<?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-7904430382163651427</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:49:01.944-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Plain Jane</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-8604620549509529963</id><published>2008-11-23T19:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T21:21:20.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome To NEW YORK</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SSo4_SP8_TI/AAAAAAAAARk/5XhLy71kpYI/s1600-h/3390_gta_iv_new_york_city_times_square.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SSo4_SP8_TI/AAAAAAAAARk/5XhLy71kpYI/s320/3390_gta_iv_new_york_city_times_square.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272088973672250674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as many of you know, I have relocated myself to NYC- Don't ask me why NYC! There is no professional opportunity or schooling that I'm interested in- although there are not bad schools out here! This was purely a move to mix things up a bit! I did not realize my welcome would be so full of excitement! First there was the appartment- well lets just say I may have wanted to leave the first day I got here- I was worried I might be on the streets. Then there was the job that has just been crazy from day one- going from 2 patients to 4 overnight is a highly stressful change. I sometime wonder how these patient's make it. Then there was the well, the two night stand that came out of the blue. I didn't know I would ever be a stand girl- and it was not by choice. Whatever! Oh and I can't forget the fire that was 3 doors down at the laundry mat. Never seen a herd of firemen with (crow?) bars in hand, break into a building and then have smoke come billowing out. I guess there is a first for everything. I did get to sit next to Kevin Bacon on the bus the other day but I didn't realize it until my roomate pointed it out to me when we got off the bus. This has been an adventure- Every moment changes- Yesterday I was sure I was leaving NYC the next day- today I'm willing to give it 6 months, maybe tommarrow it will be a year- which I hope because I just put my name on a lease for a year. Yeah new appartment. It's got 2 decks- So any of you that want to go camping in NYC let me know! Oh yeah- today we met for church in a broadway theatre so we could have stake conference with the whole stake and Elder Holland- My favorite part was when Elder Holland said, "I feel like yelling Kristine right now. Don't you tell me prayers are not answered. I am having my broadway experience as we speak!" He is a man after my own heart!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-8604620549509529963?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/8604620549509529963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=8604620549509529963' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8604620549509529963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8604620549509529963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/11/welcome-to-new-york.html' title='Welcome To NEW YORK'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SSo4_SP8_TI/AAAAAAAAARk/5XhLy71kpYI/s72-c/3390_gta_iv_new_york_city_times_square.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-8633435433159104732</id><published>2008-09-07T00:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T02:55:31.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a disaster</title><content type='html'>So I bought a new suit the other day. It was a splurge because I needed it for an interview. I made it throught the interview, but the next day I noticed I had a big ink spot on the side of it. Yeah it was bic pen. I called my sister in a panic and asked her how to get it out since she is the miracle washer with three little ones. She told me just to take it the laundry mat. So I took it downstairs to the appartments personnal launderer. He didn't speak much english but basically told me to leave the pen on. I laughed and said, thank you very much I will take it some place else. Frustrated I went and bought my own bottle of rubbing alcohol and preceded to clean the stain myself. To make a long story short- The skirt ended up with an ink spot on the other side too as well as paint from a plastic bag. Oh and ended up in a sink full of water even though it's dry clean only. I almost just threw it away. What a disaster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking I was through with disasters, I was sitting on a friends couch the next night and started sticking to the material. I noticed there was something sticky underneath me. There was carmel all over my butt and the couch. Where did this come from? Oh my purse. There were some milk duds I had bought during a night shift one night and had been sitting in my purse open. Yes there were milk duds stuck to everything: coins, papers, elastics, lipgloss, ect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the story does not end. I promised my mom some cupcakes from Dean and Deluca so I brought her home four. The container they were in was not very stable and I had a box of new shoes sitting on top. The shoes weight broke the container and smooshed all the tops of the cupcakes pushing frosting out the sides. Mysteriously there was also an open box of junior mints that were in the bag. Probably another midnight treat from work. They had poured out and melted onto everything. My cell phone, cell charger, camera, and box of shoes were covered in junior mint/frosting. I looked in the bag, rolled my eyes, and shut it quickly. I did not care anymore. Whatever! I through it in the over head bin on the plane and went to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-8633435433159104732?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/8633435433159104732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=8633435433159104732' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8633435433159104732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8633435433159104732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-mess.html' title='I am a disaster'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-704728131807199106</id><published>2008-08-30T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T08:43:10.405-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Awkward Intervals</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://unold.dk/paddling/php/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2006/07/intervals.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://unold.dk/paddling/php/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2006/07/intervals.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was recently at Disneyland watching their nightly firework show and was bored. I couldn't understand why they would have this array of fireworks and then wait like 1 min between letting off another one. No wonder its an hour long. So as I was complaining about this unentertaing show my cousing Marissa said, "It does have some awkward intervals doesn't it." That is exactly what I was thinking. Thank you Marissa. The words "awkward intervals" kept running through my head when suddenly it hit me; that would be the title for my next blog. It so applied to my life at the moment. You see I have been in an awkward interval. You know, when you suddenly realize something in our life is not being fullfilled or you just aren't happy for some reason. There are lots of awkward intervals in life. You know, like when you are in kindergarten and you start to realize that your friends that are boys cannot be your best friends anymore because they are the opposite sex or in junior high when boys and girls start "going" together or that period of time when youre 15 and you want to go out with friends but you don't want your mom to drive you everywhere. Of course when you graduate from highschool and have no idea what to do next  and then all your highschool friends go on missions and you feel lost again. Then when people start getting married, having kids, divorced, go to jail, or even die. That leads to now when you are still single and trying to be happy with it. Well actually more trying to figure out what your role in the single world is suppose to be. So I have once again hit the wall and feel stagnent or out of place. Maybe that is why the words "awkward interval" rang so loud. I think I'm about ready to see some more fireworks though. I feel another  zone of comfort is in the near future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-704728131807199106?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/704728131807199106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=704728131807199106' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/704728131807199106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/704728131807199106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/08/awkward-intervals.html' title='Awkward Intervals'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-8318288968181146788</id><published>2008-08-07T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T20:15:02.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How the Dark Knight Changed My Life!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://jamessabata.files.wordpress.com/2007/12/dark_knight_18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://jamessabata.files.wordpress.com/2007/12/dark_knight_18.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was talking to my sister the other day and said something that freaked me out! I sounded just like my dad. We both knew it and started laughing. I said  "Bets I know the Dark Knight was fairly dark and violent, but it had a good moral"! My dad is amazing at justifying his warrior side. We would tell him what he shouldn't watch and he would always come up with a good moral to the story and why we should see it. Anyways, so me and Betsy decided to debate on why or why not the Dark Knight was good. I was expecting to agree with her, that it was too dark and played too closely with the "dark side". Surprisingly though, I left with a light hearted feeling inside. I agree it did take dark to the next degree, that was part of the reason it had such a profound effect on me. You see, had the joker not been so evil, the point of, "we choose how life will effect us and the people we become" would not have jumped out at me so strongly. Im sure that was their point. Not like this is a new concept or anything, but for some reason i now can say "I understand". The joker was such a portrayal of someone who let his life situations, and what people had done to him, ruin him. I realized that I had a few things lurking in my closet that could potentially ruin me. I could become the Joker! None of us are immune. Yikes! Yeah so I have turned over a new leaf. I have let go! I no longer care what some kid said to me in fifth grade or junior high. I might even forgive my parents for not buying me a new ice cream cone after I dropped it walking into a pole at Sea World. Tramatic experience. So today I asked my dad if he had seen the dark knight. Yes he had, but for some reason he did not see the great moral as clearly as I did. Hmm maybe movies really dont have a good moral and he just likes to debate with me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-8318288968181146788?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/8318288968181146788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=8318288968181146788' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8318288968181146788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8318288968181146788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-dark-night-change-my-life.html' title='How the Dark Knight Changed My Life!'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-7815197112768639277</id><published>2008-07-26T21:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T22:25:16.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Don't Come</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://butterfly1723.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/mizaru-dont-see-kikazaru-dont-hear-iwazaru-dont-speak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://butterfly1723.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/mizaru-dont-see-kikazaru-dont-hear-iwazaru-dont-speak.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been emotional. Enough said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-7815197112768639277?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/7815197112768639277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=7815197112768639277' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/7815197112768639277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/7815197112768639277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/07/please-dont-come_26.html' title='Please Don&apos;t Come'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-1197519043116947278</id><published>2008-07-26T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:05.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Afraid of the Garden</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SIv4G2sWA2I/AAAAAAAAAMU/kIovqKkJ6eQ/s1600-h/IMG_1447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SIv4G2sWA2I/AAAAAAAAAMU/kIovqKkJ6eQ/s320/IMG_1447.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227544589138002786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to our disaster in gardening last year, we decided to take part in what has become a neighborhood garden in our next door neighbors yard. This garden use to be a playground and so the dirt is very sandy, not what I thought would be good soil. Well I was wrong. This garden has taken root and gone to town. I feel as though it is going to take over like in jack and the bean stock. Every now and then I go out and check on the garden, but I must say I am cautious. You never know what is going to be lurking behind those windy loops of brances and leaves. It brings back memories of the fairy tale theatre flick Rapunzel. That show always creeped me out when they went into the garden to steal the radishes. Perhaps when I go to my own garden I am suffering from some post traumatic stress of something instilled in me when I was a kid, like Rapunzel! Never the less we do have some great crops if anyone is interested. I fear the gigantic squash are going to come eat me!