<?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-38899402</id><updated>2011-07-31T03:00:32.753-05:00</updated><category term='Work'/><category term='Andy'/><category term='Blogging'/><title type='text'>I Still Choked A Bitch Once...</title><subtitle type='html'>It's a nice change, this calm that surrounds me.  I like it.  Hang around.  Chaos finds me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38899402.post-7623868680579740213</id><published>2009-06-12T17:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T17:25:53.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh.  I have a blog.  Who knew?</title><content type='html'>I'm getting married February 6.  I have a pretty dress, invitations, and a lot of decorations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how planning a wedding for 600 of our closest friends and family consumes one's life.  Tomorrow I'm going shopping for shoes, jewelry and a bunch of other crap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange thing is, I don't really care about any of it.  I just want to get hitched and get it over with.  Hope the food is good and I can boogie and get a little drunk.  That's all I care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you find yourself planning a February vacation, feel free to head this way!  You know how to reach me for details.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you guys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38899402-7623868680579740213?l=stillchoking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/7623868680579740213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38899402&amp;postID=7623868680579740213&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/7623868680579740213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/7623868680579740213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/2009/06/huh-i-have-blog-who-knew.html' title='Huh.  I have a blog.  Who knew?'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38899402.post-5577714692782003569</id><published>2008-10-03T17:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T17:23:00.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I got bling, baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6rnXyKmPGCU/SOaa6fGfJOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Pz_4YZoeIAI/s1600-h/Ring.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253056344946058466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6rnXyKmPGCU/SOaa6fGfJOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Pz_4YZoeIAI/s320/Ring.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38899402-5577714692782003569?l=stillchoking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/5577714692782003569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38899402&amp;postID=5577714692782003569&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/5577714692782003569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/5577714692782003569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-got-bling-baby.html' title='I got bling, baby!'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6rnXyKmPGCU/SOaa6fGfJOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Pz_4YZoeIAI/s72-c/Ring.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38899402.post-6915684959673693858</id><published>2008-09-29T18:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T18:32:29.024-05:00</updated><title type='text'>HOLY CRAP!</title><content type='html'>I'm engaged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I know, I suck at blogging. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But forgive me, for I am getting married in February of 2010.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38899402-6915684959673693858?l=stillchoking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/6915684959673693858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38899402&amp;postID=6915684959673693858&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/6915684959673693858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/6915684959673693858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/2008/09/holy-crap.html' title='HOLY CRAP!'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38899402.post-1438392263611513231</id><published>2008-06-18T17:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T17:09:20.364-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Andy'/><title type='text'>Unanswers</title><content type='html'>Andy works at GM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that may say a lot to some of you and very little to some of you.  He has enough seniority (13 years) to hold a job for now.  GM has announced that they will close the plant here by 2010.  At that point, we don't know what the hell we're going to do.  Well, yeah we do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll have to take a transfer if and when one is offered to us.  We'll move to Missouri, Kentucky, or some other state.  Probably not Detroit, Flint, or Fort Wayne, though.  Andy would prefer to not work at a plant that you have to go through metal detectors on your way in, and I don't blame him one bit.  