friend, but isn't anymore since I've gotten to know how she treats other people.&lt;br /&gt;7. do you live your life for yourself? or do you live your life for others?&lt;br /&gt;That is a good question. Its like a paradox. Um, yeah, I think I live well..for Steph and yet I know she makes me feel better about what I'm able to do too. She makes me feel loved.&lt;br /&gt;8. do you feel like you have control of your life?&lt;br /&gt;Most times. My parents are there for me. Actually. And I feel I have to be there for my Dad. At least. Not so sure about my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;9. how many years have you been living so far? almost 17.&lt;br /&gt;10. what is your raison d'etre (reason for being)?&lt;br /&gt;to embrace the situation.&lt;br /&gt;11. do you believe in God? Yes&lt;br /&gt;12. do you take illegal drugs? nope.&lt;br /&gt;13. what are your addictions? (drugs, coffee, gambling, alcohol, internet, sex, food, stealing, nicotine, etc.) guitar hero and Steph&lt;br /&gt;14. how long do you think you are going to live? if you had to predict or guess? No clue.&lt;br /&gt;15. how long do you wish you could live? A lot longer.&lt;br /&gt;16. your best memory... seeing this baby colt be born. it was really gross. I thought I was going to throw up, but it was like, wow, that huge thing came out that horse's butt. And the mare was so happy to see it too. Pretty amazing. &amp;amp; then there is trying to learn the tango with Steph.&lt;br /&gt;17. your favourite thing to do on a date? Go anywhere with Steph. I wish we went out dancing more, but there aren't too many places to go too.&lt;br /&gt;18. what makes you smile, each and every time? Steph mostly, but my Uncle Ed can do some funny stuff too.&lt;br /&gt;19. when was the last time someone kissed you? like last night.&lt;br /&gt;20. as Jim Morrison said... (pretend you are looking back...) Did you have a good life when you died? good enough to base a movie on? Well, it wasn't the Outsiders or anything, but there were a few spectacular moments, perhaps...especially with Steph&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/2564147150092597487-6362429105376597982?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6362429105376597982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6362429105376597982' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6362429105376597982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6362429105376597982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/end.html' title='the end'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iDg4IvUi4K4/ShGmeb2hMpI/AAAAAAAAAa8/YAO-dDa1_V8/s72-c/lonnie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-748728778806980915</id><published>2009-05-18T03:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T03:42:00.598-05:00</updated><title type='text'>right up there</title><content type='html'>So have you ever done the tango?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I'm doing it right. Or maybe ...we're not doing it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you're not suppose to do it to &lt;em&gt;Poker Face&lt;/em&gt; by Lady Ga ga. Anyway, it is fun. Lots of fun. OK, I'm not suppose to admit that. And I wouldn't to any of my buddies. But yeah, its wild, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We watched a video on the internet about it. Steph and me, so we thought we'd learn the steps. You know, it wasn't going to cost us anything, and I didn't step on Steph's toes, not once. OK, throw in the Mexican two-step and a whril here and there. And we got our own tango. You know, pushing on each other, shit like that. Almost right up there with sex. Well, all most. I mean, it can leave you breathless. The heart a pumping. She's smiling. I'm smiling. Yeah, we are propably not doing it right cause those dancers look all serious and passionate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is so damn fun. No one was home when we did it. We started in the kitchen and ended up in the livingroom cause we went everywhere twrilling around and dipping and what not. It was like a very fine moment in time. And I can't wait to do it, again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-748728778806980915?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/748728778806980915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=748728778806980915' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/748728778806980915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/748728778806980915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/right-up-there.html' title='right up there'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-6711507483395289231</id><published>2009-05-17T02:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T02:58:00.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>questions</title><content type='html'>1. What is your name?&lt;br /&gt;Lonnie&lt;br /&gt;2. What is your significant others name?&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie&lt;br /&gt;3. How long have you been together?&lt;br /&gt;A few months but it seems longer. A lot longer&lt;br /&gt;4. Is this a long distance relationship?&lt;br /&gt;no, we see each other every day. practically.&lt;br /&gt;5. How did you meet?&lt;br /&gt;at school. we sort of went to homecoming together only i had another date and she went with my step brother.&lt;br /&gt;6. Do you have any children together?&lt;br /&gt;no, not yet.&lt;br /&gt;7. Do you plan on getting married?&lt;br /&gt;maybe, but it'll be a long time from now.&lt;br /&gt;8. How long do you plan on waiting?&lt;br /&gt;probably after college. don't know for sure.&lt;br /&gt;9. Do you have any other interesting story about the two of you that you want to tell me?&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think she was my type, or that I was her type. But I guess opposites do attract.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-6711507483395289231?