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SIv7fnLK1JI/AAAAAAAAAMk/e-j5iYFznwc/s1600-h/IMG_1256.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SIv7fnLK1JI/AAAAAAAAAMk/e-j5iYFznwc/s320/IMG_1256.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227548313003938962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-1197519043116947278?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/1197519043116947278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=1197519043116947278' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1197519043116947278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1197519043116947278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-afraid-of-garden.html' title='I&apos;m Afraid of the Garden'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SIv4G2sWA2I/AAAAAAAAAMU/kIovqKkJ6eQ/s72-c/IMG_1447.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-3415888329335549035</id><published>2008-07-12T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:06.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>peter parkin's party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SH0XniWAerI/AAAAAAAAAMM/_VUfAafQFeE/s1600-h/IMG_1232.JPG"&gt;&lt;img &lt;br /&gt; Yeah it was pretty much a success! Not on my account, but everything turned out great! Great house, hostess, food, presents, company, drinks, you name it! If you don't believe me, here are pictures to prove it!&lt;br /&gt;The food (great colors huh!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SHmMDzCCGPI/AAAAAAAAALs/A9iU4wo7rj4/s1600-h/IMG_1226.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SHmMDzCCGPI/AAAAAAAAALs/A9iU4wo7rj4/s320/IMG_1226.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222359239779031282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The present&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SHp86_Hky7I/AAAAAAAAAL0/te1l0K7xYa8/s1600-h/IMG_1216.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SHp86_Hky7I/AAAAAAAAAL0/te1l0K7xYa8/s320/IMG_1216.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222624070706973618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party favors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SH0V-ZE3XNI/AAAAAAAAAL8/unH-peqRoAk/s1600-h/IMG_1206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SH0V-ZE3XNI/AAAAAAAAAL8/unH-peqRoAk/s320/IMG_1206.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223355304447007954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-3415888329335549035?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/3415888329335549035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=3415888329335549035' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3415888329335549035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3415888329335549035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/07/peter-parkins-party.html' title='peter parkin&apos;s party'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SHmMDzCCGPI/AAAAAAAAALs/A9iU4wo7rj4/s72-c/IMG_1226.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-5285165433239897098</id><published>2008-07-12T01:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T01:53:35.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>baby baby baby oh baby</title><content type='html'>As I sit next to an open warmer tonight next to a sleeping baby, my mind is thinking about what I have to accomplish tommarrow morning. I am helping to throw a friend a baby shower which I have started to become an expert at. First its the wedding showers, then the baby showers, then I guess the over the hill showers, and then your throwing your own children their wedding showers and the cycle starts again. I have moved past the wedding phase of my life other then the fact that I am not married. Im starting to think I should bypass the wedding all together and jump ahead with my friends to the baby phase. I have stayed up enough with screaming babies to handle things myself, right!?! Oh but wait, I can't give them the good stuff at home. What will I do without my ativan, morphine, fentanyl, or versed? I'm going to be one of those mothers that uses tylenol and benedryl for irritability. So I am making lettuce wraps for the shower tomarrow. I got the great idea from the best wraps I've ever had at the cheesecake factory. I even went and bought their sauces. They should be awesome and the presentation will be amazing, with the green bib lettuce, orange carrots in red cabbage. Green, orange, and purple are great colors together. Oh and I have red peppers- fabulous! I also made a take home gift for everyone. Homemade fudge balls dipped in blue and white chocolate boxed up with an initialized tag. Yes it has been a lot of work, and yes everyone around me thinks I'm crazy, but honestly I enjoy it. I do it because it's fun- I could go buy gifts for eveyone or have the party catered for the same expense, but then creativity goes out the window. That is one of my passions. My sister reminded me of the last baby shower we did that was even more over the top. We not only did fudge balls, but miniture baby soaps for take home gift. Oh and we hand made individualized chicken pot pies that had criss cross crusted tops- oh and we did a rose ball that we hung from the table, plus my sister designed the invitations, and tags for the take home gifts- so I can be over the top and a perfectionist if you didn't know that about me. The hardest part about getting the lettuce wraps prepared tomarrow will be that I have worked all night. Oh well, I will crash and burn after the shower. Oh but wait I have a birthday party to go to. One of the babies I took care of a year ago is having a first birthday party. He was naughty too. He tried to die several times. Finally proof that what I do at my job pays off. Baby, baby, baby, oh baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-5285165433239897098?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/5285165433239897098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=5285165433239897098' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5285165433239897098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5285165433239897098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/07/baby-baby-baby-oh-baby.html' title='baby baby baby oh baby'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-6665489735007939339</id><published>2008-07-09T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:06.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>heres a little something</title><content type='html'>So I have to admit, I've been spending more time on facebook then on blogspot lately- Big mistake and it will never happen again! it Is midnight and I have to work at 7 A so this will be short and sweet- Just want you to know I'm still alive and will try to think of something funny to blog about- life is kind of serious boring at the moment- oh but I do have fun at work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SHWmMLGSM2I/AAAAAAAAALk/AoL15LyjH8E/s1600-h/IMG_1196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer;cursor:hand;"src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SHWmMLGSM2I/AAAAAAAAALk/AoL15LyjH8E/s320/IMG_1196.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221262071073747810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty much LADIES NIGHT every night in the NICU&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-6665489735007939339?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/6665489735007939339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=6665489735007939339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/6665489735007939339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/6665489735007939339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/07/heres-little-something.html' title='heres a little something'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SHWmMLGSM2I/AAAAAAAAALk/AoL15LyjH8E/s72-c/IMG_1196.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-5086548117138637129</id><published>2008-06-05T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:06.321-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Human Balloons</title><content type='html'>So here is the before and after work shot of my lovely legs! Apparently I spend most of the time on my feet. If it's Saturday night, I get so excited to try and fit into my Sunday shoes in the morning. Fellow church mates-You might notice my feet loping over the sides of my shoes if you look closely, but don't. I'm self conscious about it. Interestingly enough I learned that it is possible to get so edematous, that if you poked a hole in your skin, you would actually burst like a balloon. Trust me, I saw one of my patients do this. The infant lost over 200 grams in one night. It was "the incredible shrinking baby!" Maybe that's what I will do before church sunday mornings- a few pins should work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEFORE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SEjEZ3rL8dI/AAAAAAAAALU/h5CPRa05xxs/s1600-h/IMG_0820.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SEjEZ3rL8dI/AAAAAAAAALU/h5CPRa05xxs/s320/IMG_0820.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208628917774840274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AFTER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SEjEy3rL8eI/AAAAAAAAALc/WBt1zMBlrRg/s1600-h/IMG_0835.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SEjEy3rL8eI/AAAAAAAAALc/WBt1zMBlrRg/s320/IMG_0835.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208629347271569890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-5086548117138637129?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/5086548117138637129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=5086548117138637129' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5086548117138637129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5086548117138637129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/06/human-balloons.html' title='Human Balloons'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SEjEZ3rL8dI/AAAAAAAAALU/h5CPRa05xxs/s72-c/IMG_0820.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-3891220078722996572</id><published>2008-05-27T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:06.571-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Night Live or Reality?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDxU0HrL8cI/AAAAAAAAALM/tezH_hHrYu8/s1600-h/Nancy+Grace+Gives+Birth+to+Twins%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDxU0HrL8cI/AAAAAAAAALM/tezH_hHrYu8/s320/Nancy+Grace+Gives+Birth+to+Twins%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205128523723567554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently at work as I sat in the lounge, 2 am, I was entertained by none other then Nancy Grace. Sadly enough there was nothing funny about her breaking news story, yet everyone there was laughing. Why? Can you say dramatic. Now I have known her to be a little weird, but she's crazy! She sat and told us about a brand new baby that had been put into a dumpster and found alive. What could have been explained in a short 2 mins took over an hour. She went into great detail about how the baby was actually found and of course interviewed the guy who saved the baby! Wesley Focker, no joke. Wesley sat and talked about how when he heard the baby crying when he was about to dump his grass into the dumpster from his lawn mower. He yelled for the neighbors to come out of their house an listen to get a second opinion on the sound. Heaven forbid just look into the dumpster yourself. Then Nancy continued to emphasize the fact that the baby had not just been placed in the garbage can but systematically left in a design of sticks and vegetation. Ironically this was the first thing Focker noticed when he looked into the garbage, how organized the trash was! Yeah right. Focker kept saying how the baby probably survived because of the heat given off from the decompensation of the vegetation. Two words I'm sure he had never heard of until the News brodcast. Oh but the drama of having the baby still attached to the placenta and how that was going to effect the baby's life forever. Nancy was just sure, though the baby was listed in "good" condition at the hospital, it would die from the cord not being cut. And through this whole tradgedy and miraculous rescue, the only thing that Nancy could compare it to was the miracle of the birth of her twins. She intermitently posted pictures of her with her twins. Unreal. I was sure I was watching Saturday Night Live!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-3891220078722996572?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/3891220078722996572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=3891220078722996572' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3891220078722996572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3891220078722996572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/05/saturday-night-live-or-reality_27.html' title='Saturday Night Live or Reality?'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDxU0HrL8cI/AAAAAAAAALM/tezH_hHrYu8/s72-c/Nancy+Grace+Gives+Birth+to+Twins%5B2%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-1044949600681382754</id><published>2008-05-17T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:07.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vegas</title><content type='html'>SO I finally made my run for the strip. Despite a lot of patience, I finally gave up on you Laura! But don't worry, I'm realizing I need to do it more for my sanity. I took my cousin for her 30th birthday. Can you say shop till you drop. I did a total of 12 hours shopping straight one day, (thats a shift at work). Hitting 3 malls including outlets. I dragged my cousin Alexandra around. At one point I even tried to dress Alexandra from head to toe. I just couldn't do the sunglasses. FASHION POLICE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL9jaI8R3I/AAAAAAAAAKU/-2nlvJ1p6nc/s1600-h/IMG_0688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL9jaI8R3I/AAAAAAAAAKU/-2nlvJ1p6nc/s320/IMG_0688.