<?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-7462939490821445658</id><updated>2012-02-17T02:32:27.922+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pennies Saved</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm not interested in starting another blog, but I've gotten to where I rarely use this one.  So I'm going to still record dreams here, but also use it as a place to document my new found frugality!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7462939490821445658.post-2498050096018872036</id><published>2009-09-12T16:15:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T16:15:42.885+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Lookout!</title><content type='html'>I'm about to revamp this blog! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2498050096018872036?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2498050096018872036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2498050096018872036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2498050096018872036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2498050096018872036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/09/lookout.html' title='Lookout!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-4419449426089274791</id><published>2009-02-20T18:48:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T18:48:55.620+01:00</updated><title type='text'>An Oldy but Goody!</title><content type='html'>CARPOOL!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all I got today...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-4419449426089274791?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4419449426089274791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=4419449426089274791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4419449426089274791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4419449426089274791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/oldy-but-goody.html' title='An Oldy but Goody!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6449313382679154318</id><published>2009-02-18T10:37:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T10:56:48.858+01:00</updated><title type='text'>MPS</title><content type='html'>its free! &lt;br /&gt;Sorry I missed a couple days on the posting...I was busy building snowmen and laying low celebrating President's Day in style (w/ hot chocolate and snuggly socks!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now...the Military Postal Service.  We can send packages from our post to any other in Europe (I think) or downrange (to deployed Soldiers) FREE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now THAT'S a deal! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to send 4 boxes to some deployed Soldiers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6449313382679154318?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6449313382679154318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6449313382679154318' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6449313382679154318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6449313382679154318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/mps.html' title='MPS'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-931619428548981901</id><published>2009-02-15T11:28:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T11:54:28.196+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Nugget from the Suze Show-Stick together!</title><content type='html'>We enjoy watching the Suze Orman Show.  One thing she said today really rang true for me.  She was talking to this poor girl, almost 21 yrs old, who got a credit card at 18 with a limit of $400.  She "spent it" right away and continued to do so with subsequent cards.  She...not lying...did not know she had to pay that money back.  Seriously???  Parents are responsible for teaching their children financial responsibility.  But that's not what I'm here to talk about.  I don't even have kids.  What I'm here to pass along from her show today was what she said next. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People in your life inflence your financial decisions (or something like that).  She was talking about how growing up, apparently this girl has been handed everything.  But here is what I took from that statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People join support groups all the time.  They hang out with like minded people to get through challenges and struggles in their lives.  They go out with people who eat healthily when they are trying to lose weight, lower their cholesterol or just be healthier.  They exercise and train with people who have the same fitness goals.  Why should financial health be any different? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Share your goals with your friends and family so that they can be supportive and you can support them.  If you have a neighbor who has similar goals and circumstances, you can really benefit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At home:  Couples or singles living in adjacent apartment?  Cook and share meals, split family sized portions that are often less expensive than single servings.  Share herbs and spices that a small household might not ever use all of can be divided instead of wasted.&lt;br /&gt;Share coupons with one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going out: Split large entrees with a friend, encourage one another to make smart restaurant choices, and snack at home before going out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Team up with people who can help you achieve your goals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-931619428548981901?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/931619428548981901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=931619428548981901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/931619428548981901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/931619428548981901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/nugget-from-suze-show-stick-together.html' title='A Nugget from the Suze Show-Stick together!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8567555543259657099</id><published>2009-02-14T10:55:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T11:01:44.264+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is all you need.</title><content type='html'>Happy Valentines Day! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me a scrooge, but that's all you get.  I made a card (two actually) for my sweet husband.  We agreed no presents.  He got me a postcard and (against the rules) a spaghetti portioner!  But it's more a gift for our family than a Valentines gift because we have been talking about it for quite some time.  He saw it the other day when he was down the street watching the &lt;a href="http://crazybetter.blogspot.com/2009/02/while-i-was-watching-snow-at-work.html"&gt;fire drama &lt;/a&gt;unfold. He also got me (really against the rules) a package of roses and Laugh, Live, Love rub ons for scrapbooking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He spent just a few euro, and I could not be happier.  Certainly not happier with some 50euro dozen roses that are going to die in a few days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentines Day.  Enjoy the love.  It's really all you need.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8567555543259657099?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8567555543259657099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8567555543259657099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8567555543259657099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8567555543259657099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-is-all-you-need.html' title='Love is all you need.'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5596272266265666835</id><published>2009-02-13T09:40:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T14:21:22.290+01:00</updated><title type='text'>$2-$3?  FOR A DRINK???</title><content type='html'>That's right. Just about anywhere you go, it's going to run you a couple bucks for a beverage. Some days I'd pay $5 for 4 ounces of ice cold fountain Coke! And that's okay! But most days I'd be just as happy with some water to wash down my meal. It's better for my body anyway! So, today's lesson:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because it's part of the "meal deal" doesn't mean it is cost effective or even a "deal" at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are getting a meal to go, or eating in a food court type setting, take a small bottle of water with you. This can be a refillable Nalgene or those stainless steel type bottles, or a disposable Dasani (or whatever). Two notes-#1: I'm told it is not a good idea to buy one disposable and keep refilling it. Something about bacteria or the plastic leeching out or something. #2: I get it if you don't want to whip out your stash in a restaurant for fear of embarrassment or being told you can't do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it is less expensive than $2, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at Taco Bell:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Nacho Bell Grande (no tomatoes, and BTW, I think I'm going to ask how much for extra tomatoes and when they tell me I'm going to ask for a discount since I don't want any. ;) )&lt;br /&gt;+ 1 cruncy taco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;total: $4.88&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same food as a number whatever. Who am I kidding? I know it's a #5. I've ordered it enough times! To be fair, the taco isn't a "supreme", so I'm missing out on a squirt of sour cream and more tomatoes I don't want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cost of #5? $6.89. That's $2.01 for a drink. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Again, I'm not asking you to give up your favorite. If you really think the meal is better with the Coke (or Dr Pepper or whatever) GET IT. I'd be getting it at Sonic! I'm just letting you know, you have options. They try to make you think you don't. Here's how the conversation went:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;TB Guy: WelcometoTacoBellCanItakeyourorder? &lt;--said REAL FAST as though it is one word. That's how our Taco Bell guy is.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: One Nacho Bell Grande no tomatoes and one crunchy taco, please.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;TB Guy: You want the meal? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: No thank you. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;TB Guy: Drink?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: No thank you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;TB Guy: Wouldyoulikecinnamoncrispswiththat?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: No thank you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;TB Guy: Hereortogo?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: Here, please.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;TB Guy: $4.88.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm in and out under five dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5596272266265666835?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5596272266265666835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5596272266265666835' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5596272266265666835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5596272266265666835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/2-3-for-drink.html' title='$2-$3?  FOR A DRINK???'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-322730567510009181</id><published>2009-02-12T18:44:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T18:58:50.974+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooking for Two</title><content type='html'>It seems I have two natural speeds.  For one, which I perfected over the course of 20 single years, and for a bunch, which is how most meat is packaged.  We need for two.  So I am learning how to cook for husband and self, not more.  Why?  A couple of reasons. &lt;br /&gt;#1, I don't like reheated chicken.  I've come a long way where chicken is concerned.  Not all the way to "on the bone", but a good distance from "chicken is disgusting".  So if we cook a pkg of chicken breasts, there are too many to eat in one meal.&lt;br /&gt;#2, some foods are not conducive to next-day-take-to-work lunch leftovers.  Like pulled pork sandwiches.  Just too messy.  Tacos, same deal. &lt;br /&gt;#3, if you cook way too much, the leftovers just become unbearable.  Ever made a GIANT pot of soup (ie vegetable or taco) and then you can't eat it for a year because you are so sick of it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these scenarios end in food thrown away or overeating because we don't want to feel bad about wasting.  And that translates to wasted money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I'm working out:&lt;br /&gt;Chicken breasts-4 in a package.  One night, Fried Onion crusted baked chicken with potatoes and a vegetable.  The next night, chicken fajitas (marinate the over the first night).&lt;br /&gt;1 lb hamburger meat-Make 1/2 pound for tacos, and two 1/4 pound patties for hamburgers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trick is in the planning.  I always knew planning was a GOOD thing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-322730567510009181?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/322730567510009181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=322730567510009181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/322730567510009181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/322730567510009181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/cooking-for-two.html' title='Cooking for Two'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6208451964383388339</id><published>2009-02-11T21:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T21:37:48.087+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Coke</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, when you aren't even really hungry, but a group of friends is going out to eat and you don't want to miss all the fun...it's okay to order "Just a Coke," please. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6208451964383388339?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6208451964383388339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6208451964383388339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6208451964383388339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6208451964383388339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-coke.html' title='Just a Coke'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-507080222540517962</id><published>2009-02-10T19:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T19:51:21.496+01:00</updated><title type='text'>THRIFTY!</title><content type='html'>I went to the Thrift Store today with my 14 items! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Trift Store on post you can take 14 items per day.  Unless you are PCSing (permanent change of station=moving), then I don't know what the limit is.  You can actually take that many every day, but I try to do it at least once per month.  They keep 25%, and put the money back into the community through projects and scholarships.  It's a pretty good deal.  They also accept hand crafted items, so I have made some cards and sold a few of those as well.  Cards...that's a whole other post!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would not believe what you have hanging around your house that you don't need or want.  You could keep dusting it, leave it in the closet/attic/basement, or you could sell it and listen to that change going jinga-linga-ling in your pocket!  Maybe you don't have a Thrift Store with a plan like this one.  Have a garage sale!  Craig's List it.  Or, save some pennies by trading some things with friends (books, clothes, dvds) new-to-you is still new!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH, and on the way out, I picked up my check from last month.  $18.75!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-507080222540517962?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/507080222540517962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=507080222540517962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/507080222540517962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/507080222540517962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/thrifty.html' title='THRIFTY!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7841317851157236210</id><published>2009-02-09T15:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T15:18:12.574+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Original or not so much...</title><content type='html'>I stole this.  But I just came across it in my email and thought "ha! That's a lot of pennies, I'll put that on the blog!"  So here it is, taken from Dotti's Newsletter, and she took it from Redbook!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What YOU could SAVE in a year IF YOU…&lt;br /&gt;Eat dinner out twice a month instead of once a week: $1080&lt;br /&gt;Bring your lunch to work three days a week (if lunch with a drink cost about $7/day): $1050&lt;br /&gt;Buy just two $3.00 lattes a week instead of five: $450&lt;br /&gt;Get a pedicure ($25.00) once a month instead of twice a month: $300&lt;br /&gt;Color your hair every six weeks at home ($10.00) instead of a salon ($75): $560&lt;br /&gt;Stop buying one new book a month and use the library instead: $360&lt;br /&gt;Adjust your thermostat from 72 degrees F to 68 degrees F ~ from November thru March: $200&lt;br /&gt;Replace four standard light bulbs that burn two hours a day with compact fluorescent bulbs: $35     ~~Redbook, January 2008 &lt;a href="http://www.redbookmag.com/"&gt;www.redbookmag.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW.  That's a lot of pennies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7841317851157236210?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7841317851157236210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7841317851157236210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7841317851157236210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7841317851157236210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/original-or-not-so-much.html' title='Original or not so much...'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-402726051330125643</id><published>2009-02-08T15:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T15:54:31.787+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day Off</title><content type='html'>Well, I said I'd go as long as I could without skipping a day on the blog.  Yesterday, I skipped a day.  I'm going to use this as my springboard for today's "how to save a penny." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday has traditionally been a day of rest.  Here, in Germany, it very much is.  Only the gas stations are open.  Actually, I wouldn't be surprise to find one of those closed.  Does that irritate me?  Sometimes.  Maybe I'd like to get some bread or flowers or ice cream down the street on a Sunday.  But will the world keep on spinning if I don't?  Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lesson here for those surrounded by stores open 7 days a week, and some open 24/7, is to take a day.  At least one day each week, don't go in a store.  Make it a little game if you need to.  If all you were going to do today was "look around" at the mall or "window shop" try NOT.  I don't know many people (myself included) who very often go in a store and not spend a penny.  You didn't see anything you needed, but how about some gum on the way out?  There's always something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if you don't need something specific you can put on a list, then there isn't any purpose for going in the store.  So don't.  That's your suggestion/tip/hint for the day.  Just Don't Do It. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-402726051330125643?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/402726051330125643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=402726051330125643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/402726051330125643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/402726051330125643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/day-off.html' title='A Day Off'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6513134133983325246</id><published>2009-02-06T22:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T22:55:38.251+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Day is a Good Day to Save a Penny</title><content type='html'>Today I am tired.  I just want to go to bed.  But I told myself I'd try to post every day.  We'll see how long that lasts, but it's free, so why not?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's tip:  Just because you drove to the store to find what you saw someone else had and thought you really liked, doesn't mean you have to purchase it when you find it.  If you don't love it, or don't love it as much as it costs (you know the difference between a $2 love and a $12 love) leave it.  If you think it is a must have, but you aren't sure, leave it.  Sleep on it.  If you still want it tomorrow, you can go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6513134133983325246?