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/6711507483395289231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=6711507483395289231' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6711507483395289231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/6711507483395289231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/questions.html' title='questions'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3076396541017117254</id><published>2009-05-16T14:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T14:25:58.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>6 quirky things about Lonnie Love</title><content type='html'>1. I like to skateboard in an abandoned feedstore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I like to explore old houses &amp;amp; buildings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I like popcorn the day after I get it at the movie theater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I love hats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I like jerky for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I like beans on my pound cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks &lt;a href="http://imnotovertrash.blogspot.com/"&gt;em&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3076396541017117254?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3076396541017117254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3076396541017117254' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3076396541017117254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3076396541017117254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/6-quirky-things-about-lonnie-love.html' title='6 quirky things about Lonnie Love'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2202751838575529573</id><published>2009-05-14T14:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T14:57:12.097-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kick it!</title><content type='html'>Oh, we had to do it. Just couldn't help but take the afternoon off and go. Ain't no way I want to pay 10 bucks for a movie. Matinee, much cheaper, but the treats aren't. And you can't watch Star Trek without popcorn. By the time it was over we needed mentos gum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say, there is definitely a touch of LOST in this movie. Oh, yeah, we watched that too last night. Won't be back til 2010. What will we ever do meanwhile, wondering where's Juliet. But back to &lt;em&gt;Star Trek.&lt;/em&gt; Yeah, Zach Quinto did shine as Spock. I loved Simon as Scotty too. Just wished he'd been in it more. I here they signed up for 3 more of these epic movies with&lt;em&gt; Star Trek&lt;/em&gt;. Maybe William Shatner will be in one yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, its been a lovely day. Not to hot. Still really gorgeous out. Don't find too many days like that, lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are off to see Jay. Says he's grilling out tonight. School's not even out yet, and it already feels like summer. Think he and his lady might camp out at Hordes Creek Lake for Memorial day weekend. And we've been invited. Definitely a good way to kick off summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2202751838575529573?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2202751838575529573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2202751838575529573' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2202751838575529573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2202751838575529573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/kick-it.html' title='kick it!'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2723486323010782150</id><published>2009-05-10T10:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T10:16:39.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's day!</title><content type='html'>Just making the rounds today. I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph will be off with her Mom doing something for Mother's day. Sounds like a great alone time with Mom. I guess. Maybe some gardening. They always plant flowers on Mother's day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to Jay's then we'll go see Nana and take her out to eat. It'll be sweet. Jay insisted on getting her chocolates. Although, I doubt she needs them. I opted for a pot plant. Peppers. Yes, she loves peppers. The plant makes these little tiny peppers and they go great in a bottle of vinegar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then even later. For dinner. I'll be going out with the family for some nice meal at a steak house. We went to town yesterday to get Lauren cards and stuff. Lori got her Mom this Mother's Day T-shirt. Logan had to get an &lt;em&gt;I Love You&lt;/em&gt; necklace. Lori swears he gets her the same one every year. Oh well. He says it was just an &lt;em&gt;I Love Mom&lt;/em&gt; necklace last year. And then they had to have a fight about it. Usually, they don't disagree on that much, but you know, it was all "who loves Mom more." I so wanted to laugh. It was kind of cute, but then it got out of hand at the store and I had to use the tactic, "What would Mom think if she knew you were acting like this?" And then Logan has to say, "You called her, &lt;em&gt;Mom&lt;/em&gt;." He made a big production out of that. That finally I'm a real brother because I called his mother, &lt;em&gt;Mom&lt;/em&gt;. Fine. Whatever. I have a feeling he'll bring this up today. Can't wait to see how that pans out. But Lauren is really a good Mom and well, we should all do something nice for her. I got her some flowers to plant. Steph helped me pick them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going to miss Steph today. Wish she was going out with us to dinner. I guess I better get dressed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2723486323010782150?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2723486323010782150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2723486323010782150' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2723486323010782150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2723486323010782150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s day!'