It just leaves so much in the air for now.  My job, I'd better not get too attached, since I don't know when I'll have to go.  Or where.  Or how much notice we'll have.  It's so stressful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main thing is that he's worked 13 years so he'll only have to work 17 more.  The pension offered to him at age 49 is better than what some people make while working!  (Assuming it'll still be around.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been thinking about going back to school, but I'm afraid to start to only have to leave.  And if we move, I'd have to wait a while for school, since I can't afford to pay out of state tuition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many questions.  Any questions that remain, I don't have answers for.  Nobody does.  GM is closing in this area, and the economic windfall is going to be big.  It's a scary time for Southern Wisconsin, and it almost makes me glad I'll be leaving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38899402-1438392263611513231?l=stillchoking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/1438392263611513231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38899402&amp;postID=1438392263611513231&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/1438392263611513231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/1438392263611513231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/2008/06/unanswers.html' title='Unanswers'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38899402.post-6024553596683356614</id><published>2008-06-13T17:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T18:19:47.437-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Andy'/><title type='text'>Debris</title><content type='html'>I don't remember the exact day that I decided I was tired of it.  I needed a break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, there's pressure in this.  I couldn't deal anymore with everyone needing to know what was going on, and then telling me exactly what they thought of it.  I was tired of being judged every time I hit "Publish Post". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had some great readers, some dedicated people.  I had some people I considered friends even though I had never met them.  It's like having a pen pal that you share with others.  It's knowing that all these people were going to be happy for me when I was happy, or be genuinely concerned when I wasn't.  And then I wondered...why isn't it enough for me to just be happy, without needing others to be happy for me?  And just to be sad and carry on if that's how I feel.  The need to share it all went away.  Part of it, for me, was that I found someone to share everything with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If something bothers me, it's not a blog that gets my first thought, my initial reaction.  That's not what it's about.  He gets the raw me.  He gets to see my often times roller coaster type emotions, and he gets to help me sort through them.  That's what it's about.  He is lucky enough that he gets to hold onto me when I'm upset or gets to see the twinkle in my eye when I'm up to something.  He gets my laughter and my tears, and he gets it all first.  I wouldn't change that for anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that I'm realizing that just because he gets it first, doesn't mean that everyone else can't get it at all.  I enjoy this, I like having the reactions of people in the sometimes crazy and sometimes mundane life that I narrate.  And I completely enjoy reading about your lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just might be back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38899402-6024553596683356614?l=stillchoking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/6024553596683356614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38899402&amp;postID=6024553596683356614&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/6024553596683356614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/6024553596683356614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/2008/06/debris.html' title='Debris'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38899402.post-8176588230878753063</id><published>2007-05-31T09:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T10:10:36.811-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wondering</title><content type='html'>After three months of dating, is it too soon to be excited about your wedding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hypothetically, of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38899402-8176588230878753063?l=stillchoking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/8176588230878753063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38899402&amp;postID=8176588230878753063&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/8176588230878753063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/8176588230878753063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/2007/05/wondering.html' title='Wondering'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38899402.post-117647631510754193</id><published>2007-04-13T09:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T09:58:35.