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6513134133983325246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6513134133983325246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6513134133983325246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6513134133983325246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/every-day-is-good-day-to-save-penny.html' title='Every Day is a Good Day to Save a Penny'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-4675519710141779588</id><published>2009-02-05T13:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T14:08:21.997+01:00</updated><title type='text'>5 calls to save big bucks!  (or 3)</title><content type='html'>I saw this on the Today show.  They had a list of 5 calls you can make to save money.  Well...I tuned in late and only saw 3 of them.  I tried to find it on the internet, but didn't.  So, the ones I heard are:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Call your credit card companies and ask them to lower your interest rate.  Mention the offers you've gotten in the mail if they are lower, compare with other cards you may have that you could transfer that balance to, etc.  *my note: and pay those cards off ASAP...CUT THEM UP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Call your car insurance company and update your information.  You may be able to be underwritten at a lower rate if, for example, you now take public transportation more often, you don't let your teenager drive anymore, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Call your cell phone provider and ask to add people to a friends and family plan.  They are pretty liberal with who they allow on a shared plan.  They don't want to lose your business, so they may be willing to work with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another quick note from me...take a sick day every now and then so you can see programs like this on daytime television. :) (as long as you get paid sick days, that is).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-4675519710141779588?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4675519710141779588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=4675519710141779588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4675519710141779588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4675519710141779588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/5-calls-to-save-big-bucks-or-3.html' title='5 calls to save big bucks!  (or 3)'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2781486203035189722</id><published>2009-02-04T13:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T14:06:38.363+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Four and a Quarter</title><content type='html'>That's $4.25. &lt;br /&gt;$4.25 for a trip to the salad bar and your choice of 2 types of soup, a piece of swiss steak (breaded and topped with brown gravy), rice or noodles, cauliflower, green beans, a roll, and a cookie or piece of pie or cake.  If you are not interested in that menu, you can choose a hamburger or grilled cheese and fries, and can pick up a piece of fruit (banana, apple or orange) as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To drink, you can choose from Coke, Diet Coke, Hi C Fruit Punch, Sprite, water, chocolate milk, skim or 2% milk, or coffee.  Refills are free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where can you get this great meal?  Why at your friendly neigborhood (post) DFAC, of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DFAC= dining facility, formerly known as the chow hall.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$4.25 beats an average of $7 at Burger King, Taco Bell or Popeyes, and the choices can be healthier!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2781486203035189722?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2781486203035189722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2781486203035189722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2781486203035189722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2781486203035189722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/four-and-quarter.html' title='Four and a Quarter'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7441680859436651010</id><published>2009-02-03T09:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T09:23:23.323+01:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't judge a banana by its peel</title><content type='html'>I forgot to write this yesterday, but it is just as well...I'd like to make a tip each day, so let's just say I saved it (like a penny!) for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the commissary, and I know at grocery stores all the time, they have the "scratch and dent" food.  The box is smashed on the corner, the can is dented, the produce is about to expire.  So yesterday I see a bunch of bananas that still have a hint of green around the stem.  They all have black scratch marks on them.  You know, like maybe they were at the bottom of the pile, had a rough ride to the store, or were handled by some toddlers.  They were very firm, and clearly just bruised, not overripe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been peeling and freezing in a ziploc several bananas at a time, then making a smoothie for breakfast.  Smoothie = 1 frozen banana, 1/2-1 c frozen strawberries, about 1/2 c fat free or low fat plain yogurt if I have it, if not 1c skim milk.  (If I have the yogurt, I just put about 1/2 c of the milk so that it will blend better).  Throw it all in the blender (Magic Bullet blender!) and wa-la, healthy breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my story-I've been buying just regular bananas, I have no idea how much they cost.  39cents per pound sounds familiar.  Well, yesterday there were several "scratch and dent" bags.  So I got 5 bananas.  For FIFTY CENTS! :)  pleased with self.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7441680859436651010?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7441680859436651010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7441680859436651010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7441680859436651010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7441680859436651010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-cant-judge-banana-by-its-peel.html' title='You can&apos;t judge a banana by its peel'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7928744934958980684</id><published>2009-02-02T19:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T20:08:05.965+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What are we doing here?</title><content type='html'>I decided to make this blog a little more useful.  It was just for recording my dreams.  And while I had a very interesting one Saturday night about me and a few friends poisoning someone in a hotel room with a very complex system of running the poison through the water (just to that person's room), that's not why we are here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm here to start recording some things I'm doing to save a penny or two.  Just good common sense, really, but things I never thought about.  My friend KC just posted a week or so ago about price comparisons on milk.  It was eye opening.  I've never really considered the price of anything I buy at the grocery store/commissary.  If someone asked me how much milk or bread or eggs cost, I couldn't even make an educated guess.  Imagine my SHOCK to find out today that Hellman's mayonnaise is $4.49.  That's almost FIVE DOLLARS for a jar of eggs, vinegar and oil!  And then double that amazement and turn it to anger to find out...we ALREADY HAD a brand new unopened jar of it!  ugh.  Am I going to start making my own mayonnaise?  Probably not.  But cookies?  $3 something a package?  or whip up what you have in the cabinet?!  I made 2 dozen giant chocolate chunk cookies (chocolate chunks were at the USO for a donation.  I gave $1).  I already had flour, sugar, brown sugar, eggs, etc.  ta-da, $2 something saved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tune in next time for...well, I don't know what, but something money saving! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7928744934958980684?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7928744934958980684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7928744934958980684' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7928744934958980684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7928744934958980684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-are-we-doing-here.html' title='What are we doing here?'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6042276836703617019</id><published>2008-11-12T09:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T09:42:21.959+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What are you doing for lunch?</title><content type='html'>It's kind of fuzzy now, because I waited until I got to work to write it down.  But we were workign at Weiners.  Everyone trying to figure out who was doing what for lunch.  I left to run an errand and said I'd just check around for where everyone was.  On the way I stopped at the store on South Street, the one that is on that kind of corner where if you take a left but it is more of a veer left (coming from the Methodist Church direction) and if you keep going you end up on McDonalds/Highland Square street.  Anyway, I go in to get a bottle of water and the guy informs me that this is no longer a convenience store, but a cafeteria/buffet.  okay...so I leave and go to CGBs parent's house to ask if they know who went where for lunch.  They don't.  So I drive on.  I end up seeing Jenn G-M and turn to follow her.  We end up back at Weiners, and sit talking in the parking lot.  She was saying something about how much weight she had gained since hs, and I was very confused bc she looked the exact same, and I'm not sure we weren't STILL in hs or just out of.  She was saying how she weighed 51 lbs in hs, and wore less eye liner.  No idea why that sticks in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;freaky dreams!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6042276836703617019?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6042276836703617019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6042276836703617019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6042276836703617019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6042276836703617019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-are-you-doing-for-lunch.html' title='What are you doing for lunch?'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2660239087084693609</id><published>2008-11-10T10:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T10:18:51.861+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Another night, another concert</title><content type='html'>This time it was Rod Stewart.  And it was crazy because he was playing at the Top Hat or the Cove or some place on post, or some little place in Burstadt.  I just know it was a tiny little venue, and he was out having drinks with the people in the club.  I could not believe he had acutally just played the night before in some other little town, osterbergenheim or something German-ish like that.  Oh, and he looked like he looked in the early 80s, not like now.  Anyway, Bola walked through the door with not so little Th/Ab.  He was so big.  Like an 8 yr old.  She asked if I wanted to stay for the show or take him home and watch him while she was at the show.  I said I'd take him!  So then we are driving in the car and she and I keep switching off driving, while the car is moving, just one holding the steering wheel while the other is climbing over the seat, etc.  It was bizarre! &lt;br /&gt;A little later we came back to pick her up and she either WAS or was with someone named Felicia or something like that who was pregnant but trying not to show it.  I was shocked because she had adopted Ab and now was pregnant.  And then it seemed like we were at my Aunt Nancy's house, but not the one she lives in now, the one she lived in when Nik and Scott were little.  Then the trash man woke me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odd...very odd...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2660239087084693609?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2660239087084693609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2660239087084693609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2660239087084693609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2660239087084693609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/another-night-another-concert.html' title='Another night, another concert'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-1566808350049864868</id><published>2008-11-09T10:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T10:28:06.225+01:00</updated><title type='text'>ALL over the map</title><content type='html'>Last night was crazy.  Just got up and am getting it down before I eat breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first part I remember was going to a Rascal Flatts concert.  It was really great and we were so close to them, like literally about 15 feet.  There were about 35-50 people there with our group, some from here, most from home.  Then some of us left and some stayed for the follow up band.  I was one of the leavers.  On the way out we passed their tour bus, it was really cool.  Like a trailer/motor home, had a big round picnic table type hang out area that had pencils and notebooks and magazines and whatnot.  We just peeked in the door, I have no idea why I would remember that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there the USO type bus tour took us around the town.  We were somewhere in Poland or Czech or somewhere like that.  There was some concern that the tour guide/bus driver (which are normally different people, but here were one) kept leaving the bus to drive itself while she walked down the aisle and talked about stuff.  We got off, walked around, did some shopping.  One of the ladies was looking for desk trays, the in/out box kind, preferrably ones that stacked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got the rest of the group from the concert place, *****we went to an Alvin State Bank type place, where there was going to be a flea market so people could sell their stuff because they were moving or whatever.  The 72d commander asked if SB could bring his EO slides to the event so he could do like a looping brief where people could listed to his equal opportunity information as they shopped.  Someone said something about them paying for their stuff and he acted like people could pay if they wanted, like on a donation basis.  Kim Bullard was there (she's a high school IRL and current FB friend) and arguing about how they are going to pay her for her stuff because otherwise she was just going to take it to the thrift store where she was more sure to get cash for it.  Someone brought their dog, and it was pink with pink eyes.  There was only a strip of black over it's eyes.  Like a lone ranger mask.  Someone else had another dog who was chasing a spider.  The spider was fa-reaky looking.  Shaped like a tootsie roll, but bigger, maybe 3 inches long and an inch around (?) coloring like a gummy worm (clearish w/ orangy-reddish tint) and four legs on each end that were on a circular free spinning type system.  I told you.  freaky.  Then I woke up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****There was a break here, where I went to work out with Elizabeth (fried/co worker here) and afterwards we went to a little cafe and had breakfast.  T. Blakeney (former president ASB) was there, and he told the waitress to refund our money, he was paying for our breakfast (I think this is because the commercial was on last night where the man pays for the Soldier's family's meal because he "appreciates his service") anyway, then the cafe needed quarters, so we went to the bank...picked up the above part there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CGB-no, previous post was not dream related.  I just used this forum to post it so I could post it to my scrapbooking forum.  I was thinking of doing some card making and stamping the back with that.  I am being called Heather B or Mrs. B pretty regularly now.  you know, since no one can say my last name very easily.  I got really excited about the cards...and then just kind of abandoned it.  we'll see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1566808350049864868?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1566808350049864868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1566808350049864868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1566808350049864868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1566808350049864868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-over-map.html' title='ALL over the map'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5936138243308729461</id><published>2008-09-30T09:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T09:22:06.917+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Heather B</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/SOHPyn_uQLI/AAAAAAAAAA4/X3O1YS-jFys/s1600-h/handcrafted.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251707109127372978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/SOHPyn_uQLI/AAAAAAAAAA4/X3O1YS-jFys/s320/handcrafted.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/SOHRpOu6nTI/AAAAAAAAABA/buP80st7THw/s1600-h/bees.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251709146750426418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/SOHRpOu6nTI/AAAAAAAAABA/buP80st7THw/s400/bees.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something I am working on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5936138243308729461?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5936138243308729461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5936138243308729461' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5936138243308729461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5936138243308729461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/heather-b.html' title='Heather B'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/SOHPyn_uQLI/AAAAAAAAAA4/X3O1YS-jFys/s72-c/handcrafted.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7462939490821445658.post-1967898346670548367</id><published>2008-09-30T09:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T09:04:44.471+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Wreckage, water and pantlessness</title><content type='html'>It has been probably almost a week since I had this dream, but I kept forgetting to blog it.  I can't remember now how it started, but I was driving a giant Cadillac that belonged to our Health and Wellness Coordinator.  Erin, another FRSA was in the car with me (with her kangaroo and bush baby pets!) and I was driving home to get some pants.  I think I had been at the gym and forgot my pants? Something like that.  Well, I went to turn the corner, and it was like that turn on Old Manvel Rd that if someone is coming from the other direction you can't both fit on the little bridge.  So I can't get the giant car around the corner and one tire goes off the edge.  I jump out and Erin tries to help me to push the car back on the road.  it just kept sliding off and went underwater.  I'm saying GREAT, we aren't insured on this car, etc.  Still have no pants on.  Then I think I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1967898346670548367?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1967898346670548367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1967898346670548367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1967898346670548367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1967898346670548367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/wreckage-water-and-pantlessness.html' title='Wreckage, water and pantlessness'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6314112938114686735</id><published>2008-09-21T20:19:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T20:23:31.219+02:00</updated><title type='text'>whaaaa???</title><content type='html'>Because it is now Sunday night, the dreams I woke up with have faded.  What I remember:&lt;br /&gt;Grocery shopping in the dark.  The store (Kroger, I believe) only had enough electricity to run the freezers and refrigerated areas, so everyone was squinting at the shelves.  I saw several high school faces, Kim Berger I think was one of them.  Jeff Green, some others.  I got to the check out and someone told me that Ray Goins had died.  I started crying.  Today I looked through all the yearbook pictures on facebook, I have no idea who that is.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was another completely separate dream that I can't recall now.  I told Stephen about both of them when I woke up, but he can't remember it either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6314112938114686735?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6314112938114686735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6314112938114686735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6314112938114686735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6314112938114686735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/whaaaa.html' title='whaaaa???'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5383049588025561842</id><published>2008-09-19T20:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T20:47:19.958+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress revealed in dreams</title><content type='html'>I am assuming I am more stressed about the situation on the Gulf Coast than I would like to admit.  For the past 3-4 nights I have dreamed about storms and flooding.  I'm walking through flooded streets up to my waist or chest and brushing aside storm debris.  I wake up because the water is too cold and realize that it's cold in our bedroom and that's why I've woken up.  (because yeah, it's already been 37-39 degrees in the morning)&lt;br /&gt;The unit we saw off to deployment last October is due home January-ish.  We have been talking about homecoming activities, and yesterday I saw some footlockers on another post that had been sent forward from a unit that is returning this weekend.  They send their stuff ahead so it doesn't have to go on the plane with them, and it can be put in their barracks and it's there for them when they return.  Well, last night I dreamed that our unit had started to ship their things home.  We were putting the different lockers in the rooms by name.  I took one and it was sloshy.  I opened it and it was full of murky water with wood slivers and plastic parts.  I tried to salvage some of the belongings and make it look nice for when the Soldier returned.  My heart was aching at what he was going to come home to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up thinking...and there it is.  My worlds just collided in my sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5383049588025561842?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5383049588025561842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5383049588025561842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5383049588025561842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5383049588025561842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/09/stress-revealed-in-dreams.html' title='Stress revealed in dreams'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2806555612925198357</id><published>2008-08-08T20:05:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T20:06:41.681+02:00</updated><title type='text'>2 months today!</title><content type='html'>I just thought I'd see if this was even still here, and promise (again) to write my dreams down.  They are fascinating to me and I like to look back on them.  We'll see if I can keep up with it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2806555612925198357?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2806555612925198357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2806555612925198357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2806555612925198357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2806555612925198357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/08/2-months-today.html' title='2 months today!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8793445884419838427</id><published>2008-06-08T18:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T18:58:37.857+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Couple from the week</title><content type='html'>One day this week I dreamed that I had a baby.  We had a baby, and we left to go somewhere.  I said to SB, "did you get the baby?"  He said, "for what?  I thought it would be happier staying home.  do we have to take it everywhere?"  I said, "I don't know, but I don't think you are suppose to leave them all alone."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had a dream that we were missing graduation.  I had to keep telling people, trying to convince them that it was like 7 or 8 hrs later than they thought.  They would say, no look, it is still light outside.  I would have to say, no, it stays light until TEN O'CLOCK!!!  It was crazy.  Once I finally convinced everyone, I had to pick up CG at TX Fairway so we could go, and when we got there (about 20 of us in a van) we had just missed Erin A and Aura A.  Then I wanted to go out after graduation and SB said no, we didn't need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me after that one why he's always a jackash in my dreams.  I have no idea!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8793445884419838427?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8793445884419838427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8793445884419838427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8793445884419838427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8793445884419838427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/06/couple-from-week.html' title='Couple from the week'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6258562691693066986</id><published>2008-06-01T12:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T12:14:40.061+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sa-sa-sa-saturday nii-hiiiiight!</title><content type='html'>For some reason we were in the valley/on South Padre.  In a house that looked (inside) like my Mimi and Papa's.  But there were two of "Jan's bedroom", one that my mom and I were staying in and one my brother was staying in.  We had been there visiting.  I was doing a Pampered Chef show.  (Apparently I was a consultant, I was trying to order new uniforms.  they looked kind of like the ones my mom wore when she was a travel agent.  You got a choice of about 1-3 tops, then you put them with skirts with matching material or khaki or navy skirt or pants.  VERY mixy/matchy.  Anyway, it was time to leave.  I went to my Mimi's room to get my pearls that she had given me, then to look for my brother.  Previously I had been irritated with him because we were in my Geo and he just got in the drivers side like he was going to drive because he was the man.  I didn't care if he drove, but he should have asked me.  Now, I keep harping that it is time to go!  It is already evening and we have to drive all the way home (which I am guessing is Alvin).  At some point I got really really upset because my Mimi had gone somewhere and wouldn't be back for a day or two, and I didn't get to say goodbye.  Then, there was a place called Girl Time.  They were like a party planner place for grown up girl slumber parties.  I was going to plan one with all my girlfriends with nail appts, and spa time and the works.  I was really excited about planning it, but was still running around screeching about how my brother needed to COME OOOOONN!!!!  I don't even think I ever saw him.  I just kept telling my mom to tell him to COME OOOONNN!!!  "He's where??  In the shower?! argh, tell him to COOOMMME OOOONN!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can think of regarding the origins here is:&lt;br /&gt;It's time to go (back to the US)&lt;br /&gt;I've been heavily into the Pampered Chef lately, but no idea what the uniform matchy matchy was about.&lt;br /&gt;I was looking at albums last night and lingering on bachelorette party girlfriend pics.  Need some girlfriend time.&lt;br /&gt;My mom's side is having a reunion next weekend that I'm missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6258562691693066986?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6258562691693066986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6258562691693066986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6258562691693066986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6258562691693066986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/06/sa-sa-sa-saturday-nii-hiiiiight.html' title='Sa-sa-sa-saturday nii-hiiiiight!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3066801529295421335</id><published>2008-05-30T08:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T08:26:30.122+02:00</updated><title type='text'>29 May 08</title><content type='html'>Still dreaming about the reunion…&lt;br /&gt;In last night’s episode, I was in the back seat of my first car (the grey Buick) but it still belonged to my parents.  They were in the front, and we were driving through Alvin.  I was crying and we pulled up to a light.  I rolled down the window to tell Tiffany Gray that I couldn’t come to the reunion because I had to go to something for my “dad’s company”.  I specifically remember that because if you know me very well, you know that my dad never worked for a “company”.  He always taught govt and history at ACC!  Always.  So, anyway, a little while later it is decided I can go.  I put on the dress I wore in Betsy R. C’s wedding and go.  (yes, it still fit…in the dream!)  Stephen was there now, I guess we were staying with my parents, I don't know if we lived there or if my brother lived there.  When I get to the reunion, (you know, it’s right there in Alvin, like in that “new Senior’s Center” that is 20 years old now or something) everyone is there.  We are doing something like signing each other’s yearbooks, but there is something going on about making packets for each other (??) and I am making one for Tessa Gardner.  Someone is singing karoke.  Then Christy gets the microphone and gives a little speech about how she use to be very reserved and to herself, but now she loves the microphone.  She explained that she stands up for what she believes in regarding her family.  She isn’t in-your-face, but if you challenge her, she will tell you how it is.  She finished what she was saying and left.  I wanted to go with her, but then J.J. Shannon started singing karoke.  I think the whole karoke scene was because before bed I watched Psych and the two main characters were undercover in a singing show like American Idol called Duos.  Anyway, BIZ-R as usual!  I hope these dreams cease by next weekend once it’s over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and I must not have been living with my parents, because the day after I was trying to get a Space A flight back to Germany and I was going to be in trouble if I didn't get one because my job (I was still at the G8) didn't approve for me to be gone past Monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3066801529295421335?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3066801529295421335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3066801529295421335' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3066801529295421335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3066801529295421335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/29-may-08.html' title='29 May 08'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-4657177429446015941</id><published>2008-05-19T15:16:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T15:18:09.598+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday night/Sunday morning</title><content type='html'>I dreamed I was backing up in a car (don't know which one) down the spiral driveway of a parking garage.  When all of a sudden...WHAM!  I hit the wall.  Jarred awake and grumbled at the dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-4657177429446015941?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4657177429446015941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=4657177429446015941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4657177429446015941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4657177429446015941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/saturday-nightsunday-morning.html' title='Saturday night/Sunday morning'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6030427267984493799</id><published>2008-05-16T07:49:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T07:57:57.612+02:00</updated><title type='text'>PMS.  In a dream?  yep.</title><content type='html'>There was a lot more to this dream than I can remember, but I was SO tired when I got up that it was fading really fast.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at someone's housing area, and we were working out, like seriously sweating working out.  When we got finished, we went up to their apt, and the girl (kind of a mixture of several the spouses here)was talking about how Sandra Bullock is a newscaster now.  I burst out crying and was screaming about how, "SEE???  WE MISS EVERY SINGE *#$%** THING!!!"  and just going on and on like a crazy person like it was the biggest deal ever that Sandra Bullock became a newscaster and AFN didn't carry it.  Then I said I had to go home right then.  So I was collecting my things and started to leave and somehow I think I was trying to leave out the balcony but had to jump from one to the other and had all this stuff.  Blanket, some clothes?  I have no idea.  So, I fall, that's the "falling part" of the dream.  I have those periodically.  I just fall and fall for a while.  Once I land, SB and a couple other people walk up and we are talking and someone says something about how we had to spend that money.  I said, "for what?"  SB said, "oh, we called your brother and we were on the phone for about an hour and a half."  Then I was screaming again about how could you call without me? and didn't you think I'd want to talk to him???  He tried to say something about how they had some business to discuss and it had already waited 90 days.  Said it like that.  90 days.  ????  Of course I'm all, "what kind of business?  I can know!  Stop trying to keep stuff from me!" etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also something in there where there was some fried chicken on a counter and I was trying to pick off crispy pieces of the outside.  and trying to be quiet because my Mimi was asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6030427267984493799?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6030427267984493799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6030427267984493799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6030427267984493799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6030427267984493799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/pms-in-dream-yep.html' title='PMS.  In a dream?  yep.'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7895830563885043451</id><published>2008-05-15T08:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T08:16:33.210+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Kind of fuzzy</title><content type='html'>Memory of this one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of it was about the reunion.  I think my brain is working it out and being okay with not being there for the high school one or my mom's side family one.  In the dream, I was at a kind of pre-reunion or coctail hour kind of thing.  There were about 20 people there.  Angie N, Bobby B, Tiffany G, Deb Lutz, and I think she was married to Roy Mallow or someone, maybe a compilation of him and a couple other people?  anyway, I think all this is from the uploaded pics to the myspace group.  It was people in those pics.  So, we are at the get together and I remember saying, "Is this it?  Is this all that is coming?"  Also, my dad told me that at his 20 yr they got 200something of 279 there.  Sounded great!  I don't think we will get that high a percentage.  They had theirs in an airplane hanger!  How cool (and 60s-ish) is that?  Anyway, I woke up not fretting about missing anything.  So I think this is a good thing...&lt;br /&gt;Also, I dreamed that SB told me we were being moved.  Then he said...in 8 months.  So I had to decide whether or not to stay at the G8, go on to the FRSA job, tell them I'd only be there for 8 mo if I did, or what?  There was also some issue about how if we moved in 8 months we would only have 7 left oconus, so what would happen then?  because they aren't suppose to move us twice in one year.  I woke up kind of fretting about this.  I think staying longer than our 451 days (per the counter on the blog!)is still a concern for dreaming Heather.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7895830563885043451?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7895830563885043451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7895830563885043451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7895830563885043451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7895830563885043451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/kind-of-fuzzy.html' title='Kind of fuzzy'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2595563387411925893</id><published>2008-05-14T14:07:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T14:15:19.398+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance!</title><content type='html'>So...I'm in this play/dance/musical.  I have no idea where we are, what the time frame, but in the dream that came before this, SB and I were in a bar and we were just hanging out and the bartender gave us a GIANT bucket of ice with a small person sized test tube like bottle of liquor in it.  SB tried to pick it up, dropped it and we ran out of there.  Anyway, in the play, I was not suppose to have to been in this particular scene.  Whoever is suppose to has not shown up, so someone shoves me onto the stage, the curtain has not gone up yet, so it's totally dark.  I almost fall over someone and I say, "who is that?  I don't know this scene!!"  The girl says, "It's me, Amy."  I look down because the voice is way shorter than me.  From what I can make out, this girl is one of the "steps" young uns from high school.  Like Rhonda or someone, but named Amy, and I know it wasn't Colquitt.  And I think it might actually be someone from here in Germany, a spouse or someone.  Anyway, the lights come up and we are in a line kind of shuffling across the stage.  We pass Tammy Kim (As in Tammy Kim Dance where I took dancing when I was little) and I'm all in her face, "HIIII" but that's all I say, waiting for a look of recognition.  She says, "Heather, go dance!"  I start to say, "but...I don't know it" I only get out, "but" and she says, "you can just watch the others, it is easy, just blend in" as she is ushering me along.  Then the alarm went off.  I snoozed, went back to the dream, but we were just shuffling across the stage and I was looking around.  When the alarm went off again I knew I wouldn't get passed that point, so I just got up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2595563387411925893?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2595563387411925893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2595563387411925893' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2595563387411925893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2595563387411925893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/dance.html' title='Dance!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7750412123906132033</id><published>2008-05-11T09:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T09:44:06.480+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Orders and moves</title><content type='html'>Last night/this morning was a hodgepodge but all related to getting orders and moving.  I was first dreaming that the FRSAs were in charge of putting together all the orders for all the soldiers in our brigades/battalions.  SB was helping me, and while we were putting people together, we were looking for/at different soldiers we know and where they were going. &lt;br /&gt;Then, we started organizing by post.  First we were doing alphabetical, but that didn't make sense because we were going to have to group them by post.  At some point we were on a bus doing this, headed for a hotel.  I think we must have taken a group to their departure city or something.  We were with a bunch of people going to Ft Sill, OK.  When we got to the hotel room, Kristi B was getting ready to do some laundry in the room, I needed to do some too, so I was looking at the other washer, but someone had left clothes in there.  Then, I was irritated with one of the spouses I know IRL who was there because she was determined that when the soldiers returning from Iraq got there they HAD to sign her mug.  Apparently she has been getting signatures since she'd been attending homecomings.  I just kept thinking, "hey, this isn't ABOUT YOU!!!"  &lt;br /&gt;Lastly, at some point, we were putting some scrapbooks together of family members and I had some where people had taken panoramics in several frames to be pasted together, and my uncle D was always sitting in a corner.  I found that odd.&lt;br /&gt;Going to make some breakfast now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7750412123906132033?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7750412123906132033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7750412123906132033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7750412123906132033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7750412123906132033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/orders-and-moves.html' title='Orders and moves'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5394264413709627568</id><published>2008-05-10T07:52:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T08:07:37.368+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello...it's been a while...</title><content type='html'>Please ignore post below.  SB had to do a graph for school and link it to his homework page, so he had to post it somewhere, so here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to get back to this...I've been dreaming, but not so much recording.  I had a couple doozies last night, so here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should start by saying I watched the Barbara Walters special before bed, and that I got an email from AJ saying that the Duggar family of Arkansas is having their 18th child.  So, sometime in the night, I was helping the KC family in a play.  The kids had to be in it for school and needed adult volunteers to play teachers or something.  We were suppose to walk in, sit down, and then stand up one at a time and ask "excuse me," and then something about how to properly do something (like it was a manners or etiquette class).  When it was my turn to stand up, Lisa Walsh had sat on my skirt and the corner of my v-neck tshirt.  I was reaching my arms straight up as I was trying to stand and they both came down about a foot.  So there's my top, down around my ribcage and everyone is laughing.  I'm trying to pull it up and shushing KC and LW who are laughing and I begin my lines (to my kid costar who I think is S, but may be J) with, "excuse me, that is not an appropriate way to react to such an occurrence, can you tell me an appropriate way to do so?"  