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202499304320419698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; When she was done she said, "hmm, I look like you!" She was not interested in any of my picks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL-S6I8R6I/AAAAAAAAAKs/a1dVkf2YB5k/s1600-h/IMG_0677.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL-S6I8R6I/AAAAAAAAAKs/a1dVkf2YB5k/s320/IMG_0677.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202500120364205986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Needless to say I found plenty for the taking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL966I8R5I/AAAAAAAAAKk/C2SVBRQrmSY/s1600-h/IMG_0690.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL966I8R5I/AAAAAAAAAKk/C2SVBRQrmSY/s320/IMG_0690.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202499708047345554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the shopping there was only one thing left to do: Practice our pucker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL9sqI8R4I/AAAAAAAAAKc/OKs7oD98iFo/s1600-h/IMG_0680.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL9sqI8R4I/AAAAAAAAAKc/OKs7oD98iFo/s320/IMG_0680.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202499463234209666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, in the end, our practice went to waste. My romantic night in Vegas remained just an illusion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL_JqI8R8I/AAAAAAAAAK8/yQL9DeC2lHo/s1600-h/IMG_0761.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL_JqI8R8I/AAAAAAAAAK8/yQL9DeC2lHo/s320/IMG_0761.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202501060962043842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-1044949600681382754?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/1044949600681382754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=1044949600681382754' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1044949600681382754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1044949600681382754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/05/vegas.html' title='Vegas'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SDL9jaI8R3I/AAAAAAAAAKU/-2nlvJ1p6nc/s72-c/IMG_0688.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-4396969284078403174</id><published>2008-05-09T15:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:07.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Failure</title><content type='html'>So I didn't know it could be so difficult to give a dose of Methadone, but apparently for someone brilliant like me it can take 3 different doses. As I pulled the Methadone out of the accudose, I thought: I will just squirt this in the cap of the syringe and draw it up rather then going to get a med cup. As I released the med it went into the cap and then immediately to the floor. The nurse across the hall was standing there looking at me like I was an idiot. So I asked her to witness that it was on the floor and I didn't just go into the hallway and inject it into myself. I pull a second dose out and draw it up, from a med cup, into the oral syringe like I had done all night. I had never given methadone IV and most of the other drugs I was giving to this patient were oral. As I showed this same nurse my dose, she asked why I was giving this IV methadone orally? Yah, thats right. I had been giving all the IV methadone orally that night. I guess I do deserve to be called a moron sometimes. To make matters worse, I could no longer use this dose of methadone because now it was unsterile and I would have to go to a different accudose to get a dose, being I just wasted the last one. Now you know why I have been struggling with my mouth lately. It is times like these that I wonder why I am a nurse and want to quit.&lt;br /&gt;So being so on top of my game, I went running with my mom and the dogs. When we got to the bottom of memory grove where the pond was there was a little duckling who had gotten separated from it's mom and was trying to swim against the force of the water to keep from being pushed over through the metal bars and down under the street. As we watched this poor little duck, we knew it's fate if we didn't do something. I decided we would have my dog Lucy go in and chase the duckling to the side. Well Lucy did a great job chasing it. Suddenly this lady comes running up to me yelling NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I tried to calm her down, but she wouldn't listen. As she continued to scream NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled back at her and said, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO we are trying to save the duck!" I think she was surprised by my reaction and then quietly started cheering for the dog. Lucy got the duckling into her mouth and my mom grabbed it from her. Yeah, we saved the duck. Even crazy lady was cheering and yelling "Good dog"! As I made my way over to where my mom and the duck were, my mom looked distressed. The duck that was alive after the rescue, suddenly decided to die. It lay limp in her hand. No bite marks, just probably stunned from the whole situation. I started compressions but I failed. The duckling died and it was my fault. This just added to the failure of a day it had been. I could not bring myself to throw the duckling into the garbage or leave it for a dog to eat, so I took it home and buried it. I don't know, I guess it was just my way of showing respect for life. I hope everybody else's day went better then mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SCTY0_9ZeMI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/hn1KhNf2mKI/s1600-h/IMG_0669.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SCTY0_9ZeMI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/hn1KhNf2mKI/s320/IMG_0669.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198518274926147778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SCTZiv9ZeNI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/CpO2m7UX7Uc/s1600-h/IMG_0674.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SCTZiv9ZeNI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/CpO2m7UX7Uc/s320/IMG_0674.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198519060905162962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-4396969284078403174?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/4396969284078403174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=4396969284078403174' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/4396969284078403174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/4396969284078403174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/05/failure.html' title='Failure'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SCTY0_9ZeMI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/hn1KhNf2mKI/s72-c/IMG_0669.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-5018449989333298975</id><published>2008-05-07T01:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T01:21:48.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-5018449989333298975?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/5018449989333298975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=5018449989333298975' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5018449989333298975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5018449989333298975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-5444397993102320675</id><published>2008-05-03T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:08.754-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Houston You've Got A Problem</title><content type='html'>I would just like to give a shout out to the JAZZ for taking the series last night. I was lucky enough to be present as McGrady watched his team get schooled. Thats what happens when you try to be a one man show. Can't wait for our next one man show, Kobe Bryant! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The Grand Opening&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBzudoKvCLI/AAAAAAAAAJE/YzNyXNXVsCI/s1600-h/IMG_0616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBzudoKvCLI/AAAAAAAAAJE/YzNyXNXVsCI/s320/IMG_0616.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196290262844770482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SB5BBoKvCPI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Ha7RE9muZvg/s1600-h/IMG_0622_new-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SB5BBoKvCPI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Ha7RE9muZvg/s320/IMG_0622_new-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196662516250249458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McWho?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SB5CmoKvCQI/AAAAAAAAAJs/x7hp5UYUM_s/s1600-h/IMG_0632_new.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SB5CmoKvCQI/AAAAAAAAAJs/x7hp5UYUM_s/s320/IMG_0632_new.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196664251417037058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sixth Men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SB44eIKvCNI/AAAAAAAAAJU/otLvbHWK0xc/s1600-h/IMG_0611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SB44eIKvCNI/AAAAAAAAAJU/otLvbHWK0xc/s320/IMG_0611.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196653110271871186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-5444397993102320675?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/5444397993102320675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=5444397993102320675' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5444397993102320675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5444397993102320675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/05/houston-youve-got-problem.html' title='Houston You&apos;ve Got A Problem'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBzudoKvCLI/AAAAAAAAAJE/YzNyXNXVsCI/s72-c/IMG_0616.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-3237085157645586552</id><published>2008-04-30T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:10.094-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Grey's</title><content type='html'>I have decided that Grey's Anatomy is not far from reality. The past month, spending most my time in a hospital, I have felt I am living on screen.&lt;br /&gt;The drama, the romance, or lack thereof... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBi8y4KvCCI/AAAAAAAAAH8/PGeeW84T5H8/s1600-h/101_0193%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBi8y4KvCCI/AAAAAAAAAH8/PGeeW84T5H8/s320/101_0193%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195109752428759074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBi9sYKvCDI/AAAAAAAAAIE/WNcFd2oE2fU/s1600-h/101_0194%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBi9sYKvCDI/AAAAAAAAAIE/WNcFd2oE2fU/s320/101_0194%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195110740271237170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes we have a tech room and yes that's me waiting for Mcsteamy or Mcdreamy&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The anger...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBi-CYKvCEI/AAAAAAAAAIM/GXXVwFsu71s/s1600-h/101_0198%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBi-CYKvCEI/AAAAAAAAAIM/GXXVwFsu71s/s320/101_0198%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195111118228359234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually expressed with any strange object we can find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The accomplishments and the failures, unthinkable sadness and pain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBk3P4KvCJI/AAAAAAAAAI0/oFGopHphM14/s1600-h/DSC01147-1-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBk3P4KvCJI/AAAAAAAAAI0/oFGopHphM14/s320/DSC01147-1-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195244391063554194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Along with the miraculous recoveries and joy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBjGUYKvCHI/AAAAAAAAAIk/yLczLiRywY8/s1600-h/101_0112%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBjGUYKvCHI/AAAAAAAAAIk/yLczLiRywY8/s320/101_0112%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195120223559026802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; As I try to process all these feelings, I am overwhelmed and my state of mind continues to be altered. It's like I am  trying to balance on a surf board. I have had several wipe outs, and a few good rides. Sometimes I feel I live a life that no-one else could ever understand unless they too, lived in the hospital,or maybe watched Grey's regularly. If you ever ask how my day at work was, there are no words to express all the experiences, so "FINE" is the answer you will get. Underneath the "FINE" is an array of emotions. But as Meredith says, "somehow we all make it through"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-3237085157645586552?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/3237085157645586552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=3237085157645586552' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3237085157645586552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3237085157645586552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/04/little-greys.html' title='A Little Grey&apos;s'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBi8y4KvCCI/AAAAAAAAAH8/PGeeW84T5H8/s72-c/101_0193%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-2161381962424192135</id><published>2008-04-24T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:11.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mayan Adventure</title><content type='html'>Saturday night I had the opportunity to go to the Mayan to watch a friend dive. I heard the food wasn't that great, so I wasn't expecting a lot. I thought it would be fun to mostly watch the diving, because how awesome is that? A diving show while you eat dinner? Apparently it's so awesome that we had to wait an hour for our table. But not awesome enough that they fill all the tables in the restaurant. Seriously, when we were shown to our table there were about four other tables in our area without a dinner party. So when our waiter left, we got up and moved to a spot with a better view of the divers.