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-253752805226033754</id><published>2009-05-08T20:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T20:38:50.099-05:00</updated><title type='text'>here ya go</title><content type='html'>The rules*:1. Respond and rework; answer the question on your blog, replace one question that you dislike with a question of your invention, and if you want -add more questions of your own!2. Tag 8 other people * If you feel the need to do this..then please do. I'm not tagging anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your current obsession? guitar hero &amp;amp; my girlfriend Steph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What songs are currently on constant repeat?&lt;br /&gt;- the sounds – queen of apologies&lt;br /&gt;- placebo – pure morning&lt;br /&gt;- american idol's Adam – ring of fire&lt;br /&gt;- the teenagers – homecoming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite food?- jay's enchiladas &amp;amp; his salsa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;favorite smell? a horse's sweat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you wearing today? my trusty feed cap, run dmc T, worn out jeans and pointy-toed dusty boots that were my brother's.(he said I could do anything in them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is today special?- Steph's coming over to play guitar hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you like to learn to do?&lt;br /&gt;braid a bull-whip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are in your pockets?&lt;br /&gt;gum wrappers, some loose change, my wallet &amp;amp; Steph's chapstick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the last thing you bought?a ring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your most challenging goal right now? keeping my grades up and working for Mr. Hough and seeing Steph&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could have a home totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you like it to be?&lt;br /&gt;Some where around here in West or Central Texas. Austin would be nice. Maybe. But really I like a rural area west of Fredricksburg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your must have piece for summer?&lt;br /&gt;baggy swimming trunks..you know, the kind that goes down to your knees. I hate my legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you like to have in your hands right now?&lt;br /&gt;a cold VOLT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you like to get rid of?global warming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?&lt;br /&gt;Six Flags&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are your plans for the future?&lt;br /&gt;ahhhha..I dunno be with Steph &amp;amp; in college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm, million things but with time the world will know? your best days have already happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who do you want to meet right now?? S.E. Hinton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is your favorite model? I don't have one. But I think Emma Stone is hawt. Does that count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;favorite label/shop? I don't like labels and usually I wear what is either given to me or handed down to me. &amp;amp; then there is Walmart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favourite piece of clothing in your own closet?&lt;br /&gt;My blue/black striped hoodie. Wish it was cool enough out to still wear it. Can't forget my favorite flannel pants to play guitar hero in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you had 10,000 dollars now, what would you spend it on?&lt;br /&gt;Steph but then I wouldn't mind a better truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you admire anyone's style?- &lt;a href="http://smellslike--teenspirit.blogspot.com/"&gt;Matias&lt;/a&gt; naturally &amp;amp; &lt;a href="http://dapperkid.blogspot.com/"&gt;the dapper kid&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Describe your personal style? relaxed, laid back, comfortable &amp;amp; a tad 70 ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you going to do after this? Play guitar hero with Steph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you love to see come back in fashion? comfortable stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think about the person who tagged you? &lt;a href="http://smellslike--teenspirit.blogspot.com/"&gt;Matias&lt;/a&gt; is great, so artistic &amp;amp; creative &amp;amp; very sexy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-253752805226033754?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/253752805226033754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=253752805226033754' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/253752805226033754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/253752805226033754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/here-ya-go.html' title='here ya go'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-229716534773585274</id><published>2009-05-05T16:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T16:49:40.662-05:00</updated><title type='text'>to mark the occasion</title><content type='html'>We're going to Jay's tonight for Mexican food. Steph and me. It should be fun if I don't drink. I know Jay will want me too, but I don't want him to get in trouble if I get in trouble. So no, I won't be drinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got Steph a ring. Its just sterling silver. We were just walking around at this store and well, there was a sale. They were like fifty or so bucks but I got it for twenty. She just saw this ring. And she liked it. It sort of has this I want to say "Spanish" look to it, but I don't know that for sure. But its silver. What she really wants in an Indian wedding band with turquoise. I know Nana has one that she couldn't wear because her fingers got too fat. She'd wore it when