It was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;THEN, different dream, SB and I are spending the weekend w/ CGB's family, but they have 18 kids (ala the Duggars).  I am shocked to find that there is no fighting, a clean house, general harmony.  I begin to "interview" one of the little girls.  (in BW fashion) and find out that she has been adopted.  She looks right into my eyes, is kind of crying and says, "I don't know why she gave me away, I was just a baby, I didn't even do anything wrong yet."  BW has an adopted daughter, I didn't know that before last night, maybe this brought it up.  ??  anyway, I feel like there was more to this dream, but I can't remember it.  OH, and I asked CGB how she managed this harmony, and she was clueless as to what else she should expect.  "what do you mean?  It's just how we are."  No idea that they should all be fighting, refusing to do chores, etc!&lt;br /&gt;There was one more from last night, I think about the reunion, can't remember it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week or so ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed I was at a "planning meeting" for the Class of 88 reunion. The whole class was there, in a huge room, like a conference room at a hotel. We were throwing out ideas for the reunion, and Kathy O'Steen came up to me and announced that she was angry because I didn't tell her about the reunion. I started crying and told her that I'm not the planner, and I can't even go myself!&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized, we WERE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A REUNION! I mean, we were all there. I woke up thinking 2 things. #1-I have the capability to contact anyone I want, I am part of the myspace/facebook/email generation, and if I want to contact someone and catch up with them, I can do so. and #2-the "realize the situation you are IN" of being there planning it, but not taking advantage of what we actually were doing made sense.&lt;br /&gt;IRL I contacted Kathy O via myspace and told her about the dream and the reunion. She had not heard about it. She probably thinks I am full on crazy. &lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5394264413709627568?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5394264413709627568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5394264413709627568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5394264413709627568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5394264413709627568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/helloits-been-while.html' title='Hello...it&apos;s been a while...'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3870060937913035891</id><published>2008-05-07T20:15:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T20:17:33.074+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/SCHyL-gTrOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/BF0LhX1ZPV0/s1600-h/New+Road.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/SCHyL-gTrOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/BF0LhX1ZPV0/s320/New+Road.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197701732533251298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3870060937913035891?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3870060937913035891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3870060937913035891' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3870060937913035891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3870060937913035891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/SCHyL-gTrOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/BF0LhX1ZPV0/s72-c/New+Road.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7462939490821445658.post-9110236376943502889</id><published>2008-03-02T10:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T10:45:37.804+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach Party!</title><content type='html'>I can't for the life of me remember how this dream started.  When I first woke up I had it, but it faded quickly.  Somewhere in the middle, we were cleaning the house (IRL is covered in dog hair and dirt from our guest and the storms we've been having) and Bill called to say he wouldn't be there that weekend.  I guess he was suppose to be???  He won tickets to see "X".  I have no idea what that is.  So Stephen said he was going to go ahead and go to the all night Texas Hold 'em Tournament (IRL was downtown Mannheim and was Saturday and Sunday, not over night) I said okay that I'd join him sometime during the day.  When I got to the beach where it was being held in a big pavillion, there was a HUGE beach party going on, all our people from America and our friends here.  It wasn't for us or anything, just happened to be everyone we know (and some people we didn't).  I had a hotdog and some chips, I think, but the reason I remember it is because it was on a hamburger bun.  Not the hot dog, but the whole meal.  It was a dinner plate hamburger bun!  And some girl kept coming over and grabbing chips.  "THANKS!!!" she'd say and I would scowl at her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-9110236376943502889?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/9110236376943502889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=9110236376943502889' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9110236376943502889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9110236376943502889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/03/beach-party.html' title='Beach Party!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8769974987978234202</id><published>2008-02-11T18:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T18:14:11.167+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no bloggable dreams...</title><content type='html'>It's been a while.  Last night I was working at a bank type place, but it was running checks through a clearing house.  Christy worked there, too, and some other people that I don't remember but I know are familiar.  We were all in a training and someone said that we were suppose to all get a company credit card.  It was not like use the card and the company pays the bill.  It was like we worked at Bank of America and it was the BOA card.  It was 0% interest, and we had to find an application in a magazine.  They had stacks of magazines and we were suppose to look in them and find the application and do it.  Then, it was time to leave and there was a lady that had just walked in.  I took her over to customer service bc her credit card wasn't reading properly.  Dona (lady who works at the bank IRL here in Mannheim) was helping her and this other lady was telling me how she was just pretending to look it up.  She'd ACTUALLY do it tomorrow, but they had already shut down their systems bc it was 4pm.  Um…ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went to look at this house I was going to rent from Dona.  It was giant, so many rooms, and each room had several beds.  I guess I was going to rent it myself, and she had said it would be $450.  I told her maybe I'd get a roommate since it was so big.  She said, ok, but that it was not $450, it was $500.  I acted like that was some giant sum more than the original quote.  Then I said that Lori and Damon could live with me.  Where was Jake?  Don't know.  Where was Stephen?  Don't know.  The house just kept getting bigger, everytime I turned a corner there was a different room.  And it was all very victorian decorated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, I was skiing and just kept saying how great the snow conditions were.  "See?  This is how I like it!  Not too powdery, not too packed!!"  and I was doing SO GOOD!  Just skiing along like it was nothing!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8769974987978234202?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8769974987978234202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8769974987978234202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8769974987978234202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8769974987978234202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/02/long-time-no-bloggable-dreams.html' title='Long time no bloggable dreams...'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6242976937214667714</id><published>2008-01-23T17:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T17:52:42.824+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Job Situation</title><content type='html'>IRL, I applied for a new position with the Army Community Service.  I am very on the fence about whether or not I really want it.  The only reason is because I am not a job hopper.  I feel like people have invested time and man hours in training me and getting me the gazillion passwords and accesses needed for my current position.  However, the job possibility is back working with programs that help families, which is where my heart is, and it is in marketing/advertising/journalism where my education is.  And it would be a pay increase as well as a career appt whereas my current job was gained by military spousal preference and thus does not carry career status (I know…it's convoluded!) &lt;br /&gt;In dreamland, I was going to my interview with ACS (which I only get if I make the "list of candidates" chosen by the computer…also convoluted).  I get there and it is complete pandemonium.  Everyone is mad, a couple of people are crying.  It appears that one of the Local Nationals (LN) who is an older lady is acting as a Mrs. Garrett (from Facts of Life) and she is suppose to be the "house mother" where some of the employees live.  Gal is working at ACS and living at this house (but IRL there is no house where they live, but Gal does work there).  Apparently she is crying because LN is in trouble for living on the economy and not in the house.  She didn't mean to get LN in trouble, but Mr M, director of ACS is furious and yelling and stomping around.  M, S, and D (friends of mine from ACS) are running around briefing everyone on what is going on, who is saying what and who is in trouble.  Chris, who IRL is a victim advocate/ domestic abuse go to guy, is trying to keep everyone calm and keep the peace.  I ask M, "should I come back tomorrow for my interview?  Seems things are a little crazy just now."  She says, "oh no, it'll all be fine, just wait a few minutes and it will blow over…"&lt;br /&gt;So I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6242976937214667714?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6242976937214667714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6242976937214667714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6242976937214667714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6242976937214667714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/job-situation.html' title='Job Situation'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6960621888220145763</id><published>2008-01-22T21:01:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T21:01:53.723+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Many many dreams...</title><content type='html'>Night before last: Found someone's datebook.  Was looking at it to try to figure out who it belonged to and realized it was Kimberly's.  There was a date highlighted with "Ryan's bday party" on it with details of time and place.  My feelings were hurt because I wasn't invited, so I went anyway.  Turned out to be a job interview where they interviewed both the candidate and his/her spouse.  I burst in crying about why they didn't invite me, and felt horrible when I was told what was really going on.  Apparently Kimberly put it as a party in the datebook in case someone saw it, Ryan didn't want his current employer to know about the interview.  Nice job, cuz!&lt;br /&gt;Last night: First, I was at work at ASB and Dan (boss at G8 here) came in to tell me something about what I should be doing.  I kept trying to verify someone's teller drawer so I could take it over and that person showed it balanced, but I couldn't get it to balance.  The $20s kept sticking together.  I was thinking how much I loved working at the bank (but I wasn't loving it in the dream, I just was thinking I was loving it…) then some people had to have a hold placed on their acct bc they had a $40something,000 check to deposit but not a long enough history or high enough balance to cover.  The lady was so upset and I was trying to explain it to her feeling horrible that they couldn't have access to this money they desperately needed. &lt;br /&gt;Then, I was trying to teach Allison how to make finger puppet shadows on the wall.  We were making Ks so we could say KK (for aunt KeKe).  All of a sudden, she was a teenager and wanted to go out walking the neighborhood with her friends.  I was trying to explain to her that if she would just tell her mom what she wanted to do it wouldn't be a problem.  It was that she would just wander off and not say anything.  Strange thing is that Kimberly, Allison's mom was Paulette (looking) in the dream. &lt;br /&gt;Then, I was at a college type party, and everyone was SO much younger than me.  I started talking to some people, and this one guy was all trying to hold my hand.  "Seriously, do you even remember that red electronic toy that you could play memory games with?  Merlin I believe was the name of it."  He looked at me like I had a third eye.  I said, "See?  What are you, twelve?"  He lowered his head all ashamed and said, no.  26.  I said, "oh, ok, sorry.  But you are still over 10 yrs younger than me."  Not sure why I didn't say, "HEY, back off, you want my husband to punch you?"  Anyway, then he started telling me how he won some award, like some maturity award.  It was ridiculous, then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6960621888220145763?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6960621888220145763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6960621888220145763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6960621888220145763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6960621888220145763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/many-many-dreams.html' title='Many many dreams...'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2295468650172722931</id><published>2008-01-07T18:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T18:59:05.109+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fell off the cliff!</title><content type='html'>We're driving along, S and me, and we are in kind of a desertish climate.  There are some cacti, indian blanket flowers and dirt.  All of a sudden, the road on either side, the shoulders disappear and become cliffs.  I tell him, "scoot over!  You are too close to the edge!!!" he says he is too close to the edge over there, too.  When we stop, we're at the end, cliff on either side, and then out front of us is a drop off, to a lower road.  About a 6-8 ft drop.  He gets out of the car, and steps off, landing on the lower road.  Well, then I have to drive the car.  It seems we think I am just going to pull forward and the car will drop down.  Now, I know in real life that if I pull forward like that I will nosedive into the road.  Not so in the dream.  It is like the coyote, go forward, parallel with the road and then drop flat down.  When we get on the lower level, there is another couple who has done the same thing.  There was some more to this, but I can't remember what it was.  Seems like something about gathering some clothes and food for the needy…or something?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2295468650172722931?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2295468650172722931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2295468650172722931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2295468650172722931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2295468650172722931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/fell-off-cliff.html' title='Fell off the cliff!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5219788309707117373</id><published>2008-01-06T10:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T10:19:29.525+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Dream...or lotta little ones...</title><content type='html'>I was working somewhere like the Alvin State Bank building.  Beth, Christy and Kathy were there and we were going from room to room in the "shop", I don't know what the business was.  We somehow got word that there were bad guys in the area and they were locking down the buildings.  Locking people in, shooting people if met with resistance, etc.  We tried to lay low and act right.  We got separated at some point and were communicating with knocks on the walls.  It was kind of crazy, I don't know how we survived.&lt;br /&gt;Then somehow I &lt;strong&gt;was&lt;/strong&gt; at ASB, working, Jamie came downstairs wearing a black dress with one red shoe and one black shoe.  I looked down and I had the same pair onwith my red dress and jeans (?).  I asked her, "hey, what's going on with your shoes?"  she looked baffled and didn't know.  We traded.  Then I was trying to go back to my teller booth and I didn't know where any keys were or my drawer or anything and people were wondering what my problem was and why I was confused.  They didn't seem to realize I had been gone 10 yrs. &lt;br /&gt;Then, I think this is a totally separate dream, I was in a homeless camp doing research about these people (I am sure this is because this topic was on Dr. Phil the other night) and out of the blue Kerry and Denver from the fantasy football league drive up in a little red Chevette.  There was a lot of "omg, HI!  what are you doing here? it's great to see you, etc" followed by "what are you doing with these people??"  The whole homeless camp is a completely different story, but what is relevant here is that they brought me this trophy that was like a sandbag thing, stood about 1.5 ft high and had a big golf ball on both sides and said "Hole in One Champion".  I was furious and accusing them of not wanting to give me the real trophy.  They kept trying to convince me that this WAS the real trophy.  "see where all the past winners are on here?"  Written in sharpie on the back. &lt;br /&gt;So in my homeless camp investigation, the people were really nice, and there were two men and a lady and they ate what they caught on the river and had one car that they only used when all three wanted to go somewhere (that's why they couldn't use it to take me back to my camp-I had walked there).  I ended up leaving with Kerry and Denver, they took me back to my camp and then on to there hotel to visit and eat dinner.  Then I somehow ended up back at home.  And home was here in this house, but apparently in the states.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5219788309707117373?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5219788309707117373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5219788309707117373' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5219788309707117373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5219788309707117373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/long-dreamor-lotta-little-ones.html' title='Long Dream...or lotta little ones...'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8952036191324167507</id><published>2008-01-02T18:56:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T18:56:32.230+01:00</updated><title type='text'>First dream of 2008</title><content type='html'>I was living in a house, near Alta Vista and Coffee streets, there in Alvin, kind of between AJH and AHS, where the Slaters and Eric Evans and the Couchmans lived.  Maybe you know, maybe not.  ANYWAY…I was moving either in or out of a house over there and Dude was moving in with me.  I got him in the house and went back to the car to get some more stuff.  When I walked back up, there was a small child, probably less than a year, but walking a little, standing by the fence (on the outside) all by herself.  I picked her up and held her for a minute, talking to her, and then her grandmother came around the corner.  She was staying there with the grandma, and had toddled away while grandma was tending to the flowers.  I don't know how she got on the other side of the fence, but I handed her back over and went on with what I was doing. &lt;br /&gt;There was a lot more to this dream, and maybe a separate one altogether.  I can't remember though.  And I am blaming post-new years firework wake-up explosions for it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8952036191324167507?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8952036191324167507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8952036191324167507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8952036191324167507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8952036191324167507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/first-dream-of-2008.html' title='First dream of 2008'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3874088848742595882</id><published>2008-01-01T12:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T12:11:15.852+01:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Reception</title><content type='html'>We are going to a Garrison New Years Reception Jan 11.  I guess it was on my mind, so I dreamed we were there, and the special guests were General and Mrs. Via!  The previous General and his wife who left in the summer.  It was so good to see them, she is so so nice.  There was some issue with some dessert, I think I was suppose to be in charge of bringing or being sure it was brought out to the table or something.  I was kind of running around crazy and someone said, “it’s time to do the receiving line!!”  