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just for my reference</title><content type='html'>Dear Amy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget this feeling.  When life wears at you, don't forget the feelings you have right now.  How you are actually sad that he left to go hunting so you have to go an entire week without seeing him.  When he's driving you crazy, remember how he makes you laugh at yourself and him like nobody has been able to before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember this feeling right now, how you're beginning to get the feeling.  THAT feeling.  The one in your gut.  The one telling you that you might be able to actually see yourself marrying this guy.  Don't forget how much fun it is just kissing him, or teasing him, cutting his hair because he's not capable of doing it right himself.  Don't forget the first time he gave you the remote, and told you to choose.  Then vetoed Friends right off the bat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in the fights, never forget how much he's making everything worthwhile right now.  How he looked at Melissa and told her "She loves me."  How he fits in with your dad and brother.  How Jeremy actually said that he'd be pissed if you broke up.  How cute your sister looked in his hat, and how comfy his hats are when you steal them.  (2 so far!!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't tell you how much he's fallen for you.  That's not his way.  Remember how you can see it in his eyes, when he can't wait to kiss you every time he sees you.  The cute way he reluctantly admitted that Bauer is such a cute little guy.  Remember the way he'll kiss you in the middle of the night, just because he can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember these times, just in case the future isn't as great as it is now.  Remember how wonderful he makes you feel, even when he's frustrating the hell out of you.  Remember how instantly you felt that you were in this thing called life together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how you feel now, when you're falling in love with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38899402-117647631510754193?l=stillchoking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/117647631510754193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38899402&amp;postID=117647631510754193&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/117647631510754193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/117647631510754193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/2007/04/just-for-my-reference.html' title='Just for my reference'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38899402.post-117502384397338844</id><published>2007-03-27T15:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T11:16:26.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>100 Things About Me!</title><content type='html'>I had this up before, but I've revised it. It's updated, and it's a lot more revealing. Dig in! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I am afraid of bridges.&lt;br /&gt;2) I dislike most cats.&lt;br /&gt;3) The first dance at my wedding will be "Me &amp; You" by Kenny Chesney.&lt;br /&gt;4) I listen to all kinds of music, including hip hop, but am a sucker for love songs.&lt;br /&gt;5) I am horrible at drawing, even stick figures.&lt;br /&gt;6) The worst relationship I've ever been in wasn't really a relationship at all.&lt;br /&gt;7) I'm shy.&lt;br /&gt;8) I never took the SAT.&lt;br /&gt;9) I envy my brother because he's very smart.&lt;br /&gt;10) I was accepted to go to the University of Minnesota, but I chickened out.&lt;br /&gt;11) I haven't smoked pot in years, and have no desire to.&lt;br /&gt;12) I love and trust very, very easily.&lt;br /&gt;13) I've never lived anywhere but in Wisconsin.&lt;br /&gt;14) I take a pill every day for depression and I hate it. But it's better than the alternative.&lt;br /&gt;15) I have never ridden a horse.&lt;br /&gt;16) I enjoy writing papers, and am a grammar/spelling nut.&lt;br /&gt;17) It took me 23 years to not bite my fingernails.&lt;br /&gt;18) I'm not a normal girl. I don't play games and I'm very easygoing.&lt;br /&gt;19) I sucked my thumb as a child.&lt;br /&gt;20) I think love can conquer all.&lt;br /&gt;21) I think it's possible to achieve having both love and lust with one person forever.&lt;br /&gt;22) I got a tattoo when I was 18, and I don't regret it yet.&lt;br /&gt;23) It took me over two years to realize that the guy I thought was the love of my life is a complete loser.&lt;br /&gt;24) I'll never make that mistake again.&lt;br /&gt;25) I am almost always late.&lt;br /&gt;26) Settlin' by Sugarland is the song that pretty much saved my life.&lt;br /&gt;27) I prefer male gynecologists.&lt;br /&gt;28) Flattery will get you everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;29) I used to believe in love at first sight, now I realize the difference between love and lust.&lt;br /&gt;30) I only keep a few close friends.&lt;br /&gt;31) I am trying to be a good cook.