she first got married. It was my grandfather's mother's ring. So I guess it wasn't actually hers. But Jay found it in some of her stuff so he wants me to give it to Steph. I told him he had to call Nana first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm like..but we already got this ring. You know, and Steph was the one who liked it, and I just got it for her because she liked it. Anyway, I'm trying not to cause trouble. And I hope Steph is OK with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how you can go months and days and what ever without much happening and you feel all safe in your comfort zone, then something like a ring gets you thinking about obligation, and what does this mean and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess whats a little more freaky is the timing. I mean, definitely, not a purity ring. Possibly, just the opposite. Yeah, we did it. Finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't going to mention it, but you know, I can't. Because it was so, um, well, it felt right. Although, we didn't really plan it. Exactly. Its like we were listening to all these other people, go on and on about the when and where of their moment. The moment to be.  And I dunno what to say. And Steph doesn't know what to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I really didn't think it was going to happen. Us. I mean, I didn't actually have a plan. And you know, where do you go for something like that? Why not the Llano river. Yeap, our first time was in the middle of the sand bar on the Llano river. Water rushing all around. Nature at its best. It was so freaking scary. I mean, we could have had a snake of some kind in our bedroll. Thank God we didn't, and I really didn't think much about that until the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think about snakes, poisonous ones too, I'm like, what in the world were we thinking? People wearing mask to stay away from the swine flu, and here we are hoping to land on the right rock so we won't fall in the river in the dark. But no, I wasn't really thinking about danger. It was like being on this adventure. Our adventure. And man, it was hours to drive there. But we're all alone. On this quest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, she'd told me she'd been on the pill for two years. I was shocked. I didn't believe her at first. Not that I asked. But she showed me the package of pills and everything. And told me how she wanted to be prepared for the worst case scenario possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And then I'm like, "You'd be up for something like that..." And she just smiles. And I ask where..and that's how we decided on the Llano River.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know, we're idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we have rings to mark the occasion. Cheap rings by anyone else's standards. Mine is just a "peace be with you" sterling silver band. Don't care if its a girl ring or not. I'm wearing it proudly. We almost got Survivor rings. But that would make it sound as if was over when its just begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, I can't help smiling about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-229716534773585274?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/229716534773585274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=229716534773585274' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/229716534773585274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/229716534773585274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-mark-occasion.html' title='to mark the occasion'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-9074109865641128178</id><published>2009-05-04T01:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T01:22:00.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not like at the movies</title><content type='html'>I dunno why I had to get so...you know, nervous. It was the same old crowd. You know, not like we invited people from different schools for a dance off or anything. Its just been freaky lately. And I still might have had a brain fart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, why do these teachers have to question your intentions? I think they thought I'd been drinking, but I wasn't. I hadn't. Do they worry about the silly girl who drank straight from the punch bowl who I think was high or something. No. Jen was all, 'oh its nothing.' It was something all right. It was her friend too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph thought I was mean to her. I didn't fret much over it. It was nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph looked really pretty and well, we danced a little, but her shoes hurt her feet so we didn't do too much but watch other people be silly. No one was serious, you know. Maybe that's how the whole punch bowl thing got started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evidenly, somebody got lucky with Ashley. Well, Cole had some idea that he kind of told Steph and me who were sitting in the bleachers. We just looked at each other thinking we didn't really want to hear this. But I don't think Jen would let Ashley get very far. So I don't think there was anything to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Steph took her shoes off and we danced. A lot then. So yeah, it was good. It was like getting my second wind or something.  Just thankful we got to have our Prom because a lot of schools are closed right now due to the swine flu. But I didn't get to stay out all night with Steph or anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-9074109865641128178?