I wanted no part of that until I saw the Gen and Mrs standing there.  I ran up and hugged her and we chatted a minute.  Then I ran off to get the dessert tray.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3874088848742595882?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3874088848742595882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3874088848742595882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3874088848742595882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3874088848742595882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-years-reception.html' title='New Year&apos;s Reception'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-9006856036941149227</id><published>2007-12-30T10:12:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T10:20:09.351+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mike Bertaz</title><content type='html'>I think I spelled his name wrong.  Anyway, last night I was in my office and he came in with a resume.  I asked Alice if she had time to meet with him, she didn't answer me and I was about to leave for the day.  I told him to come back tomorrow, and we went for chocolate shakes at Sonic.  Now, we are in Germany, but when we leave the parking lot, we pull on to the 35 bypass and drive toward 6.  I don't know why we didn't cut over before, there were a couple times I couldn't get the truck (little blue one I use to have) slowed down and pulled over fast enough.  So we ended up taking 6 to Gordon and going to the Sonic.  On the way, we were talking about stuff and he asked if I'd like to go somewhere with him that weekend.  I can't remember, London or somewhere.  I told him I didn't think my husband would appreciate that!  He said, oh no, Dallas and our two kids would go, too!  (for those who don't know, he married Dallas Hyatt that we worked with at Weiners!)  ooooh!  ok!  Well, we didn't get that far with the trip planning because we were still talking about being in Germany, how did you get here, what have you been doing, etc.  I think he said he came over as a DA civilian but that job will be ending soon, so he needs to get something so they can stay because the kids are already settled in school or something.  That's all I can remember.  I woke up JUST as we pulled into the Sonic! :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-9006856036941149227?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/9006856036941149227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=9006856036941149227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9006856036941149227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9006856036941149227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/mike-bertaz.html' title='Mike Bertaz'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8976875046622467713</id><published>2007-12-18T17:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T17:46:41.050+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Belated dreams</title><content type='html'>Saturday night I had another reunion planning dream.  There were 8-10 people staying at some hotel resort place and we were all comparing notes about what we might want to do, how to contact people, etc for the upcoming reunion.  Greg Linbeck was in the dream, and when I woke up I could not remember his last name for my life.  I kept confusing him with Stephen Brashear.  Remember him?  I think he moved away after jr high sometime.  Maybe not, I don't think I had him in any classes in high school, though.  Anyway, I was writing a note to myself to look up Greg's last name, "Classmates-look up Greg Linbeck" oh…I guess I thought of it. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night I had a terrible time falling asleep.  I just wasn't tired.  Of course it seemed like as soon as I fell asleep the alarm was going off!  But just before that, I was dreaming that I had done something to my arm, right in the bend where the vein is.  I think I carried a box or something and it bruised my arm badly. (IRL, I did carry a box Friday and it bruised my thigh badly)  Anyway, we were having a blood drive at the hospital (yeah, the ER hospital.  I don't even watch ER anymore, it came on opposite AmericasNextTopModel) and JUST as the nurse was going to put the needle in my arm, at the exact moment, the alarm went off!  SCARED the beegeebees out of me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8976875046622467713?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8976875046622467713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8976875046622467713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8976875046622467713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8976875046622467713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/belated-dreams.html' title='Belated dreams'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3562916363395921108</id><published>2007-12-06T18:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T18:16:30.228+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Put the Fix it On</title><content type='html'>I was having to do something to fix all the files on my computer.  I guess I was suppose to have installed some kind of fix it patch thingy but I hadn't, so I had to go one by one and do something.  When I finished I got a message on my screen "Heather, next time install the fix it thingy."  I woke up laughing when the alarm went off.  I had not woken up previously, so it was a good night's sleep. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3562916363395921108?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3562916363395921108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3562916363395921108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3562916363395921108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3562916363395921108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/put-fix-it-on.html' title='Put the Fix it On'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8404754225575420745</id><published>2007-12-04T18:52:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T18:52:45.928+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreaming meanness</title><content type='html'>Well, my Mimi (on K side) was getting married at a bed and breakfast type mansion place (notice I dream that a lot??) and all the family was there, all festive and taking pictures.  Then my friend Laurel was getting married at the same place and I was trying to take pictures of it and my BROTHER had left the camera on the video setting.  Every time I tried to take a picture it would start the video camera running.  I was SO mad and yelling WAAADE!!!  Doing exactly what I hate people to do…saying his name ugly.  He was then responding with "WHAAAAT???"  and when I explained what he did he said,&lt;br /&gt;"well, just PUT IT BACK!"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know how!"&lt;br /&gt;Grumble grumble, "hhhhhkkkk (heavy sigh) LIKE THIS!" and he switched it back.&lt;br /&gt;"THANK YOU." &lt;-- not said nicely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8404754225575420745?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8404754225575420745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8404754225575420745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8404754225575420745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8404754225575420745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/dreaming-meanness.html' title='Dreaming meanness'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2395097132419384937</id><published>2007-12-03T18:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T18:59:22.042+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Last night and the night before</title><content type='html'>So…there was going to be some kind of fundraiser to benefit someone who got hurt or whose house burned down or something.&lt;br /&gt;Lynn Gilman came over (to my apt at Willow Creek in Alvin) to tell me that she needed my help and the details.  She was actively avoiding Colleen.  She didn't want to run into her and risk her trying to come to the event.  I don't know why.  When I got there to the event, of course there were a bunch of people I knew, and it was general chaos.  Everyone trying to do all the things.  Someone was trying to cook pancakes on a GIANT griddle and it was too hot so as soon as the batter was poured it would turn black.  I took over the pancake duties even though Deborah Lutz and Lynn had asked me to bale hay for people to sit on.  It seemed to be some kind of country breakfast theme.  I told them to find Kelly Callihan, that she was sure to be good at that.  She was a countryish girl growing up.  I guess the event went well, when I left to go to work (at Weiners) things seemed to be running smoothly and the pancakes were turning out great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night's dream was freakish.  I had to pretend to be involved with an Asian drug lord because I was working undercover (this is what happens when you watch Without a Trace and the FBI lady is undercover and the drug lord is Asian!).  I then had to pretend to have died to get him to go somewhere and get arrested.  S was very upset thinking I had been involved with "Scary Asian Drug Lord Man" and had subsequently been killed.  He found out I was still alive when he broke into my bed and breakfast room (much like the one we stayed in at Oakwind-except there was a whole wall of double french doors that opened out onto this patio).  Before he broke in, there was a big storm and the windows were rattling and being very scary.  I went to close one of them and Tres was there, she was trying to help me close the curtains and I was telling her we had to close the doors first or the curtains wouldn't stop blowing.  Then she wasn't there anymore, but SB was coming in and he was shocked to find me alive!!  I was explaining how none of it was real, I was just pretending to be involved with the guy, and also I had pretended to be really sick so he couldn't come near me or he'd get sick, too and not be able to traffic his drugs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2395097132419384937?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2395097132419384937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2395097132419384937' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2395097132419384937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2395097132419384937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/last-night-and-night-before.html' title='Last night and the night before'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2004425751347680394</id><published>2007-12-01T10:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T10:33:40.729+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Old friends and new friends, Real friends and pretend friends</title><content type='html'>Two dreams last night/this morning.  First, I dreamt &lt;--is that a word?  that I was helping Jim Halpert (yes, from the Office!) to get ready for a road trip he was taking.  I gave him maps, cds of "driving songs" and "Texas songs" (?) repaired his glasses, and we visited for a long time.  We talked about Pam, I kept trying to convince him that she REALLY DOES love him!  and Karen needs to go. (FYI, the most recent we saw was where he asks Pam out to dinner at the end of the show)  We talked about Dwight and Angela, you know because no one in the office knows about their romance.  And I remember telling him how funny I think Kevin is.  We were great friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second dream was my real friends.  We were somewhere like Gruene, going through all the little shops.  I don't know who was there with who, but no one ever saw a stranger.  It was as though we were on a big reunion weekend.  Friends from school, places I've worked, Alvin, Austin, ever corner of my life.  It was just so nice to see everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2004425751347680394?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2004425751347680394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2004425751347680394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2004425751347680394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2004425751347680394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/12/old-friends-and-new-friends-real.html' title='Old friends and new friends, Real friends and pretend friends'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-1739839845484011363</id><published>2007-11-30T19:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T19:48:24.221+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The bad guy made me do it!</title><content type='html'>So, hmmm, I'm not sure where to start.  The first thing I remember is me and some other people (I don't think I know who they are) were running around stealing money out of these big giant old timey cash registers.  The drawers were open and the coins were huge, like the size of my palm.  But apparently we were being forced to do this by some bad guys because we were all scared and didn't want to be stealing.  At some point I ended up at my friend Eric's house and we were talking about what to do about this and how we could return this money.  I started to realize that Eric was in on it.  Or maybe Leonardo (yeah, di Caprio!  How about that?!) was in on it and Eric and I weren't and were trying to get out from under his control…Not sure.  Anyway, a little later, I am in an office and I have a gun and I'm telling everyone who comes in to put their hands up.  I start to round up bags of money and say that I'm going to return them.  Someone tries to cross me and I shoot at them, but purposely shoot just near them.  The bullet bounces around all over the room, like a rubber bullet or something.  And people just keep walking in.  By the time I woke up, there were about 15 people in the room.  I had no idea who was on who's team and who was good or bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1739839845484011363?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1739839845484011363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1739839845484011363' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1739839845484011363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1739839845484011363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/11/bad-guy-made-me-do-it.html' title='The bad guy made me do it!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2702928533320902166</id><published>2007-11-27T18:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T18:41:55.606+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Banking Days</title><content type='html'>As usual, when I sleep soundly for a long time, waking just in time to get out of bed at the last minute for work, I am able to remember only one dream.  This one is like many I have had about Alvin State Bank.  I'm not working there, but have come to visit.  All of my old friends are working there and it is good to see them.  I am concerned, though.  Everyone is wearing jeans and sweatshirts.  I tell Sherry F that Tom would be rolling over if he knew how unprofessional everyone looked.  Everyone except Jamie.  She is wearing really cute jeans with boots, a jacket and jewelry.  Then someone makes a night deposit for a commercial account.  They also included 2 hot dog buns.  (???)  It turned out to be a deposit for 1st National and they asked me to run it over there.  I said I would but that I had not lived in Alvin for so long that I couldn't remember where it was.  They made fun of me and then told me where it was.  Then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2702928533320902166?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2702928533320902166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2702928533320902166' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2702928533320902166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2702928533320902166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/11/banking-days.html' title='Banking Days'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6831679708917861352</id><published>2007-11-26T17:21:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T17:21:56.929+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Weaver</title><content type='html'>So many random thoughts and images thrown into one dream.  I'm not sure how it started, but I was in my aunt/uncle P&amp;amp;Ds room getting ready to go somewhere.  Rebecca was with me, and I think it was her house.  I was looking for hairspray and she was ranting about how someone came over and borrowed it and never returned it.  We were both planning to wear pantsuits, and for some reason we each had 2 pr pants to our suits.  And they were wrinkled, so we were discussing whether or not to iron them.  R put a sweater on over hers.  It was a purple one that I (IRL) had found upstairs yesterday.  Her pantsuit was a dull yellowish color and the two together matched and were the exact tones of the room the guy (IRL) on Top Designer used and thought were cheery.  When we left we were going to school, but we weren't sure which one, so as we were driving down South Street, I asked OH, what year is it?  My mom said 1981.  I said ok, so I'm 11, that's Alvin Jr High.  When in the back of my mind, even in the dream I knew I would have only been in 5th or 6th grade.  When we walked in the school, I pointed in the principal's office at Chris Lindsey and said, See?  There's Chris Lindsey, and he's in my grade, so we are in the right place.  He wasn't in trouble, he was like an office assistant for his elective.  We walked around the courtyard, made the circle and went back to the front office because we weren't sure where we were suppose to be.  There was a donut lady in the office, she apparently brings breakfast each morning.  She was on the phone, though, and everyone was complaining about how she needed to get off the phone and help her customers that were all there waiting to buy donuts from her. &lt;br /&gt;That's all I remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6831679708917861352?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6831679708917861352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6831679708917861352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6831679708917861352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6831679708917861352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/11/dream-weaver.html' title='Dream Weaver'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3971021968655672016</id><published>2007-11-25T11:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T11:26:53.980+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Slept untill ELEVEN!</title><content type='html'>So I woke up many times, new dream each time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was on before this one but I'm starting with this one in hopes that I will remember the first one...&lt;br /&gt;Tina Binford, Adrienne (Germany friend) and I were getting ready for prom.  We were going to wear our prom dresses to school that day.  Then we realized that prom was Saturday, so we changed into regular clothes for school.  We went to school **missing time** after school there was a baseball game but the field had flooded waist deep, and the outfield was neck deep.  I was in the outfield and someone hit a ball my way.  I tried to catch it, it hit me in the eyebrow and I had a huge black eye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just remembered, I knew I would!  I was looking for an apt in Alvin and there was one on Dragon Street, or I thought that's what the ad said.  So I go to where I think that is (the little side street off Gordon, the beginning of Mustang where you turn at Radio Shack/that insurance place but before you hit the light at 35) it is the side street off of that, across from that apt complex, cedar something not grove.  ANYWAY, I drive up and it is a business named Dragon.  It's a scrapbook/craft place and I start talking to the lady who owns it and decide to do a crop and take a couple of classes.  I think we might have even started talking about me working there in some capacity or part owning it or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the prom dream.  Then I think there was another one before this one, but I'm not sure.  Stephen and I were shopping at the PX and saw the mini-donut stand outside.  They make the BEST little donuts in the whole world!  I said, "let's go get some for everyone" because our whole families were visiting us here.  He only wanted to get some for the parents, said the siblings and cousins could fend for themselves!  I told him to quit it and we got a huge tray of them.  Then we were in line and he had to go to the bathroom, so I stood there.  He got back just in time to pay the lady.  The people before us were all paying in weird ways.  One was paying in euro (they don't take euro at the PX-but in real life, these are sold outside at a concessionaire stand, so they DO take euro, only euro) and then a lady was writing a check.  That seems odd in this day and age!  So he comes back and I go to the bathroom, and it was all weird, with different rooms instead of different stalls for ladies.  There were 4 rooms, and a MAN went in one of them.  So I warned the other ladies not to come out still buttoning up into the lounge area because a man had gone into one of the ladies rooms.  Then we go back to the house (a different house, it was in the states type neighborhood) and we were going to have a garage sale, but it was really late, like 11! and there was some concern that all the shoppers would be done garage saling this late.  We started dragging stuff out anyway, and it was all toys that Kimberly and Kristy played with as children!  