&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to:&lt;br /&gt; a) see the divers dive scroll down&lt;br /&gt; b) talk to the Mayan priestess &lt;a href="http://darrenbalderson.blogspot.com"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; c) eat the fish tacos &lt;a href="http://landoflauralot.blogspot.com"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the diving wasn't what I was expecting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD1SYKvB-I/AAAAAAAAAHc/kE38H1v6RP4/s1600-h/tn-1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD1SYKvB-I/AAAAAAAAAHc/kE38H1v6RP4/s200/tn-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192920066432108514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD1m4KvB_I/AAAAAAAAAHk/ylbcFffbBFY/s1600-h/tn-2.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD1m4KvB_I/AAAAAAAAAHk/ylbcFffbBFY/s200/tn-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192920418619426802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD2UYKvCBI/AAAAAAAAAH0/3fCatnI55Y0/s1600-h/IMG_0533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD2UYKvCBI/AAAAAAAAAH0/3fCatnI55Y0/s200/IMG_0533.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192921200303474706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No but really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBDmnoKvB8I/AAAAAAAAAHM/Ye_ajj2cxRo/s1600-h/IMG_0522.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBDmnoKvB8I/AAAAAAAAAHM/Ye_ajj2cxRo/s200/IMG_0522.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192903938829912002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) meet an honest to goodness diver scroll down&lt;br /&gt;b) meet a stone lion &lt;a href="http://darrenbalderson.blogspot.com"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c) meet a parrot &lt;a href="http://landoflauralot.blogspot.com"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah so I don't want to brag but I do think I could show their divers some moves. I wanted to show off my abilities but I didn't want to embarrass anyone, plus I had a skirt on and I don't think it was as stable as the loin clothes everyone else had on! But here is a picture of me diving in highschool for the Leopards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ce.byu.edu/cw/sportscamps/images/diving_new1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://ce.byu.edu/cw/sportscamps/images/diving_new1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man that Mayan water looked tempting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBDmDIKvB7I/AAAAAAAAAHE/K9GsmlzdvTo/s1600-h/IMG_0513_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBDmDIKvB7I/AAAAAAAAAHE/K9GsmlzdvTo/s200/IMG_0513_1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192903311764686770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decided to pose with one of the true Mayan divers just so I could get some of that skin to skin action- He did have nice muscles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD144KvCAI/AAAAAAAAAHs/mo-Xql-VLd0/s1600-h/tn.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD144KvCAI/AAAAAAAAAHs/mo-Xql-VLd0/s200/tn.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192920727857072130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say it was an adventure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-2161381962424192135?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/2161381962424192135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=2161381962424192135' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/2161381962424192135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/2161381962424192135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/04/mayan-adventure-blog.html' title='A Mayan Adventure'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SBD1SYKvB-I/AAAAAAAAAHc/kE38H1v6RP4/s72-c/tn-1.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-6569623999005979824</id><published>2008-04-22T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T21:21:27.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MTV CRIBS</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hg0w2bJ7YaU&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hg0w2bJ7YaU&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this may not mean anything to anyone else but a NICU nurse, but I found it hilarious! Especially since we have an Aden, Jaden, Braden, and Kayden on our unit. Oh and a Neveah (heaven backwards)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-6569623999005979824?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/6569623999005979824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=6569623999005979824' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/6569623999005979824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/6569623999005979824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-this-may-not-mean-anything-to-anyone.html' title='MTV CRIBS'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-589090418244556840</id><published>2008-04-14T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:12.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Flood Gates Opened!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SAQ6qFZCNiI/AAAAAAAAAGk/sYxCOhB80ow/s1600-h/DSC01147-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SAQ6qFZCNiI/AAAAAAAAAGk/sYxCOhB80ow/s400/DSC01147-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189337165313750562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So over the last few years I have been what I heard a friend once call "emotionally parked". The well has been dry. Not that nothing has happened to upset me, it's just that once you have reached rock bottom, it's hard to reach that point again. My threshold of emotional pain has been set fairly high. It has been at least 6 months since I have cried last, maybe longer. This last weekend I guess I finally reached the threshold. &lt;br /&gt;Although I work in a very emotional place, I have not let it effect me outside of work. I put on my game face for 12 hours and leave it at the door. Not the case this weekend. Without realizing it, the patient I had taken care of Thursday night, and a few times before, kept creeping into my mind. The most adorable 3 month old you can imagine! We will call him Peter: red hair, big blue eyes, super long eye lashes. Everything about him is perfect except for the body he was given. He has a muscular disease that will eventually take his life. His mind is intact but he can't move, maybe just the end of his fingertips. More importantly, he can't breath for himself. Though we have tried many times, he can not live without mechanical ventilation. Well, when you are a family from a small town, taking home a kid on ventilation is near impossible. No company is going to give you a vent because of the risk of being so far away from medical care. There are very few nurses that are available to do home care, which places a huge burden on the family. So what are the choices? He can go live in a facility (like a rest home) or the family can take him off support and let him go. This may seem like an easy choice, but when you have someone who is mentally intact and responds to your presence, it is much harder then you think. As his nurse I felt a huge responsibility to make every moment memorable for him. I got him up into a OT/PT stroller to get him out of bed. I Changed his bedding so he could sit sideways in bed and I even pulled the crib out to the middle of the room so he could look out the window and not have to look at his vent all the time. I played toys with him and lullabies for him. His happiness including the way he was positioned was totally up to me. That is a very humbly experience. Peter got to me. Some how he got in through all the walls I had built up and pulled at my heart strings. As I lay on the couch Friday night with my head on Lucy my dog, unexpected tears came rolling down my cheeks. And then the flood gates opened. I was crying for the first time in a long time. I was crying because it was unfair for him to have such a body. I was crying because of the pain his parents were going through. I was crying because there wasn't anything I could do to change the situation. I kept thinking of his cute little face staring at me. This pain I was feeling was all too familiar. It is that feeling that comes with loss. This situation brought every feeling I have ever had about loss to the surface. Loss to me are those things in your life that have actually taken pieces of your heart that can never be replaced. They are covered up with time, but there is always a hole beneath the cover that remains, and will always remain. As painful as loss is, I find it interesting that I chose a profession that deals with it continually. For some same strange reason I feel strongly that I need and should be there for those who are experiencing loss in their life. The scripture  &lt;br /&gt;"those willing to bear one another' s burdens" goes through my head a lot. So maybe in my own way, crying is how I'm trying to  carry some of Peter's burden. If this is the case, I will cry a lot in the next few weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-589090418244556840?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/589090418244556840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=589090418244556840' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/589090418244556840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/589090418244556840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/04/flood-gates-opened.html' title='The Flood Gates Opened!'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/SAQ6qFZCNiI/AAAAAAAAAGk/sYxCOhB80ow/s72-c/DSC01147-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-8621452722621082754</id><published>2008-04-10T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T03:38:30.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Criminal Behavior</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/40949000/jpg/_40949121_siren_night203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/40949000/jpg/_40949121_siren_night203.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got pulled over the other night for rolling the stop sign at the bottom of East Capitol. I saw the lights flash the minute I turned the corner. Of all the things to get pulled over for. I was trying to spare my breaks, plus how much traffic is there at 10 pm? Um, waste of time on the "taking a hunk out of crime" end. I guess good place to make money on otherwise law abiding citizens. So as the lights twirled around into my back window I noticed a second cop car behind it. Yeah, it pretty much looked like a crime scene. Apparently I am pretty dangerous. So the cop comes up gives me the 20 questions, where you been and where you goin? Is that any of his business? Then as he asks for my license and registration, his little radio that he was so proud of goes off. He steps back and starts talking to some guy about his new place and how he loves it. Then he talks to another guy about how his parent's are renting their basement out. Ok, at this point I'm livid, but I have enough sense to bite my tongue because I knew if I didn't speak, he wouldn't give me the ticket. So he's all nice and kind of flirtatious which was making me sick. He says he's going to go check out my record. I'm sure he really didn't. Probably caught up with another friend. Came back and said, "yeah you have a pretty clean record so I'm just going to give you a warning. WHATEVER! At this point I didn't care, I just wanted to leave. I was so Mad. If you are going to stop me and take my time then give me your time. Do your job and let me go. Pulling someone over is not a good way to pretend like you are actually doing something for the community and it is definitely not a good way to get a girl's number!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-8621452722621082754?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/8621452722621082754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=8621452722621082754' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8621452722621082754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8621452722621082754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/04/smooth-criminal.html' title='Criminal Behavior'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-357285247592292693</id><published>2008-04-08T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:12.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jamba</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_xGr1b-IRI/AAAAAAAAAGc/QicbChe00Mk/s1600-h/101_0115-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_xGr1b-IRI/AAAAAAAAAGc/QicbChe00Mk/s400/101_0115-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187098589716685074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                       &lt;br /&gt; So today was free Jamba Juice day. If you are a friend of mine who's number I could remember, I sent you a text. I have maybe one phone number in my phone of someone I never talk to. Don't Ask! I continually remind myself of my dad who owns a nice cell phone but finds it easier to call me from the ground line at Home Depot. I know, it makes no sense. So anyways, me and some of my BFF's at work decided to make a Jamba run together this morning after working all night. We young fiery nurses have added spice to or unit that consists of nurses who have been there since before I was born. When we work together there is always fun to be had amidst the intensity of the unit. Today we definitely were the entertainment for those who happened to be in the 400S store at around 7:45am. Danette ordered some strawberry PB mix that the store cashier talked her into. As she tasted it, she yells out "Disgusting"! I of course had to try it. As I tasted it, I yelled out "nasty". All 20 juice makers turned red in the face. They were trying to promote their new and improved breakfast smoothies, and we were expressing how gross ours tasted to all who were in the store. I guess we could have been more gracious about it, but we were tired, and all etiquette was gone. I of course was the happiest because I stuck with my usual favorite "pina colada"  so I would not be disappointed. Jen decided to see how many free smoothies she could get by stopping at all the Jamba Juice stores on her way home. I just wanted my bed! I hope those of you who believed my text were able to benefit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-357285247592292693?