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/9074109865641128178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=9074109865641128178' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/9074109865641128178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/9074109865641128178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/not-like-at-movies.html' title='not like at the movies'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4180127454067106358</id><published>2009-05-02T12:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T12:38:18.095-05:00</updated><title type='text'>worrying for nothing</title><content type='html'>I feel so out of it ..already. And its not quite even prom. You know, not until tonight. I so need a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole week has been freaky with people getting sick and all. Some aren't even going to have Prom at their schools. We are. I should be happy about that, but still, I'm tired. Sleepy. Kind of irritable. Like..you know, am I gonna be sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I'm thinking I need a nap. Maybe that'll help. I'll feel all relaxed and what not. I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, why am I like this? I mean, its no big deal. Really? Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want Steph to be happy and you, have a good time. That's all I'm really after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I have to spend most of the morning at the Houghs. I don't really have a headache. But I might..and you know what they say..that's how it starts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. My nerves are just shot. That's all. That's all there is to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4180127454067106358?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4180127454067106358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4180127454067106358' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4180127454067106358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4180127454067106358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/05/worrying-for-nothing.html' title='worrying for nothing'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7467563281261817920</id><published>2009-04-27T21:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T07:47:59.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thinking back</title><content type='html'>OK, now I feel a little bad about being so down on Lon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called. Gave me this pep talk about Prom. How I had to show Steph a good time. As if I didn't know how. Actually, he wasn't like that, but you know, telling me how I had take the time to enjoy the whole thing and do good things for Steph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, he's an all right brother. Even though, he didn't talk about Sarah. Not once. And I was afraid to ask, and maybe its just useless to figure it out. Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I got Steph and well, we had an OK Homecoming, but I want Prom to be better. You know, cause we're really going out now. And I'm like her full-fledged boyfriend now. Granted, I'm not as macho as some of my guy friends are ..with their dates. Like they can't be hugged by the girl with the guys around and other stupid crap, like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care. I'll hug Steph anytime I want to, you know. Or when she'll let me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I feel we're really good friends and that's important to me. We can talk about most anything. And well, she hasn't gone running off when the Houghs come calling and want us to do something. She's right there. Opening gates. She even sat on the calf other day while we were giving it a shot of something because it was sick. OK, we both had to sit on it, but didn't do much good. They're really strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I've got to think about Prom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7467563281261817920?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7467563281261817920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7467563281261817920' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7467563281261817920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7467563281261817920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/04/thinking-back.html' title='thinking back'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3538594686340631791</id><published>2009-04-24T23:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T23:14:20.907-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not that much to write home about</title><content type='html'>Maybe I'm suffering from some post-trauma thing. You know Sarah. But I haven't been thinking about her. I haven't. Its Lon I'm worried about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, they aren't married. I don't think he would. And granted they live in like a, what do you call it, an old cowboy bunk house. Not the best conditions by any means. Its kind of crappy. Which is totally fucking crazy cause Lon wasn't raised that way. His Mom's rich. You know, he went to good schools when he was a kid and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lived in Dallas, for Christ sakes. The good part of town, too. So you know, what gives? He's like all back to basics stuff now. Like survival crap with out the camouflage and war paint. Just real ranching. He says he might even start bull riding again.  But then he can talk up stuff, you know. Its hard to believe him, sometimes. You know, how he was all set to marry Irma and how he told me all this shit- how they were so sexed up and what not. And then come to find out that wasn't even true. Maybe nothing is true with him. I dunno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if he's really happy. Maybe deep down he's not all that hard to figure out. Maybe. Like he just wants to keep things simple. Maybe that's the way he wants it. The bare essentials. Nothing fancy. But I gotta wonder if Sarah is all that keen on that way of living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my step-mom about what was going on. I was gonna keep quiet about it, but I just couldn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know, I should be thinking about Prom or something. But its nothing that fantastic.  