The nosey neighbor game, the little kitchen set from the playhouse, etc.  crazy. &lt;br /&gt;I know there were one or two more dreams in there, and many details I am missing, but they escape me now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3971021968655672016?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3971021968655672016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3971021968655672016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3971021968655672016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3971021968655672016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/11/slept-untill-eleven.html' title='Slept untill ELEVEN!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7624962908130763834</id><published>2007-11-22T11:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T11:56:53.343+01:00</updated><title type='text'>And it is revived!</title><content type='html'>Last night/this morning I had several dreams. (waking up and going back to sleep bringing new dreams) Of course now I have had breakfast and will soon be getting ready for the big TurkeyDay festivities, so I can't remember all of them.  This will probably be a random mixture of them.&lt;br /&gt;1. At some restaurant, Italian maybe?  I know we were in the states because everyone was speaking english.  There was some discussion of the bad service, and some people's dishes were not good.  Then, as we were leaving, a kind of scary, large, unkempt man was yelling and pointing at us in a threatening way and then he jumped into his big, old Ford "work truck" and sped off, jumping curbs and driving wild.&lt;br /&gt;2.  then we were at some Dairyland type restuaurant and to go to the bathroom you had to climb into these windows that were high up.  Like the Laverne and Shirley windows.  I think I've mentioned those before.  Anyway, I got in and went to the bathroom.  When I closed the stall door, a shower came on, drenching me in my white shirt.  And then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;3.  Then we were at Kimberly and Ryan's house, but it was a new one they had moved into.  they had a GIANT laundry room/pantry.  Like you walkin and then there are door to other things.  W/D, dishwasher, ironing room, closet, pantry, etc!  I was playing a game with Aaron and Allison was playing with the dog (who I mistakenly called Abbey.  KJWH explained that Abbey was the name of the dog who had passed away and this was a new...not as good dog!)  It looked like Dude/Duke or Kristy's Molly.  Anyway, then I woke up.  again.  and it was time to get out of the bed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7624962908130763834?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7624962908130763834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7624962908130763834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7624962908130763834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7624962908130763834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-it-is-revived.html' title='And it is revived!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-1180799757672822620</id><published>2007-11-21T18:31:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T18:38:59.772+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Worlds Collide</title><content type='html'>Well, dream worlds anyway!  I had this dream last night, and the first thing I remember is that I was in a huge white SUV with Aimee and Cathrine.  (Germany friends)  The person in front of us was in a huge white truck and couldn't get it out of a hole or something.  Catherine jumped out and got in the truck to move it.  Aimee and I thought that was odd, but didn't make much of it.  Then we were driving around somewhere and I had to call Mike to tell him I was going to be late to work (at CWA!) because we still had to catch the boat to get there.  While I was talking to him we got to the boat and I kept dropping my shoes.  One, then I'd pick it up, then drop the other.  One went in the water and I called back to tell him that when I got to work I would only have one shoe on.  He said he didn't want to hear about that, he wanted to hear how married life is! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I know it's been a long time since I've posted, but this one stayed with me all day, so I thought I'd share it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1180799757672822620?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1180799757672822620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1180799757672822620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1180799757672822620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1180799757672822620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/11/worlds-collide.html' title='Worlds Collide'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5630036136580439001</id><published>2007-11-04T12:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T12:48:55.345+01:00</updated><title type='text'>NFL Care Bear, not a dream, just needed this image online for something</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/Ry2xneKMoRI/AAAAAAAAAAY/6uAaXhR7BnI/s1600-h/VampNFL.GIF"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128950842313711890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/Ry2xneKMoRI/AAAAAAAAAAY/6uAaXhR7BnI/s320/VampNFL.GIF" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5630036136580439001?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5630036136580439001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5630036136580439001' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5630036136580439001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5630036136580439001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/11/nfl-care-bear-not-dream-just-needed.html' title='NFL Care Bear, not a dream, just needed this image online for something'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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/_E_Cb7sdyG3U/Ry2xneKMoRI/AAAAAAAAAAY/6uAaXhR7BnI/s72-c/VampNFL.GIF' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7462939490821445658.post-6683094559770561516</id><published>2007-10-09T18:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T18:16:19.781+02:00</updated><title type='text'>mmmmm, baked potatoes!!!</title><content type='html'>I dreamed I was eating a Red Lobster baked potato.  It was SOOOOOO good.  Lots of butter, and the skin really done, with one ton of salt on it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a random dream about driving around in a car with Greg G and Christy B going to a museum, we called it the Guggenheim, but it wasn't.  It was in Houston.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm still wishing I had that baked potato.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6683094559770561516?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6683094559770561516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6683094559770561516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6683094559770561516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6683094559770561516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/10/mmmmm-baked-potatoes.html' title='mmmmm, baked potatoes!!!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2228520489803024261</id><published>2007-09-30T22:18:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T22:23:10.771+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's go Krogering...</title><content type='html'>So, in my dream we are going to Kroger.  A lady drives by and someone says, "Hey, that's Tonya DeWitt!"  and I say, "no, she would be shopping at the family store, Stanton's." (I'm pretty sure they aren't related IRL, but each had a family owned business in Alvin, so...maybe that's it?)  She parked and got out, and it was actually Kelly Kingston.  I asked Bill, Linda and SB, no one knows who KK is.  I'm telling you, though, we went to high school with her.  She had curlyish brown hair, freckles I think, and wore a lot of matching beads with her shirts.  ANYWAY, she got out of the car, and was wearing her shirt backwards.  It was a Tshirt and had Kroger on the shoulderblade (should have been over the front pocket) and sponsor names on the front (should have been on the back).  She explained that she was working there, having lost her job recently (don't remember what that was) and she was thankful to have the job.  Besides, it's fun, I'm always running into people! &lt;br /&gt;Woke up thinking...hhhmmm, interesting...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2228520489803024261?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2228520489803024261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2228520489803024261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2228520489803024261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2228520489803024261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/09/lets-go-krogering.html' title='Let&apos;s go Krogering...'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-954610782265698082</id><published>2007-09-24T18:59:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T19:02:18.341+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday night</title><content type='html'>I was living with Beth (friend from jr hi) and our apt was big.  Seems like I have dreamed this apt before.  I was doing some kind of job where I came home in the middle of the night.  I remember I had to walk home this night and that wasn't normal but I wasn't afraid.  When I got there I climbed up to the balcony and over the edge to go in the patio door.  I didn't want to wake Beth.  (??)  Then I snuggled down in the bed.  I remember the covers being so heavy and they smelled JUST LIKE Beth's comforter when I would spend the night 25 yrs ago.  That is so crazy to me that I still remember that. &lt;br /&gt;There was more to this that I remembered when I woke up, but it escapes me now.  More tomorrow....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-954610782265698082?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/954610782265698082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=954610782265698082' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/954610782265698082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/954610782265698082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/09/sunday-night.html' title='Sunday night'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8446101352943921833</id><published>2007-09-23T10:11:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T10:15:12.260+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Math and calendars!</title><content type='html'>It was all very vague and fuzzy, but I dreamed about math, money and schedules.  Trying to figure out how many more months we'll be here, how long it will take me to accumulate enough days off to go all the places we want to go, how much $ would it take to fly everyone over here that I want to come, how much is that each month, etc.&lt;br /&gt;Then, the calendar side of it was me trying to figure out how I was going to get to my brand new job Oct 3, and go to a Spouse Craft night that night, should we do it at the USO, will we get that much participation, when is B Co doing the pie in the face that I have said I will participate in, etc, etc, etc.&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly I woke up relaxed, not reeling with that freaky need I have to make a list, plan it out, schedule it all.  Maybe I worked it all out in my sleep! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8446101352943921833?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8446101352943921833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8446101352943921833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8446101352943921833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8446101352943921833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/09/math-and-calendars.html' title='Math and calendars!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2914094736091639742</id><published>2007-09-22T18:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T18:39:01.206+02:00</updated><title type='text'>'s been a while</title><content type='html'>I just read through a bunch of old dream posts.  They use to be really good.  I want to revive this blog, and have to start with a sad little tidbit from last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I remember is decorating the B&amp;amp;B where I was working (it wasn't ours, I was just working there) for Christmas.  It was very homey and comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a separate dream where I still had Lil T and he was so small and wearing the grey pjs with the cars on them.  They were so soft.  He had a friend over spending the night, and I kept calling him Joslin.  I can only assume that came from the CG blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to post here more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2914094736091639742?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2914094736091639742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2914094736091639742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2914094736091639742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2914094736091639742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/09/s-been-while.html' title='&apos;s been a while'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-9219331514817290811</id><published>2007-08-01T17:45:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T17:52:37.123+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Temper, temper</title><content type='html'>Woke up mad, again!  But this time I had been shopping with some friends and someone stole all our wallets!  I was trying to call the credit card company to report it, and couldn't get the phone to go through.  The sales person kept telling me "dial 5-8-4-seveneuro."  7 Euro?  How do you dial 7 euro????  I was just getting more and more irritated.  Then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-9219331514817290811?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/9219331514817290811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=9219331514817290811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9219331514817290811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9219331514817290811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/08/temper-temper.html' title='Temper, temper'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2863270082882253673</id><published>2007-07-31T20:32:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T20:33:08.326+02:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a while, and now I'm mad!</title><content type='html'>At my brother! Sorry DW! We were at some family gathering, and people started leaving to go to their respective homes. SB and I were going to the beach for the weekend (I blame the recent beach getaway of other family members for this) and I asked DW if he had to work the next day. He said REAL MEAN LIKE, "Yes, HEA-THERRR! Or why would I be going there?!?!?!" Then I woke up. I told SB about it and he said, "he didn't really say that to you or say your name 'mean'. Just like I didn't eat your burrito!" and I'll try to get better. I know I've said that before. But I am still dreaming...just not so good about reporting in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2863270082882253673?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2863270082882253673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2863270082882253673' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2863270082882253673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2863270082882253673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/07/its-been-while-and-now-im-mad.html' title='It&apos;s been a while, and now I&apos;m mad!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2583801763040037117</id><published>2007-07-20T07:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T07:37:49.198+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepless in Burstadt</title><content type='html'>No dream last night.  Why?  because NO SLEEP!  I don't know what the deal was, but I couldn't fall asleep!  It was a little on the warm side, there were people outside being loud in the street, lots of flopping around trying to get comfortable, etc.  So I'm early to work today, and will leave early to go home.  I think I may crash by about 3pm anyway.  If not, I can get a jump on some house/yard work! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to post a dream over the weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2583801763040037117?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2583801763040037117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2583801763040037117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2583801763040037117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2583801763040037117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/07/sleepless-in-burstadt.html' title='Sleepless in Burstadt'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-4882481894796354969</id><published>2007-07-19T09:14:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T09:17:07.446+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>Last night was a jumble of images.  I woke up trying hard to remember, but since I snoozed 3 times, I was not very successful.  What I do remember is my grandmother on my dad's side.  She was there, telling it like it is as always.  And lil T was there, so it was past and present mixed.  Well, both past, but different eras. &lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the vagueness.  argh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-4882481894796354969?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4882481894796354969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=4882481894796354969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4882481894796354969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4882481894796354969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/07/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7617015574682044514</id><published>2007-07-18T12:30:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T12:35:07.806+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgive me.  It's been a while.</title><content type='html'>There have been dreams here and there, but I haven't been posting them.  A couple of funny things that have happened over the past few weeks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While staying at the B parent's house, I guess I was a little confused in the night.  I got up and walked around the bed to the corner (furthest from the door).  SB said "what are you doing?"  I said "trying to find the bathroom!"  That made me wake up enough to realize I was no where near the door, so I turned around and went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night we got home from the trip, we both collapsed.  After I was asleep, I guess it was vital that I know the time.  I asked SB, "what time is it?"  He ignored me because he knew I was asleep.  I repeated the question twice more, him saying, "what? why?" after the first time.  Then he looked at his watch, told me "12:30" I said, "hhmmm."  And I remember none of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dreamed that I had forgotten to take my lady pills and was trying to take the first 7 all at once.  AND I was chewing them up!  blek!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7617015574682044514?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7617015574682044514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7617015574682044514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7617015574682044514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7617015574682044514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/07/forgive-me-its-been-while.html' title='Forgive me.  It&apos;s been a while.'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-737538503254666080</id><published>2007-06-26T11:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T11:38:08.264+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Where ARE YOU???</title><content type='html'>We had a special dinner planned out with two couples from my battalion, but we weren't in the Army anymore.  The couples now lived in our subdivision.  As did KK and KJ and families.  Husband didn't come home from work until 630 and we were suppose to be there at 6.  He thought he could get away with not going (said he thought it was earlier, and he'd have stayed later if he knew he still had to go).  I was supermad, went over to KK or KJs I don't know who but they lived next door to each other, so they were together anyway.  They were going to Greece on vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband said this morning he was tired of getting in trouble for "dream Stephen".  hahahaha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-737538503254666080?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/737538503254666080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=737538503254666080' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/737538503254666080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/737538503254666080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/where-are-you.html' title='Where ARE YOU???'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7657161914178142129</id><published>2007-06-26T11:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T11:33:22.460+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>K, I got the notebook back by the bed, but then didn't post for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I dreamed a short/sweet little dream in which I went to visit lil T and he told me that his "first mommy couldn't take care of [him], but his always mommy does!