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/357285247592292693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=357285247592292693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/357285247592292693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/357285247592292693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/04/jamba.html' title='Jamba'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_xGr1b-IRI/AAAAAAAAAGc/QicbChe00Mk/s72-c/101_0115-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-4883742682260509838</id><published>2008-04-03T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:12.444-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pes of Wood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_WsIVb-IQI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Q5g95AT-Y3o/s1600-h/IMG_0495.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_WsIVb-IQI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Q5g95AT-Y3o/s320/IMG_0495.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185239805180387586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I was looking at my unorganized dresser today, I glanced at my shadow box full of memorable items, that sits and collects dust amidst the chaos. One item that always makes me smile when I see is my little  jar labeled: pes of wood. This jar is symbolic of many things. I smile because looking at the spelling on the jar, I was obviously a cute innocent 6 year old. It also makes me smile because of the story behind it.&lt;br /&gt;If anyone knows my dad, they know that he is a by the rule guy. He does not like to push the limits on anything. This comes naturally to him, but his profession has not helped. Maybe thats why he is good at what he does. Spending most his days as a Pediatrician, he has seen the in's and out's of what can go wrong. If there was anything that could possibly cause a serious injury, we could not have it at our house i.e. trampolines, four wheelers, boats, motorcycles, etc. He had seen too many head traumas and broken bones to let us take the risk. Plus how could he not implement what he encouraged parents to do without using it on his own kids. We were the first to have to be in car seats, and the first to have to wear bike helmets. I thought my life was over when I had to have this big ball around my head. Me and my sisters did what we could to sneak around and not obey his rules, but every time  we did one of us got hurt. My dad's advice was always right! So this jar of wood is in remembrance of a time I disobeyed the rules. &lt;br /&gt;I was playing on my ultra cool solid wood playhouse in our back yard one winter afternoon with my friend Lauren. There was about a foot of snow on the floor of the playhouse so you could not see the bottom. For some reason, Lauren dared me to take my shoes off.  I remembered my dad's rule of "no taking your shoes off outside" and knew I should not disobey,  but I rebelled and did anyway. Probably sheer out of defiance plus I was being dared.  As I lowered my foot into the snow I suddenly felt a sharp shooting pain go up my foot. I knew right away I was in trouble. I was probably more afraid that I had disobeyed rule #1051 then about what just went into my foot. As I screamed for help, my mom brought me inside and tried to find what had gone into my foot. Though she searched long and hard she had not luck. After some consultation with my dad from the office, I had to soak my foot in hot water until he got home. This was probably three to four hours. Once he got home he tried to remove the object but could not find anything. Six months later, after my foot was twice it's size due to inflammation, I ended up having  to sit through an exploratory plantar take down by a general surgeon to remove the piece of wood that had shot through my foot, just below the big toe, and floated down to about midpoint. My dad tried to tell me the story of the three little pigs, but  this did not help. It only made me angry that he thought this would calm me down. Where was the anesthesia?  Needless to say, I learned my lesson young about disobedience. And if I forget, I have a reminder that sits on my dresser!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-4883742682260509838?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/4883742682260509838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=4883742682260509838' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/4883742682260509838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/4883742682260509838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/04/pes-of-wood.html' title='A Pes of Wood'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_WsIVb-IQI/AAAAAAAAAGU/Q5g95AT-Y3o/s72-c/IMG_0495.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-4939936591949841885</id><published>2008-03-30T22:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:12.599-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Linus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.comicbookresources.com/news/peanuts_linus_snoopy.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://images.comicbookresources.com/news/peanuts_linus_snoopy.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_B_Wlb-IPI/AAAAAAAAAGM/wkdvWvuStv4/s1600-h/IMG_0468.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_B_Wlb-IPI/AAAAAAAAAGM/wkdvWvuStv4/s400/IMG_0468.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183783197086720242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If ever there was a boy that took after Linus, it's Seth. His blanket and thumb are his best friend. The only difference is that Seth does not have to have a blue blanket. Any blanket that is really soft, will do. When he cries, you give him a soft blanket, he throws his thumb into his mouth, and he is happy. Its a security thing. I love to watch him because I realize that sometimes I would like to lay my head in a blanket and suck my thumb. Like recently after I gave 10X the amount of Narcan to my patient with his mom at the bedside and made him go ballistic. Or the time that  I had to put a urinary catheter into a good looking male my age who just sat and watched. And especially during the awkward moments I've had out in the dating field . Where is the thumb! I find I do different things in public when I'm stressed, like pull at my nose or rub my eyes. It's all the same thing though. I just got too cool to suck my thumb  and cuddle with my blanket in the presence of people. That doesn't mean I don't do it when I'm alone! I really do relate to Linus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-4939936591949841885?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/4939936591949841885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=4939936591949841885' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/4939936591949841885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/4939936591949841885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-little-linus.html' title='My Little Linus'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R_B_Wlb-IPI/AAAAAAAAAGM/wkdvWvuStv4/s72-c/IMG_0468.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-8075880815888362705</id><published>2008-03-24T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:12.777-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Got the Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-iAMlb-IMI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kpKDWuOp3yQ/s1600-h/IMG_0432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-iAMlb-IMI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kpKDWuOp3yQ/s400/IMG_0432.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181532324985970882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went today and got the Victoria Secret Sexy haircut which my stylist calls... (something not repeatable)! I love my hair dresser. I wish I could have him massage my head, and blow dry my hair everyday. Seth, how much would you charge to be my personal stylist? I'd let you dress me head to toe. Too bad you only do a men's line. I have to say that I have fired many stylists  for repeated bad haircuts. I am known to pay large amounts for a color and cut and then go redo my color with store product because I think I could do a better job. Called me obsessed, I agree!  I have never been disappointed with Seth. I recommend him to all! But not if you are  not willing to pay the money. Thats probably why I only cut my hair every 4-6 months. I've decided that getting my hair done, like most girls, is one of my favorite things to do. It adds some refreshment to your life, and change. I think thats why all girls cut their hair after they get married. As if marriage isn't refreshment and change enough. Maybe it's more that we don't have to impress the guys anymore and we can do whatever we want. Of course I've always done whatever I want, so maybe that's why I'm not married. As Seth was giving this sexy haircut, I told him I could use all the help I can get in that area! So do I have the look?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-8075880815888362705?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/8075880815888362705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=8075880815888362705' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8075880815888362705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/8075880815888362705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/shes-got-look.html' title='She&apos;s Got the Look'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-iAMlb-IMI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kpKDWuOp3yQ/s72-c/IMG_0432.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-121362238477123668</id><published>2008-03-23T21:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:13.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY EASTER</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-cssFb-ILI/AAAAAAAAAFs/I7C-G7zOOVA/s1600-h/IMG_0414.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-cssFb-ILI/AAAAAAAAAFs/I7C-G7zOOVA/s400/IMG_0414.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181159032198406322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE! These are what I like to call  "NESTS"- You choose the bird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-121362238477123668?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/121362238477123668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=121362238477123668' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/121362238477123668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/121362238477123668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-easter.html' title='HAPPY EASTER'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-cssFb-ILI/AAAAAAAAAFs/I7C-G7zOOVA/s72-c/IMG_0414.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-4454232707501654609</id><published>2008-03-21T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T22:39:30.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kobe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.point-spreads.com/images/stories/kobe-bryant-slam-dunk-laker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.point-spreads.com/images/stories/kobe-bryant-slam-dunk-laker.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kobe Bryant is sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo full of himself! He should have gone to jail-THE END&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-4454232707501654609?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/4454232707501654609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=4454232707501654609' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/4454232707501654609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/4454232707501654609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/kolbe.html' title='Kobe'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-2401544279342328806</id><published>2008-03-19T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:13.204-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Headache</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-IBSFb-III/AAAAAAAAAFQ/WzTHJY0H6a8/s1600-h/IMG_0356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-IBSFb-III/AAAAAAAAAFQ/WzTHJY0H6a8/s400/IMG_0356.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179703931638259842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Shara! I roped her into some crazy game that my older sister made up, red flag #1. We use to play it in our kitchen and laugh histerically. Apparently we had longer dish cloths because we had no problem swinging around trying to get the cloth out of each others mouths. I dragged shara out into the battle field and swung my head at her to dislodge the towel. As our heads swung back and forth, we got closer and closer. Then the big hit! No I did not get the towel out of her mouth, I wacked into her head. It was like two forces coming together at lightening speed. As shara fell to the ground, I ran out of the room. All you could hear was moaning for the next hour with tears in our eyes. I have never hit my head so hard. It was right over my eye, and  I could feel the swelling going on. Share grabbed us some frozen vegetables to relieve that pain. Ben and Kimber just sat  and laughed. Kimber laughed so hard she threw her head back and hit it on the ledge above the couch. By the end of the night we all needed frozen vegetables. The next day I called Shara to find out how her head was, because I had been suffering from a dull headache all night. Come to find out, it wasn't Shara that needed my sympathy. Poor Kimber had been throwing up all night. Minor Cuncushion? Sorry Kimber, for making you laugh so hard. When I am around, it is not hard lose control. I sort of am a geeky nerd trying to do hip hop with biker glasses on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-2401544279342328806?