&lt;br /&gt;32) I am horrible at getting bills paid on time.&lt;br /&gt;33) I have never been in a car accident when I've been driving.&lt;br /&gt;34) I got pulled over for speeding a month after I got my license and got a warning.&lt;br /&gt;35) I think my parents have made marriage look easy, and I'm afraid I'll fail miserably at it.&lt;br /&gt;36) I will lie if it will keep someone's feelings from being hurt.&lt;br /&gt;37) If Julia Roberts is in a movie, I'll probably like it.&lt;br /&gt;38) I think I would be a good actor.&lt;br /&gt;39) I think I'm funny.&lt;br /&gt;40) I hate watching musicals, except Grease.&lt;br /&gt;41) One of my favorite restaurants is Hooters.&lt;br /&gt;42) I won't answer my phone usually if a NASCAR race is on the TV.&lt;br /&gt;43) I hate feet.&lt;br /&gt;44) I love shoes, but remove them as soon as I'm inside to be barefoot.&lt;br /&gt;45) I'm afraid of heights.&lt;br /&gt;46) I've been on a canoeing trip.&lt;br /&gt;47) I almost drowned in a wave pool as a child.&lt;br /&gt;48) I don't have a favorite color.&lt;br /&gt;49) I will forgive a guy for almost anything if he gives me flowers.&lt;br /&gt;50) I tip well; even the kids at the car wash who dry my car.&lt;br /&gt;51) Favorite Perfumes to wear: Victoria's Secret Pink, Estee Lauder Beyond Paridise&lt;br /&gt;52) I can smell cologne and be turned on, but it depends on the cologne.&lt;br /&gt;53) I couldn't be with someone who doesn't want kids.&lt;br /&gt;54) I cry very easily.&lt;br /&gt;55) My favorite non-alcoholic drink is Diet Coke.&lt;br /&gt;56) I rarely go out of the house without some make-up on.&lt;br /&gt;57) I love to read.&lt;br /&gt;58) My favorite season is fall.&lt;br /&gt;59) I'm horrible at talking on the phone, I get distracted.&lt;br /&gt;60) I used to want to be a psychiatrist.&lt;br /&gt;61) Shopping honestly makes me happier sometimes, if only temporary.&lt;br /&gt;62) My feelings get hurt very easily.&lt;br /&gt;63) My eyes are one of my favorite parts of myself, I just wish someone else would notice.&lt;br /&gt;64) I have never dated anyone younger than me, and probably never will.&lt;br /&gt;65) I'm addicted to ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;66) I love peanut butter M &amp;amp; M's.&lt;br /&gt;67) I like red headed and dark haired guys.&lt;br /&gt;68) When I am PMSing, I can be really difficult to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;69) I know how to fight, and think I could do well if I had to.&lt;br /&gt;70) I am a very light sleeper, so many little noises wake me up.&lt;br /&gt;71) I regret most of my sexual experiences.&lt;br /&gt;72) I am horrible at math.&lt;br /&gt;73) I was almost named Ashley.&lt;br /&gt;74) I don't like bubble baths, I prefer showers.&lt;br /&gt;75) I think guys who get dirty at their jobs are sexy.&lt;br /&gt;76) I drive an '01 Pontiac Grand Prix.&lt;br /&gt;77) I think cheating is the easy way out and I can't tolerate it.&lt;br /&gt;78) I don't like really skinny guys.&lt;br /&gt;79) I like camping.&lt;br /&gt;80) I don't like anything spearmint.&lt;br /&gt;81) I am fascinated by and scared of supernatural activity.&lt;br /&gt;82) I'll stay very quiet until I am comfortable with a situation or people.&lt;br /&gt;83) I always have my toenails painted. Usually hot pink.&lt;br /&gt;84) I can basically maintain a car, including changing oil. However, I don't.&lt;br /&gt;85) I would choose hanging out with my brother over almost anyone.&lt;br /&gt;86) I am convinced I will be a good mom.&lt;br /&gt;87) I think my mom's mom is a saint.&lt;br /&gt;88) I had lice when I was a kid.&lt;br /&gt;89) I have 3 birthmarks.&lt;br /&gt;90) I think baseball caps are sexy.&lt;br /&gt;91) I think kids can make or break a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;92) I don't think I'll live with someone before I'm married.&lt;br /&gt;93) I want to live in Wisconsin forever.&lt;br /&gt;94) My mom and dad are extraordinary parents.&lt;br /&gt;95) I like learning about cars, and wish someone would take the time to teach me.&lt;br /&gt;96) I take credit for turning my brother into some lucky girl's ideal boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;97) I don't have a burning desire to lose my extra weight.&lt;br /&gt;98) I can honestly say that I love my job.&lt;br /&gt;99) I used to have my tongue pierced.&lt;br /&gt;100) I'm scared that I will never get married or have children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/38899402-117502384397338844?l=stillchoking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/feeds/117502384397338844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=38899402&amp;postID=117502384397338844&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/117502384397338844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/38899402/posts/default/117502384397338844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillchoking.blogspot.com/2007/03/100-things-about-me.html' title='100 Things About Me!'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09244657450128702697</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4151/1762/1600/Sunglasses.0.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