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I went to a meeting to plan a big FRG party.  It was super involved and there was so much to do!  I talked to our advisor, and we were concerned about who would do what and when.  I'm leaving and she's leaving for vacation, etc.  OH, (just deciphered notes) some beans were spilled in her SUV, and I did it.  I didn't realize it until after a little boy had already gotten a spanking for it, and I felt horrible.  Weirdest part...JS (from dreams months ago, remeber?  Amanda's brother?) He kept calling me "Boobs".  This is a direct result (I believe) of an episode of The Office.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7657161914178142129?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7657161914178142129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7657161914178142129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7657161914178142129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7657161914178142129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6868773908493219029</id><published>2007-06-23T10:02:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T10:08:44.009+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Details...SHOOT!</title><content type='html'>It's all so fuzzy now.&lt;br /&gt;There was a basketball game.  I was the only girl, I think it was my fantasy football league guys playing.  Some other girls wanted to join in and I wasn't having it.  I was wearing an orange top and yellow shorts with orange Crocs (which I do not own).  I was searching everywhere for yellow socks. &lt;br /&gt;ARGH.  that makes me mad!  There was so much more.  Now that I have been up a couple hours, eaten breakfast and watched International Househunters, it's all gone. :-(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6868773908493219029?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6868773908493219029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6868773908493219029' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6868773908493219029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6868773908493219029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/detailsshoot.html' title='Details...SHOOT!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-9078235660940728958</id><published>2007-06-21T08:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T09:00:17.443+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Neglect</title><content type='html'>I have been neglecting the dream blog. :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There  have been dream fragments going on.  Even on the horrific bus ride to Venice, I must have slept because I dreamed something...can't recall what it was now.  Night before last I woke myself up early in the morning because in dreamland I was heating up hot chocolate in the microwave, and when I went to take it out, instead of just removing the cup, I tried to take out the whole turntable thing with the cup on it.  It started to slide off and I woke up with a jolt trying to catch it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-9078235660940728958?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/9078235660940728958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=9078235660940728958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9078235660940728958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9078235660940728958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/neglect.html' title='Neglect'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-1053976825712883831</id><published>2007-06-13T12:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T12:25:52.825+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Husband</title><content type='html'>I woke up mad at him again.  Well, he was driving REALLY fast,  and the road was wet.  I kept telling him to slow down and he would just laugh and speed up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up I told him and he said, "sorry, I didn't mean to."  hahahahaha!  I guess he thought that was easier than, "I DIDN'T DO IT!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1053976825712883831?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1053976825712883831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1053976825712883831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1053976825712883831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1053976825712883831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/poor-husband.html' title='Poor Husband'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-1918910732077155870</id><published>2007-06-12T09:54:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T09:58:36.265+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Over the weekend</title><content type='html'>There was one night over the weekend that I was completely robbed of all dreaming because a GIANT thunder woke me up.  The kind of "woke me up" where you literally jump.  Kind of like when you are ALMOST asleep and jump!  like you were falling off the bed or something.  Then there were strobe lights of lightening, and I had to go to the bathroom, just not conducive to dreaming and remembering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I had a dream about Stacey one night.  Well, it wasn't really about her.  A group of people were at a Big Daddy's type sports bar place and they were selling 80's style jackets (satiny with the metal snaps and band around the waist and wrists)  Embroidered on the jacket was a picture of the regulars.  There was Stacey right in the middle with a halo over her head.  Completely cheezy, but it was a nice dream to have.  Dreaming of days gone by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday night...I can't remember.  I know there was one, but....??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1918910732077155870?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1918910732077155870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1918910732077155870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1918910732077155870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1918910732077155870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/over-weekend.html' title='Over the weekend'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5850708107203904795</id><published>2007-06-09T11:11:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T11:26:53.608+02:00</updated><title type='text'>All over the place</title><content type='html'>I don't even know where to start.  At one point, a group of spouses was wanting to take a trip to Europa Park.  For some crazy reason, we went to the mall (just down the street from post) to get the tickets.  I went one way with a couple people and Paulette, a lady that volunteers at ACS that did the Instructor Training for AFTB with me went another way to get the tickets.  When we met back up she had the tickets but they cost over $700!  For 7 of us!  So, we were kicking ourselves for not thinking of going to the USO to get them discounted.  She asks if she can return them and they will do it, but she will have to wait to get a check in the mail for the service fees which were about $60.  So she returned them and then we went to the USO to get them. &lt;br /&gt;Then, I was at the Pflugerville house.  Dude, Lil T and I were playing in the living room, and I was talking about how Dude was going to live with the Bdk family.  I told Lil T that he needed to pick up all his Star Wars lego blocks and when I came back in from putting Dude in the truck, T had put all the toys in big plastic bins in the back yard.  There were hundreds of them.  I told Nikki I would take a picture and bring it to her when I brought the dog.  When I tried to take it, though, the camera wasn't cooperating.  I hooked it up to the computer to see what was on it, and it started a slideshow of random photos.  They kept getting lines in them and looking like the TV with bad reception.  Then I realized I had hooked an old camera with FILM in it instead of a digital one to the computer.  I have no idea what that was all about.&lt;br /&gt;Then something happened at Mimi and Papa's house on Sam Hou.  I just remember being there, no details.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5850708107203904795?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5850708107203904795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5850708107203904795' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5850708107203904795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5850708107203904795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/all-over-place.html' title='All over the place'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-4202644181329944529</id><published>2007-06-08T16:38:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T16:44:54.283+02:00</updated><title type='text'>No Relation</title><content type='html'>I was at some battalion function, and CPT L was there.  (not my maiden name, a real life captain in our bn) He had a clipboard and was apparently inprocessing.  The top page on the clipboard said: CPT L, stove/oven, previous owner P&amp;D (my aunt and uncle).  I said to him, "HEY, how did you get that stove?" and he explained that someone in HIS family gave it to him.  After some family tree climbing, we concluded that he was on D's side, but not directly.  Something about Aunt Jo and her husband Wylie.  This was a very odd dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had another dream, actually it was before this one.  I was sneaking around Lil T's new house, his mom knew I was there, but we were not wanting him to see me until the end of the day or something.  He saw me through the window and started screaming in a horrible scared tone and crying and saying Moooooooommyyyyyy!!!  We were both shocked at his reaction and I woke up with my chest hurting and heavy.  My first thought: I think my heart just shattered.  Still 1/2 asleep I envisioned a christmas ornament ball being dropped to a tile floor and shattering.  This dream sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I got ok, and went back to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-4202644181329944529?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4202644181329944529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=4202644181329944529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4202644181329944529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/4202644181329944529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-relation.html' title='No Relation'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6520419627871935223</id><published>2007-06-06T14:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T14:25:28.716+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream feelings</title><content type='html'>I woke up feeling horrible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start from the beginning...or rather where we always start, somewhere in the middle.  Stephen and I were having a second wedding because the pictures and/or video were messed up from the first one.  I was trying to fix my hair, but every time I curled my bangs they stood straight out from my head.  Christy was trying to help me fix them.  Kathy was managing her children's hair.  They ALL had the super curly style, like Felicity.  Then I was getting upset because some people showed up to have a party at our venue (not the same place we had our wedding) and they were throwing glass bottles on the dance floor and then sliding across the glass. &lt;br /&gt;I went over to where my brother and Allen C were talking and said something to them about the situation and they started making fun of the *hideous* striped tuxes I had chosen for the men in the wedding party, and my brother said something and I told him "shut up, I hate you."  as I walked away from them I woke up and I felt awful and had a stomach ache.  :-(  Sorry Wade.  I really love you!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6520419627871935223?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6520419627871935223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6520419627871935223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6520419627871935223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6520419627871935223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/dream-feelings.html' title='Dream feelings'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-599653539150239498</id><published>2007-06-04T15:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T15:36:30.208+02:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY would you DO that??</title><content type='html'>So, I'm eating my burrito and I kindly ask SB if he would like a bite.  He says yes, takes it, takes a bite, gives a few other people a bite, and then FINISHES MY BURRITO!  I woke up mad and realized I was still a little irritated hours later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-599653539150239498?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/599653539150239498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=599653539150239498' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/599653539150239498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/599653539150239498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/why-would-you-do-that.html' title='WHY would you DO that??'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-1255485099600271476</id><published>2007-06-02T09:30:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T09:41:17.258+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in dreamland</title><content type='html'>Early this morning there was a ball/prom/reunion going on!  It was outside, maybe on Tayor Barracks grounds (Taylor is the installation where I work).  I remember I kept saying how cool it was that we had the reunion in Germany! &lt;br /&gt;The other things that really stood out...Rebecca Guyton was there.  I know I've tried not to use last names, but I don't know if anyone else knew/remembered her, and I didn't want to try to do some figure out the name game.  She was a very sweet girl at AHS.  I didn't have all our friends get together for a group picture by the photographer.  I was thinking the snapshots he was taking would be good, but they weren't, and I didn't take any pictures.  I was furious.  Also, a blond girl whose name I can't remember who had been on the gymnastics team was there and she had a home movie of a conversation she had with a judge at one of the competitions, and all these years later, they were awarded the team competition medal for that year because there was some scandal with the way it had been judged at the time.&lt;br /&gt;There were a couple other bits and pieces, but I can't recall them now.  I definitely dream more when I am sleeping off and on.  The Burstadter Stadfest was in FULL SWING last night and into this morning.  I think we are going tonight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1255485099600271476?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1255485099600271476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1255485099600271476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1255485099600271476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1255485099600271476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/06/back-in-dreamland.html' title='Back in dreamland'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5847430282343747257</id><published>2007-05-31T10:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T10:32:49.977+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Closed Door Policy</title><content type='html'>Well, since it is noontime bright at 5something AM, we have started sleeping with the blinds all the way closed and the door closed.  This does not allow for any light to come in the room.  Apparently this has caused my dream memory to be not-so-sharp.  Instead of spending an hour or two in that between sleep and wake, I sleep soundly until Stephen announces the time and I am forced to get into the shower.  The upside is that I am getting more real sleep!  The downside is that I haven't had a dream to post for the last two days.  I wake up with only snapshots of what I dreamed.&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned...we'll see if this is going to be long term...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5847430282343747257?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5847430282343747257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5847430282343747257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5847430282343747257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5847430282343747257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/closed-door-policy.html' title='Closed Door Policy'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6916949080419289126</id><published>2007-05-29T13:08:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T13:12:05.234+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Quite a bit of trouble sleeping last night.  I just couldn't seem to fall asleep.  Apparently I eventually did, though.  I know I did because I dreamed that I went to pick up Beth at her house to go to school and her parents had built a whole house underground.  It was like a storm shelter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6916949080419289126?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6916949080419289126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6916949080419289126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6916949080419289126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6916949080419289126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/quite-bit-of-trouble-sleeping-last.html' title=''/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2829147403254835349</id><published>2007-05-27T14:53:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T15:06:30.995+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We went to a dinner, maybe the farewell for the General and his Mrs.  Everyone was in civilian clothes.  SGT E (who went to dinner with us when we went with the Women's History Month speaker) had her hair down and it looked so pretty.  Then, somehow we were at a grocery store, and it was about the size of our living room.  Maybe it was more of a produce market.  Anway, we ran into Elizabeth Shue.  They were calling her Sgt Major Shue.  And then a couple of people were joking with her and calling her Sgt Major giggly.  Something about the way she was laughing at the last change of command. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I went down the hall to find something and opened the wrong door.  To find Rebecca babysitting a room full of kids.  She had them all sitting at tables and there was a huge chart with their names, check marks for behavior and how much was owed for their keep.  On the dry erase board (which was just like there would normally be a chalkboard in a classroom) it said, "Rebecca M. is affordable." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO idea what that means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night before last, we were traveling around somewhere and I went out alone, got lost and accepted a ride from an elderly couple who use to live in the states.  They got me even more lost and I was wandering around asking people if they knew where the Holiday France was.  Then I got back to the hotel, Stephen and I went to the roof of the building and were looking out on the city when the whole building started to shake.  An elephant was running down the street with the head thing with the tassles on it, like he escaped from the circus or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2829147403254835349?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2829147403254835349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2829147403254835349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2829147403254835349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2829147403254835349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/we-went-to-dinner-maybe-farewell-for.html' title=''/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3072389456377133287</id><published>2007-05-25T10:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-25T10:19:41.100+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A bus, football and the media</title><content type='html'>Stephen and I and a bunch of other people were on a bus.  It was a tour bus type (like the one we'll take to Venice in June) and Chris, the victim advocate for Garrison was the driver.  (I had lunch with him yesterday, maybe that's why he was in there)  We were doing some football playing event where we had to have these shirts.  They were grey tshirts and had our position and the logo of a team and the number of the person who played that position on that team on the front and then our names on the back.  Mine had the Green Bay G on the front with QB and the #4.  So clearly I was the quarterback ala Favre of the Packers.&lt;br /&gt;Then, we were at some assembly and the media people there were setting up and knocked over a large wooden wall divider thing nearly missing several people. (this happened yesterday at the "Safety Showdown" with the AFN guy knocking over his tripod and almost hitting a girl). &lt;br /&gt;Then we were getting back on the buses, and I stepped on the wrong one and realized they were taking showers on their bus.  I got back on ours and announced that it didn't matter to me if we were a little dirty, they made their bus all hot and sticky with all that showering!  (It was pretty warm and sticky everywhere yesterday).