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/2401544279342328806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=2401544279342328806' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/2401544279342328806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/2401544279342328806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/headache.html' title='Headache'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R-IBSFb-III/AAAAAAAAAFQ/WzTHJY0H6a8/s72-c/IMG_0356.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-3001538700085049688</id><published>2008-03-18T01:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:13.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Code Blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9_LiRwVBhI/AAAAAAAAAFI/PDaTDDD2tk0/s1600-h/Codeblue1-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9_LiRwVBhI/AAAAAAAAAFI/PDaTDDD2tk0/s400/Codeblue1-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179081886241457682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am trying to sit and write a dumb blog here at work, and every-time I sit down an alarm goes off. This could take a while. (suction) I'm back... so the other night I had my first code blue experience. I mean I experience them all the time, they just haven't been my patient. (turn up Fi02) back (turn down fio2) back.... Though I had to bag my patient several times before, I have always been able to get them to recover in a decent amount of time. (change a feeding) back... so this time, bagging, number four for the night by the way, I could not get the patient to recover. Heart rate was in the 40's, (should be about 140) and decreasing, sats were in the teens, (should be above 85%) and color was dusky gray. Hmmm... I thought. Maybe I should get a respiratory therapist. Rt comes to bedside and is having trouble bagging the patient as well. Hmmm... I wonder if we should hit that magic button that will get the whole hospital staff at the bedside in seconds. As I questioned the RT if we should call a code, she didn't respond. I looked up at the monitor and decided if the patient didn't start going in the right direction in the next secs I would hit that button. The patients numbers continued to plumet. (start another feeding, suction, increase fio2). back... Once that button was hit signals flew and intercom comes on, code blue, code blue, code blue. People run to the bedside out of breath. Of course by the time they get there, patient is finally recovering. You got to love the remarks like, this is our code blue? It's like they are all excited to cardiovert a baby, shove some epi in them, and I don't know, why not put them on echmo. Sorry I could not provide the excitement you were looking for. Needless to say, I don't regret pushing the button. I'm not going to be sued for a preventable death. (fio2 down) back... Wow no wonder my agitation thresh hold has been getting lower and lower. (meds given) I feel bad for those around me because I snap pretty easily. Watch out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-3001538700085049688?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/3001538700085049688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=3001538700085049688' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3001538700085049688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3001538700085049688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/code-blue.html' title='Code Blue'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9_LiRwVBhI/AAAAAAAAAFI/PDaTDDD2tk0/s72-c/Codeblue1-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-2705203822860601413</id><published>2008-03-13T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T01:43:56.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to De-thaw Plastic</title><content type='html'>So the other night at work, I was de-thawing breast milk, one of my regular jobs, and for some reason couldn't quite get the last of the dumb milk to de-thaw. Frozen breast milk is not pretty to look at because it kind of seperates out into different elements, thus I did not look into the container at the block of breats milk. Oh I mean human milk. I can't call it breast milk anymore, it is not politically correct. Anyways.. I continue to soak this container in hot water so that I could baby bar tend and mix the milk. As I kept coming back to it, it was still a frozen block. With a million other things going on, I didn't think about the time that this block of milk was taking to de-thaw. After a good couple of hours, I finally opened the stupid container. Oh whoops. It was a plastic lid sitting in there that I probably threw off the bigger container I was going to mix the stuff in. Apparently I got all the milk out I was going to get! As usual I burst out into laughter at myself, the other people in the room looked at me like I was crazy. I just went happily on my merry way, to take care of my starving baby. As I thought about it, I realized that trying to de-thaw a plastic lid was actually a good parallel to life. It's like beating a dead horse. You do the same thing over and over and over again, but the outcome never changes. You still have a stupid solid plastic lid. Does anyone relate?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-2705203822860601413?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/2705203822860601413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=2705203822860601413' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/2705203822860601413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/2705203822860601413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/trying-to-de-thaw-plastic.html' title='Trying to De-thaw Plastic'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-7276575526061014868</id><published>2008-03-11T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:14.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moab Half</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bvLRwVBfI/AAAAAAAAAEU/QAfNXvxW5sw/s1600-h/IMG_0337.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bvLRwVBfI/AAAAAAAAAEU/QAfNXvxW5sw/s400/IMG_0337.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176587798732670450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bu1RwVBeI/AAAAAAAAAEM/M6goybuVDWY/s1600-h/IMG_0327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bu1RwVBeI/AAAAAAAAAEM/M6goybuVDWY/s200/IMG_0327.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176587420775548386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bucxwVBdI/AAAAAAAAAEE/H2-Yl4y0YFg/s1600-h/IMG_0342.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bucxwVBdI/AAAAAAAAAEE/H2-Yl4y0YFg/s200/IMG_0342.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176586999868753362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bs4BwVBcI/AAAAAAAAAD8/9-1LeVqYpd0/s1600-h/IMG_0280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bs4BwVBcI/AAAAAAAAAD8/9-1LeVqYpd0/s200/IMG_0280.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176585268996933058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bskhwVBbI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Gd1lQ5wEUog/s1600-h/IMG_0285.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bskhwVBbI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Gd1lQ5wEUog/s320/IMG_0285.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176584933989483954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bryxwVBaI/AAAAAAAAADs/OmKHzZ3MsWM/s1600-h/IMG_0272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bryxwVBaI/AAAAAAAAADs/OmKHzZ3MsWM/s200/IMG_0272.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176584079290992034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this past weekend I went with my family down to moab to run the half. It's always an adventure when you get with the whole fam. Our differences become more pronounced when were all staying in tight quarters. None the less, we had fun. This was my third half marathon, and I can't say I prepared all too well. The most I ran was about six miles, basically due to pure laziness. I figured my adrenaline would pick up and carry me to the end. Saturday morning we got bused up 12 miles up the canyon. The scenery was great, but the river look more blah then it did in the picture. They added some amazing blue and green to the water that of course enticed us. The run was basically even kill, meaning it was pretty much flat with some grades of slight down hill or slight uphill. Actually kind of boring. By mile 8, I felt great. I thought, this is going to be the fastest half I have ever done. My idea was to keep my pace controlled and even and not to push until mile 6-8. Well I can't say that I ever pushed, just kept going. by the time we made it out of the canyon there was 2.2 miles left on the highway to make it back into town. Well that 2.2 miles was hell. You would think that the people on the sides of the road cheering would energize you, but I wanted to punch them. I had "hit the wall." Brilliant me thought, if I stop and let myself catch my breath and get blood flow to my feet I can finish strong. Bad choice. Once I stopped, my body did not want to go again. It was the first time in my life that I didn't want to finish the race. I actually thought about just wandering off into someone's back yard and hiding in a corner. Somehow I kept going, probably about a walking pace. Once I could see the finish line my spirits lifted and I charged to the end. I didn't even want to talk to anyone at the end of the race because I was so emotionally drained. I was also bugged by my patheticness in the end. Now that the race is over, I am seriously thinking I will now run the Salt Lake Half. Probably because I want to prove to myself that I can finish stronger and also because you forget quickly how challenging these races really are!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-7276575526061014868?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/7276575526061014868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=7276575526061014868' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/7276575526061014868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/7276575526061014868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/moab-half.html' title='Moab Half'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9bvLRwVBfI/AAAAAAAAAEU/QAfNXvxW5sw/s72-c/IMG_0337.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-2440236650582167744</id><published>2008-03-09T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:14.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Over Kill</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9SGqxwVBZI/AAAAAAAAADk/EWGrCbcKicE/s1600-h/IMG_0348.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9SGqxwVBZI/AAAAAAAAADk/EWGrCbcKicE/s320/IMG_0348.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175909941224211858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9SGPhwVBYI/AAAAAAAAADc/DjQUvxJhx8c/s1600-h/IMG_0347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9SGPhwVBYI/AAAAAAAAADc/DjQUvxJhx8c/s320/IMG_0347.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175909473072776578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I spent in Moab, enjoying the scenery, but mainly to run in half marathon. Talk about over kill on your body. Although my muscles did start to spasm some, the most painful injury I received was on my lower back from the tag in my shorts. I can safely say that I am not running a full marathon anytime soon! When we got to the expo to pick up our t-shirts and bibs, they had all sorts of energy bars and Gu for us to sample. Then in our bags, they sent us home with an array of energy bars. Not to mention I had brought some from home, and grabbed some cookie dough energy thing at one of the gas stations on the way. Needless to say, I do not want to see another energy bar for a long time. I also am not anxious to be in the car with my sister and bro-inlaw for a while. Their selection of music about did me in. It was a torturous ride there. At least on the ride home they were limited to sunday music, and yes that selection was better if you can imagine.  Also on our car ride there,  I have never had to stop so many times to use the bathroom at rest stops. Apparently too much gatorade can do that to you. I probably wasn't really hydrating myself after all! After the race, they gave us this lotion in our bags that was like Icy Hot for muscle aches. I coated myself in this. The smell just permeated the hotel room and my clothes still wreak of it. It feels awesome though. So I finally made it home and felt that I deserved a nice hot bath to relax my muscles. Apparently I put to much bath and body works body gel in the water. What can I say but an overkill weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-2440236650582167744?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/2440236650582167744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=2440236650582167744' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/2440236650582167744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/2440236650582167744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/over-kill.html' title='Over Kill'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9SGqxwVBZI/AAAAAAAAADk/EWGrCbcKicE/s72-c/IMG_0348.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-7903590704928855709</id><published>2008-03-06T14:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:15.045-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9Bz1rPsHcI/AAAAAAAAADU/fgDVoyEm26Q/s1600-h/IMG_0245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9Bz1rPsHcI/AAAAAAAAADU/fgDVoyEm26Q/s320/IMG_0245.