Really, dreading to hear what they find to dig up for the band to play. It'll be awful. Always is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3538594686340631791?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3538594686340631791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3538594686340631791' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3538594686340631791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3538594686340631791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/04/not-that-much-to-write-home-about.html' title='not that much to write home about'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-4939819283314305959</id><published>2009-04-18T16:34:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T23:00:55.718-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a OK</title><content type='html'>It was awkward as hell seeing Lon and Sarah. What was I thinking? Going out there. I mean, I'm really glad Steph went with me. I didn't think her parents would go for that, but last minute they'd said OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evidently, they trust us. I mean, its a long ride out there. And Lon was really cool. He was. We just didn't talk about Sarah's condition. I guess you'd call it that. Total silence, you know. I mean, why hadn't he told my family about it, you know. Just freak'n crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying not to let it get to my head.... cause you know..why worry for nothing..that that kid might be mine. And that's not even the scary part. I'm hoping it isn't. But its not what you think. She'd taken a drug overdose and all. That can not be good for a kid if she was pregnant then, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, they are back together. I guess all is normal. I'm back home. Everything is going to be OK. Or at least Steph keeps telling me that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-4939819283314305959?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/4939819283314305959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=4939819283314305959' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4939819283314305959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/4939819283314305959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/04/ok.html' title='a OK'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-381330104584880938</id><published>2009-04-17T07:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T07:54:44.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just bitch'n</title><content type='html'>All Right. I'm back. Can't say all is right in the world. Especially, the one I knew. But I can adjust. I can. I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring Break was kind of .... well, freaky. I guess. The best word to describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See I went somewhere with Steph because you know, I love traveling with her. She's got this calming effect. Not like put you to sleep sort of thing. But you know, just to be with. And I'm glad she was with me. Cause.....well, I found something out. Actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to see my brother Lon. And he's great. He's really great. Its just.... I didn't know Sarah would be with him. I thought about it from time to time. Nightmares, I guess. But they are together. And if that's not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah's gonna have a baby. And I'm pretty sure its his. I guess. I don't want to think its mine. It just couldn't be. I don't think. But then well....it just makes me sick at my stomach to think the possibility that it could be....you know, mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really trying not to think that way. But its really hard not letting it show. You know, how I feel. So yeah, spring break has been a bitch. To say the least.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-381330104584880938?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/381330104584880938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=381330104584880938' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/381330104584880938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/381330104584880938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-bitchn.html' title='just bitch&apos;n'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-3720958051837362639</id><published>2009-04-09T22:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T22:21:16.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>spring break</title><content type='html'>I dunno whats so great about it because I've been working my ass off. I know. I'm getting money so I should be pretty happy about that. Of course, I can think of easier ways to get paid. I'd really like to have a job in town where I'm actually learning something, you know, on the computer or whatever. Instead, Steph and I rode the fence line out on horseback. That was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph brought along treats for us and the horses so that made me happy and well, you know, she makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad's a little worried about grass fires. Not any yet. I guess the scariest one was this neighbors' last year. The fire first spread across the field behind the house and almost got the garden and their little eight year old was so scared. She made sure she got all her books out of the house. She didn't want them to burn up. Luckily they got that fire out in the nick of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been talking more about taking a road trip. Just not sure I should tell anyone where we are going. It'll be a surprise. I mean, I really gotta get away from here just to say we went somewhere, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm being a wise ass probably. But we're going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-3720958051837362639?