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174763337827491266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Family,&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry to say that I think I am at the top of dad's list! My regrets Betsy and Libbie, but I am the favorite daughter. You both have lost points in his book. Bets I think he hasn't forgiven you for crashing his brown Saab back in high-school, oh and his gray Saab a week later. Not to mention the fact that you got caught throwing spaghetti off the overpass at cars. Lib you know you lost points when you didn't show up to the family party over christmas. Plus you always tried to get out of picking up smashed apricots off the Yale lawn, and then happily left me to mow it too. I think he liked my mowing better anyway because my lines were straighter. I have pretty much been a perfect child! Just think about it, both of you had curfews and I could come in whenever I wanted. Well now the fact that I have a perfect score, I get an automatic ticket to every one of his Jazz Games,  a valentine on my doorstep this year, and he even said he'd be my business partner if I needed one. You both know that those are huge! And I can say whatever I want about you, because I know you won't read this! Love-Jane&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-7903590704928855709?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/7903590704928855709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=7903590704928855709' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/7903590704928855709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/7903590704928855709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/daddys-girl.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Girl'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R9Bz1rPsHcI/AAAAAAAAADU/fgDVoyEm26Q/s72-c/IMG_0245.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-6959493862515235215</id><published>2008-03-05T20:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T20:37:59.977-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHATEVER!</title><content type='html'>WHATEVER is all I have to say. I have had a lot of WHATEVER moments in my life. So you are probably wondering what WHATEVER moments are? Well it is when someone says something so irrational to you, that the only thing you can do is throw your arms in the are and try not to swear at them while you walk away. It is that frustrating moment when you know whatever you say will not even enter the other persons mind. They won't even give it a minute of thought. They are continually ready to spout out why you're wrong, and they are right. They are impossible. I have learned over the years not to argue with these people. It's best just to let them jabber their crap and then walk away. I find life actually goes a lot easier that way. Even though it is good to stand up for yourself, why waste your time when you know you are not going to make a dent in helping them see things in a different light. Every once in a while I do mess up and try to show them another perspective, but I am continually reminded of what a mistake that is. It is going to take a life changing experience for them to understand what you are saying. WHATEVER!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-6959493862515235215?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/6959493862515235215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=6959493862515235215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/6959493862515235215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/6959493862515235215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/whatever.html' title='WHATEVER!'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-459495050811764105</id><published>2008-03-03T09:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:15.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pixie Stixs Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R8w_XhvTcKI/AAAAAAAAADM/dMJcCEInyFs/s1600-h/IMG_0268.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R8w_XhvTcKI/AAAAAAAAADM/dMJcCEInyFs/s320/IMG_0268.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173579745368174754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pixie Stixs are back once again, minus a few. I'm sure the crowd full of old East High Alumns wondered if we ever stop singing and creating our own lyrics! We use to sing everywhere: weddings, rest homes, church meetings, etc. Rest homes were the funniest because I could never keep from laughing in the middle of our performance due to the comments from the delirious elderly. Once I started, everyone else was gone. There was one time we were all laughing so hard, several of us peed our pants. We were notorious for singing in the lines at grocery stores while we waited our turn, amusement parks, and the streets of Vegas. You name it, and we were singing. There was one point on our Senior A'cappella tour to California that our conductor had to tell us to shut up because we had been singing for 6 hours straight. I think back and I am sure we were so annoying. We did have fun though and still do!  When we get together even today, we sing. Back in the day I named our group the Pixie stixs as a joke, but it stuck. As annoying as we may be, music is our passion, and we love being together. We were talking the other day and figured out we all loved the movie "Music and Lyrics" which according to popularity was a disaster for Hollywood. I guess we are all crazy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-459495050811764105?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/459495050811764105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=459495050811764105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/459495050811764105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/459495050811764105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/03/pixie-stixs-forever.html' title='Pixie Stixs Forever'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R8w_XhvTcKI/AAAAAAAAADM/dMJcCEInyFs/s72-c/IMG_0268.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-362708348668225930</id><published>2008-02-27T20:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T21:43:37.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Guy in Town</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i.a.cnn.net/si/2006/writers/andy_gray/12/19/newlook.sixers/p1_korver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i.a.cnn.net/si/2006/writers/andy_gray/12/19/newlook.sixers/p1_korver.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since  I have been a Jazz fan for most of my life, I, being a girl, have constantly analyzed the team and decided which players were husband material. I mean who wouldn't want what seems to be a "good guy" NBA Basketball player for themselves. It started off with John Stockton of course, but my image of him was shattered when I heard he was rude to his neighbors on Walker Lane. Jeff Hornacek was always in the background because he was so charitable and seemingly good with his little kid fans. Oh yeah, you can't forget Tom Chambers way back in the day. He must have been a good guy, he went to BYU. Oh and I admired Blue Edwards because his wife had twins and I knew the nurse who delivered them so we were tight. I just knew he was the best father! I had visions of me in a wedding dress with Bryon Russell. Man he was hot!!! Then of course Matt Harpring. I was just sure he was a returned missionary and we were meant to be. More recently Chris Humphreys who had such a baby face I would melt when I saw him. I was mad when we traded him. Now today, the winner would be.... Kyle Korver. Can you say Ashton Kutcher but hotter. Yummy! So as I have gone through all these relationships alone, I have come to realize I will most likely not marry a Jazz Player, but I can still dream. Though it has been hard to grasp this reality, I realize I can still look from the sidelines. I mean, who doesn't like to think about someone with a little sex-appeal!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-362708348668225930?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/362708348668225930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=362708348668225930' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/362708348668225930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/362708348668225930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/new-guy-in-town.html' title='The New Guy in Town'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-3117590450098828768</id><published>2008-02-23T21:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:15.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dilemma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R8EQeShz-WI/AAAAAAAAAC8/uxcRdoLvQYI/s1600-h/IMG_0219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R8EQeShz-WI/AAAAAAAAAC8/uxcRdoLvQYI/s320/IMG_0219.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170431959753816418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R8EQfChz-XI/AAAAAAAAADE/4bmbzx-cYBU/s1600-h/IMG_0186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R8EQfChz-XI/AAAAAAAAADE/4bmbzx-cYBU/s320/IMG_0186.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170431972638718322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to realize that medical advancements are not always a blessing. I work in area that fights death everyday. Yes its great that we save many infants, but would death in some situations have been a better choice. The choice of whether to take great lengths and save a child, or let them go as nature would have it, is not always clear. We have the ability to save most anything, but are we preventing them from taking the course they should have taken. I often think of what I would do if I was the mother of a child that had serious physical anomalies, and had to decide whether to take drastic measure to save their lives, knowing it would not cure them of their physical disability but it would keep them alive. I have been in many situations where the infant is alive and responsive on a ventilator, but beyond that, they have nothing else functioning. How would it be to look into your child's eyes and know you had to make the decision of whether to keep them on the ventilator or whether you are going to pull the plug. From the words of a mother that we posed this question to, she responded, "I will live with this decision for the rest of my life." The silence in the room was awful. From the nurses standpoint, it is easy to say, why would you save this child. It will never walk, talk, eat, hear, see, breath on it's own, etc. We also spend day in and day out with these infant managing their care and know how much work it is. We see all the needles, tubes, sutures, that go into them. We work with them  through their anguish to survive. We come to realize that there are things worse then death. On the other hand, we are not the parent. We don't have to live that horrible decision of life or death. We don't have to think about the infant everyday and remember their sweet eyes starring at you. For us it's just a job, and we can go on living outside this sphere once we leave the hospital. So during those times that I am struggling to understand why parents can't just let their child go, in the back of my mind I know as the mother I would have a hard time letting go too. This is a dilemma that tears at me daily, and is one of the most stressful parts of my job. It is my goal to be remembered by the family as someone who is supportive and understanding with the decisions they make at this time, even if I don't agree. I can't blame them for being protectors. That's what parents are suppose to be. On a lighter note, I do have fun at work despite some of the heaviness. Yes we have named Dr. Mcsteamy and Mcdreamy in our unit. Yes we do mess around on our voceras and laugh at each others crazy lives. Most of all, we do love these babies and enjoy snuggling with them and rocking them or just holding their hands. As cheesy as it sounds, it is true!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-3117590450098828768?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/3117590450098828768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=3117590450098828768' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3117590450098828768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3117590450098828768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/dilemma.html' title='Dilemma'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R8EQeShz-WI/AAAAAAAAAC8/uxcRdoLvQYI/s72-c/IMG_0219.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-1519404405283077622</id><published>2008-02-18T15:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T15:15:22.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best In Show</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.orlandosentinel.com/media/photo/2008-02/35583046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.orlandosentinel.com/media/photo/2008-02/35583046.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to give a shout out to all beagles! It is about time they were recognized for their excellence. My Sadie looks a lot like Uno, the winner of the Westminster Dog Show, but she may have a little more fat on her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-1519404405283077622?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/1519404405283077622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=1519404405283077622' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1519404405283077622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1519404405283077622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/id-like-to-give-shout-out-to-all.html' title='Best In Show'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-3958377033655574522</id><published>2008-02-17T06:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:15.865-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Enemy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7j5hfeLR9I/AAAAAAAAACc/5i8U0o6g2y0/s1600-h/IMG_0151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7j5hfeLR9I/AAAAAAAAACc/5i8U0o6g2y0/s320/IMG_0151.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168154926186710994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Hate this stuff! It is suppose to be my friend and kill all the squirmy germs on my hands but it does more then that. It eats away at my skin and leaves it in despair. It feels like alcohol would on an open wound or burn. I have no choice but to use it because I can't always make it to the sink to wash my hands between patients, but I do what I can to avoid using it. I thought I might have to change professions until I found a wonder creme. It is usually used for diaper rashes, but it works like a charm saving my hands from the grips of AVAGARD!!! It is like covering your hand with crisco. I leave grease marks everywhere I go. Thank goodness for my Aloe Vesta! I suppose I will have to live with this enemy for the rest of my career unless somebody thinks of something for sensitive skin. Although if the stuff wasn't harsh, it probably wouldn't' be doing it's job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-3958377033655574522?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/3958377033655574522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=3958377033655574522' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3958377033655574522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/3958377033655574522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-enemy.html' title='My Enemy'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7j5hfeLR9I/AAAAAAAAACc/5i8U0o6g2y0/s72-c/IMG_0151.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-1685868111768943474</id><published>2008-02-15T19:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:16.008-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY VALENTINES DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7Zb5feLR6I/AAAAAAAAACE/a8XsSFr8Wxk/s1600-h/IMG_0133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7Zb5feLR6I/AAAAAAAAACE/a8XsSFr8Wxk/s320/IMG_0133.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167418665712961442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you didn't get one of my amazing cookies for Valentine's, you really missed out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-1685868111768943474?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/1685868111768943474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=1685868111768943474' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1685868111768943474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1685868111768943474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='HAPPY VALENTINES DAY'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7Zb5feLR6I/AAAAAAAAACE/a8XsSFr8Wxk/s72-c/IMG_0133.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-7791752346611201863</id><published>2008-02-12T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:16.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do We Look Alike?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7Io4veLR4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/u8Kihj3BsjI/s1600-h/IMG_0088_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7Io4veLR4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/u8Kihj3BsjI/s320/IMG_0088_1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166236677828200322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7Io5feLR5I/AAAAAAAAAB8/byyjgB5UKgU/s1600-h/IMG_0089_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7Io5feLR5I/AAAAAAAAAB8/byyjgB5UKgU/s320/IMG_0089_1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166236690713102226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Genes are stronger then you want to believe. Although I have never thought that me and my niece Rosie looked alike, we seem to make the same facial expressions. Have you ever caught yourself making a gesture that you've seen your parents make over and over again. Lately it has been happening to me; especially when I am sitting in church. I will bring my hand up to my face and rest it on my chin and then realize this is what my dad looks like when I look over at him in church. The worst thing is, you use to laugh at your parents for being so weird, and then you realize you're weird too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-7791752346611201863?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/7791752346611201863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=7791752346611201863' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/7791752346611201863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/7791752346611201863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/do-we-look-alike.html' title='Do We Look Alike?'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R7Io4veLR4I/AAAAAAAAAB0/u8Kihj3BsjI/s72-c/IMG_0088_1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-1715977420580789786</id><published>2008-02-11T20:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T20:35:53.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hip Hop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://dancealberta.com/images/profile_Luke.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://dancealberta.com/images/profile_Luke.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So me and my friend Jodi have decided to take a Hip Hop class together. It is great because, though we use to be basically one person, I don't see her much anymore because she's married and has two kids, which is of course what I would want for her. The point is that we use to go dancing all the time. We were regulars at the Sigma Chi house. They knew that when Jane and Jodi enter the house we were headed straight to the black and white checkered floor down stairs. We spent many nights at the Bay, Club DV8, Liquid Joes, and any other concert or party we knew about. Someone once told us they would hate to see us drunk if this is what we were like sober. We were not afraid of making fools of ourselves. I can't say I was always the life of the party, but my friends definitely were and I tagged along. Sometimes I miss those days of being crazy and letting loose. So taking this Hip Hop class is a great way to keep the energy alive in my life. It is not fun and games though. It is tough stuff. Even though I may exercise regularly, hip hop kicks your butt! I have never felt so out of shape in my life. You move your body in positions I don't think it's ever been before. I tweaked my back this week. It's dangerous stuff. I look like an idiot learning it, but once you get it down, you don't want to stop. I have to admit, if you come by my house, you may see me in the kitchen practicing my moves. Lets just say I can't wait to go dancing again. Me and Jodi are going to bring the house down!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-1715977420580789786?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/1715977420580789786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=1715977420580789786' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1715977420580789786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1715977420580789786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/hip-hop.html' title='Hip Hop'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-5595006591362109274</id><published>2008-02-10T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T08:31:26.005-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mean People Suck!</title><content type='html'>I don't know how many times I have seen this phrase on the bumper in front of me, but after last night at work, I am a believer! I worked with the angriest person  who just sat and yelled at me for not having everything at his fingertips the second he asked for it. It was like I was suppose to read his mind, which as nurses we have to learn to do to survive. After he royally chewed me up and spit me out, I did not say a word. I knew that anything I said wouldn't matter. I WAS WRONG PERIOD! Whatever. I just hope that one day all mean people will have to relive all of the times they were beastly, and see it through the other person's eyes. It would be a humbling experience for them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-5595006591362109274?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/5595006591362109274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=5595006591362109274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5595006591362109274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5595006591362109274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/mean-people-suck.html' title='Mean People Suck!'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-1166304769079490695</id><published>2008-02-05T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T04:12:16.555-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY BLOG?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R61ChveLR3I/AAAAAAAAABc/ZbAUTeiKNBA/s1600-h/jane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R61ChveLR3I/AAAAAAAAABc/ZbAUTeiKNBA/s320/jane.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164857495109977970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I never intended to start a blog. Mainly because I don't think my life is interesting enough to write about or read about, hence Plain Jane. Plus I have been told that I'm not that good at telling stories by several people, so maybe I am a little self-conscious about writing. Perhaps if I blog I will get better at it? Plus this blog could be entertainment when I am 90 years old and can't do anything else but read. I will need something more then just my US Weeklys. It has taken me a few days to get this up and going, but I think I am almost ready to be blog stalked! I just need to add a hot picture-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-1166304769079490695?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/1166304769079490695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=1166304769079490695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1166304769079490695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1166304769079490695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-blog.html' title='WHY BLOG?'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1cS3GrYMxi8/R61ChveLR3I/AAAAAAAAABc/ZbAUTeiKNBA/s72-c/jane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-1671712781835066271</id><published>2008-02-04T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T22:06:58.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nurse Jane</title><content type='html'>So I decided to clarify what I do, because I don't think even my family understands. This realization came to me when I was asked by a friend if all I do is take care of mentally challenged children. Though there would be nothing wrong with this, it is not what I do. I work in the Newborn-ICU, (Intensive Care Unit) therefore my patients are newborns who are intensely ill. I work at Primary Children's Medical Center which is the referring hospital for any infant needing genetic testing, surgical intervention, or have complex issues. Other Newborn-ICUs in the valley are known for having a feeder-grower population (pre-mature (tiny), just need to feed and grow) or other issues managed through drug therapy or basic ventilation. I deal with all the fun stuff like Necrotizing Enterocolitis, Gastroschesis, Hydorcephalus, Congenital Heart Disease, or Multiple Congenital Anomalies. Usually naturally along with these issues comes Respiratory Distress Syndrome and Feeding Intolerance. Though it may seem like all I get to do is cuddle with babies, this is usually not the case. There is always a barrier, whether it is multiple peripheral lines, ostomy bags, gastric suction, or an endotracheal tube. This job might add a flash of excitement to plain Jane's life. Just the other day I got my first experience of having my patient pull out their ETT (breathing tube) and turn a lovely shade of black that I don't care to see again. At the end of the day I have to say that I love my job! There is nothing that compares to the adrenaline rush of thinking quick and acting fast. Though it is stressful at the time and you are cursing life, when it's all over, you feel like you actually accomplished something. Nursing is a challenge to me but I like challenges. I have noticed amazing strength given to me at work by a higher power during critical times. My testimony of God grows stronger each day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-1671712781835066271?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/1671712781835066271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=1671712781835066271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1671712781835066271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/1671712781835066271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/nurse-jane.html' title='Nurse Jane'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7904430382163651427.post-5506623459915255179</id><published>2008-02-03T15:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T21:24:44.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dogs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/photos/photo.asp?PhotoID=152439"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/photos/photo.asp?PhotoID=152439" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogs say it all! You just look into their little faces and you can see the expressions that you know you make yourself and therefore have such a connection with them. I have two dogs, Sadie and Lucy, 5o lb beagles. I know this may sound over-weight but trust me weve kept them down to a minimum that I feel proud of. They love food, but so do I so how can I blaim them. They have been my pride and joy for the last 4 years. They are my running partners, chocolate eating partners, and best of all nap partners. In bed they become like two bookends, squeezing you like a lemon, and when you wake up you wonder how your body was able to contort to such positions. I don't know what is endearing about this, but it has become one of the many blessings in my life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7904430382163651427-5506623459915255179?l=janeggardiner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/feeds/5506623459915255179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7904430382163651427&amp;postID=5506623459915255179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5506623459915255179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7904430382163651427/posts/default/5506623459915255179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janeggardiner.blogspot.com/2008/02/dog-collumn.html' title='The Dogs'/><author><name>Janey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10640601776361682951</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