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/3720958051837362639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=3720958051837362639' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3720958051837362639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/3720958051837362639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-break.html' title='spring break'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-7971683328879113588</id><published>2009-04-04T07:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T07:48:31.604-05:00</updated><title type='text'>you know me</title><content type='html'>OK.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know its been awhile. Sorry. Kind of busy. School. Studying. Steph. Mrs. Hough getting sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear I never thought I'd get this involved in somebody else's family. Really. I mean, you know, I wanted a little money. Show my dad I was responsible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, hell....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get told by Mr. Hough's son yesterday, "GET OFF OUR PROPERTY." It wasn't like I was stealing or anything. I was just trying to get the sheep fed. So I dunno. I mean, what am I suppose to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told my Dad right away about this dick's attitude. I mean, Mr. Hough is off with his wife at the hospital and stuff. So I get to see Dad in some real action with this so called laid back fellow who's out here from Dallas.  My Dad got in his face. It was awesome. I think Lon got all those genes, not me. I might as well be a whipped puppy when it comes to shit like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back in business. Gotta go do some feed'n. Steph is ready and wait'n.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-7971683328879113588?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/7971683328879113588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=7971683328879113588' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7971683328879113588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/7971683328879113588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-know-me.html' title='you know me'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-1745827268002987201</id><published>2009-03-25T22:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T23:05:19.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>definitely not american idol</title><content type='html'>I've decided its allergies. Yeah, not a major illness. But it might as well be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring. Yeah, that's what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Hough does a peculiar thing when you're out driving with him. He sings. Kind of hums. Well, its something to pass the time away. I guess. Kind of quirky. He doesn't listen to the radio. I had to go all the way to Winters to pick up some feed with him today. It was a very long drive. But not really. OK, maybe twenty or thirty miles away on a very thin highway. Old highway. And I had to listen to him sing some old cowboy tune. OK, I couldn't hear every word because well, it might have been just humming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like this. I feel over worked and underpaid, but then who doesn't. There just don't seem to be enough hours in the day. Good thing though, it has rained so that means no grass fires to worry about for a little while. But if the wind keeps blowing and drying out things...one more thing to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeap, sometimes you want to be as far from the country as you can be, but then there are times you just can't get enough of the wide open spaces. Of course, I had plenty of time to day with Mr. Hough and his singing. I'm just happy he didn't want us to sing a duet on that drive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-1745827268002987201?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/1745827268002987201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=1745827268002987201' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1745827268002987201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/1745827268002987201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/03/definitely-not-american-idol.html' title='definitely not american idol'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564147150092597487.post-2448029772333905895</id><published>2009-03-23T22:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T22:42:31.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>short and sweet</title><content type='html'>OK, I had a dream I went out to that ranch to see Lon. And Steph was with me. Of course, I think I had more fun being with her than actually seeing Lon. Because in my dream he was hiding something from me. I don't know what it is. But I really do think he's hiding something from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel foolish for even thinking it. Cause, I don't know what it could be. I really don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that school sucks. But when doesn't it. I am still doing stuff for the Houghs so I'm kind of busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to wonder what it feels like not to be tired. Track is starting. And I feel like I'm running in my sleep. My step-mom is starting to think I have mono. I don't know anyone who has it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2564147150092597487-2448029772333905895?l=thislonnielove.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/feeds/2448029772333905895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2564147150092597487&amp;postID=2448029772333905895' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2448029772333905895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2564147150092597487/posts/default/2448029772333905895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thislonnielove.blogspot.com/2009/03/short-and-sweet.html' title='short and sweet'/><author><name>ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IEPB7PmW6Yw/TmUM3ib5EpI/AAAAAAAACKg/ECWv8OTDl7s/s220/agnnn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