&lt;br /&gt;So, see?  Sometimes there IS some rhyme and reason to help explain the craziness that are my daily dreams. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3072389456377133287?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3072389456377133287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3072389456377133287' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3072389456377133287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3072389456377133287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/bus-football-and-media.html' title='A bus, football and the media'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3318539004234148683</id><published>2007-05-22T09:37:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T09:50:33.491+02:00</updated><title type='text'>VOY</title><content type='html'>The pictures on the other blog of me with General Via and his wife, and LTC Fletcher are from the Volunteer of the Year Ceremony.  All volunteers in the community are recognized.  People call it the VOY.  Not like Vee, Oh, Why.  But voy, like it is a word. &lt;br /&gt;So last night I'm dreaming that I keep telling Stephen, we're going to the voy!  But I mean something else and he can't figure it out.  I don't know what his problem is, but I refuse to tell him what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;Then, Kabbage and I are riding to the high school from Lee on a bicycle.  I'm riding it, she's on the handlebars!  We get there for whatever we are doing there, and I whip out my chapstick (that I got from MWR last week, it has a world globe lid) and she borrows it.  But when she tries to use it, I guess it had melted so it squishes all over everywhere and we have to find tissues to clean it up.  Then, it's Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3318539004234148683?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3318539004234148683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3318539004234148683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3318539004234148683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3318539004234148683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/voy.html' title='VOY'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3981343395791714728</id><published>2007-05-21T14:43:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T14:45:06.234+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Notebook by the bed</title><content type='html'>I need to put the notebook back beside the bed and write immediately upon waking.  I had several dreams last night and the night before that I just cannot remember now, but I remembered them when I first woke up.  In one I lived in a duplex-like house with Beth W and some of her other family members.  The ones who didn't live there were there visiting because there was some big wedding or graduation going on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3981343395791714728?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3981343395791714728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3981343395791714728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3981343395791714728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3981343395791714728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/notebook-by-bed.html' title='Notebook by the bed'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-7845321022609481930</id><published>2007-05-19T21:49:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T21:53:01.938+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling down on the job.</title><content type='html'>Well, in last night's weird dream...Stephen was about 70 yrs old, and he was mad at me because he came home from the field (still in the Army at 70???) and he was angry with me because I had "made some mistakes, HEA-THER!"  I was all, "what's wrong??"  He said I had let him run out of dr pepper and now he's back from a week in the field and what does he find?  NO DP!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-7845321022609481930?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7845321022609481930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=7845321022609481930' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7845321022609481930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/7845321022609481930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/falling-down-on-job.html' title='Falling down on the job.'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3623669228407383014</id><published>2007-05-17T09:11:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T09:33:44.825+02:00</updated><title type='text'>No Appropriate Title</title><content type='html'>I don't even know where to start.  CPT B (female soldier) and I were trying to push a giant truck (like the one Dreamz got from Yau Man on Survivor) out of the mud.  It ran us over, but we were between the wheels so we weren't hurt.  We were, however, very angry that all the soldiers were just standing around not asking if we were okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I'm working somewhere just off the beach (Carribean looking water, not Galveston brown) and someone takes me for a drive in a giant silver SUV.  We do a spin and end up in the ocean, we are sinking and all I can see is the blue water.  Then somehow we drive out and we're going to be okay.  My boss had been looking on my computer while I was gone, and when I got back said she was looking for the Financial Reports.  I didn't do any.  She was not mad, but said I would not be getting paid for the hours I should have been doing that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was some other stuff, but I can't remember what it was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3623669228407383014?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3623669228407383014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3623669228407383014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3623669228407383014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3623669228407383014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/no-appropriate-title.html' title='No Appropriate Title'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2142619254463276081</id><published>2007-05-16T09:45:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T09:59:05.479+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Car</title><content type='html'>I'm pulling into the parking garage (at CWA, but it isn't CWA, I don't know where it is) My car stalls, so I just get out and push it into the space.  I don't know how it was running to begin with because now I look at it and it is like a go-cart, the metal frame type, but no motor whatsoever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I'm naked.  KC and family come to pick me up and take me to Tam's house, I go to sleep.  When I wake up there are clothes by the bed.  I put them on and go into the living room where I see pictures of the KC family all dressed up in fancy clothes, girls with hair all curled and up and boys with ties and dress shoes, etc.  I say, "what's this?"  They were pictures from the wedding that had just taken place (while I was asleep) in their backyard.  (I don't know who was getting married)  I asked why they came to pick me up when they had this important event to attend.  KC told me "because you were in trouble, car broken and naked.  We wouldn't just leave you there!"  The kids were looking at me like they had a million questions, and were concerned.  Kind of like how they were looking at me at the St D Hosp!  Seems like I was kind of messed up in the head too when they came to get me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the garage and my Uncle Jack (never dreamed about him before!) had built me a car, or rather equipped the one I had with a motor.  It was all white.  The car, the motor, the tires, all of it.  It was driveable, but when you stopped you had to take the flywheel off or it would get chewed up.  ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also a brief time in the middle of all this somewhere where I was working for Ron.  It was nice to see him again.  I wish I could remember that part of the dream, because I know there was something significant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2142619254463276081?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2142619254463276081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2142619254463276081' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2142619254463276081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2142619254463276081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/crazy-car.html' title='Crazy Car'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-9191952182422260284</id><published>2007-05-15T09:44:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T10:00:55.862+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bits and Pieces</title><content type='html'>There was snow, many feet of it.  We wanted to watch the football game on a huge outdoor screen.  So someone turned the TV up really loud so the vibrations of the sound would shake the snow free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked down the street to a friend's house (someone I don't know in my real life) and colored my hair with her and another neighbor.  I think this might have been in Grant Circle (where all the officers/senior enlisted live)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was much dinner party planning going on.  "Ok, this night we'll have these people over, and this night these people, etc" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was collecting (by donation and super sale purchases) wedding dresses to have on hand for rental at the wedding bed and breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got upset because I put a veil in the dryer and when I was closing the door, it scraped some branches and broke them off into the dryer.  The veil came out with sticks all tangled in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The alarm went off.  That was in real life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-9191952182422260284?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/9191952182422260284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=9191952182422260284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9191952182422260284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9191952182422260284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/bits-and-pieces.html' title='Bits and Pieces'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-1299721737556386224</id><published>2007-05-14T21:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T22:00:30.887+02:00</updated><title type='text'>real life in a dream</title><content type='html'>I dreamed that my friend Adrienne from 2nd Sig hit her head on a window shade (just like I did the other day) except that she got a gash and had to have 8 stiches and it was all black and blue!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was another one last night, but it's been too long now for me to remember.  It's time to go to sleep now, and dream another dream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen dreamed I was in Greas das Musical!  I was SANDY!!!  :)  There was a conflict, he was suppose to be teaching a class and wasn't going to be able to make it to the show!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1299721737556386224?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1299721737556386224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1299721737556386224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1299721737556386224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1299721737556386224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/real-life-in-dream.html' title='real life in a dream'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5868988491313881279</id><published>2007-05-13T14:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T14:36:20.913+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Stephen had a loose tooth.  Any by loose, I mean he kept being gross and wiggling it with his tongue!  I told him to go to the dentist and he said he couldn't get in for an appt on post.  (this is truly a problem right now, mostly for civilians and family members because of so many deploying and redeploying soldiers, they have priority). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Separate dream: I went out to eat with sh, tam and chr, their dhs and SB.  Then we were suppose to go to a show afterwards, but everyone kept backing out.  So I went by myself, and it was horrible.  It was like the AMC (!!), but outside, and also resembled the drive in theater from Grease (and from the Outsiders).  there was the music show going on, and then people were "dancing" but it was more like they were being vulgar and gross!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to leave, but we (I had now joined with Bets) were looking for Rayne (old neighbor of P&amp;Ds in SB).  We found someone who said their name was Heather also, but they were somehow affiliated with Rayne, so we rode the bus to the bathrooms and then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FA-REAKY!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5868988491313881279?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5868988491313881279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5868988491313881279' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5868988491313881279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5868988491313881279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/stephen-had-loose-tooth.html' title=''/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-9076433367516826842</id><published>2007-05-11T16:08:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T16:14:18.702+02:00</updated><title type='text'>BUT...It's WALMART!</title><content type='html'>Stephen and I went to Wal-mart to purchase our lawn furniture, barbeque pit, outdoor party stuff.  We got our items to the counter and told them we wanted to purchase them with credit.  Yes, we were applying for credit.  After the person ran some numbers through the computer a couple of times and then went to "confer with a colleague", she came back to advise us that the lowest amount of credit to be extended was $300, but we didn't qualify.  WHAT?  But it's WAL-MART!!!  She still said no.  So we helped the employees who were getting ready to go to prom get dressed and on their way.  There was a punky little skater girl that was wearing a pink tux.  I helped her with her cumberbun (sp?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-9076433367516826842?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/9076433367516826842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=9076433367516826842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9076433367516826842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/9076433367516826842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/butits-walmart.html' title='BUT...It&apos;s WALMART!'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-1276604613646620928</id><published>2007-05-10T08:59:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T09:05:17.493+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Vague</title><content type='html'>There was a pool.  People were swimming, I was not.  I didn't bring my suit, felt too fat to wear a suit and I didn't know the people.  After the swimming, somehow my hair was wet even though I didn't swim (?)  I put a hat on and went to work (at some place I have never worked before) I went to the office on the next floor down because no one had a hair dryer or brush in our office.  My hair was dry now, but all mashed down from the hat.  I tried to revive it a bit with the dryer, but my friend(don't know this person)'s boss made me leave, something about it being unsanitary to "do hair" at the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm somewhere with a 3 or 4 yr old KK and a 9 or 10 yr old KJ.  I asked KK, "who is my girl?"  She said, "Kimmerly".  I said "who else?"  She said "kiki".  I said "who else?"  and she said, "stop asking me stupid baby questions!" Then she got mad because I made her give me my wedding ring back.  I looked at it, and she had "let" a diamond fall out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-1276604613646620928?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1276604613646620928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=1276604613646620928' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1276604613646620928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/1276604613646620928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/vague.html' title='Vague'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8007325604435479221</id><published>2007-05-09T13:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T13:19:47.971+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Making up for yesterday's post...</title><content type='html'>I'm in the bed, in a hotel by the beach.  KC's #4 comes in sleepy and having had an accident.  I get him changed and walk him back to his room.  Instead of the KC family room, I walk into the CGB family's room.  Those 3 are all in bed in a row, #1's feet sticking out because he is too long for the bed.  We continue to the next room and I get KC's #4 back in bed accidentally rousing #2 from sleep.  She says, "the room smells like a fragrant bouquet." As I turn to leave, I look through the open curtains to see Frank, from my Fantasy Football League in what looks like a heated discussion with some mob type characters.  Frank also looks like a mob type character (in real life).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back to my room and return to bed.  I wonder briefly where my dh has gone but know he'll be back, so I just snuggle into the covers, listening to the wind and waves through the open patio door.  It's a little too windy, so I close the door.  Return to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, everyone has gathered on the beach at concrete tables/benches.  I see on one of the tables a book that looks just like one I had gotten and couldn't find.  I snatch it and go to KC and CGB asking how it got there, who had it, etc.  They are confused as to why I am so upset.  I tell them how I had gotten this book for VJ and it was a present for her graduation, but then I  couldn't find it.  But the one I got was blank, it was for her to add pictures and stories and keepsakes.  This one was full of pictures and well wishes.  Turns out, ST (the wife of the commander who just left who has been instrumental in getting the FRSAs up to speed here in real life) gave that book to VJ and it isn't the one I had gotten for her.  I take it back and apologize for my behavior explaining what I thought happened.  We talk a second, it is awkward.  On the table beside the book was a book like you look through when you open a new checking account to choose check designs, from Deluxe or Harland check printers. (??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then here comes DWL wearing some weird get up of jeans with long shorts over them.  He says it is the newest thing, and sure enough, people all start walking by wearing jeans with shorts over them.  He says, SEE??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8007325604435479221?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8007325604435479221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8007325604435479221' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8007325604435479221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8007325604435479221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/making-up-for-yesterdays-post.html' title='Making up for yesterday&apos;s post...'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-87274801412461400</id><published>2007-05-08T13:30:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T13:31:04.015+02:00</updated><title type='text'>8 MAY 2007</title><content type='html'>Sorry to disappoint.  No recollection.  I know there was a dream.  I remembered it the first time I woke up.  But after 5 snoozes...it was gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-87274801412461400?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/87274801412461400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=87274801412461400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/87274801412461400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/87274801412461400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/8-may-2007.html' title='8 MAY 2007'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-2529436917337164795</id><published>2007-05-07T13:18:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T13:22:39.290+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I said...</title><content type='html'>LUKE AND LAURA!  I cannot believe that didn't get even one comment.  I remember those summer days of watching General Hospital while Kabbage laid in the sun in the backyard and Wade and I tried to "block her sun" making hand shadows over a leg or whatever!  and singing Gen-er-al Hos-PITAAAAL!!! (and if I was in the valley, watching in the back room until I got peer pressured into switching to Guiding Light!)&lt;br /&gt;anyway, plenty of dreaming over the weekend, but I can't recall now, and didn't post over the weekend because...well...Saturday I was being lazy, and Sunay Stephen was on the computer most of the day doing a paper. &lt;br /&gt;I'll get back to it tonight...stay tuned tomorrow for Monday 7 May 2007 dream!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-2529436917337164795?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2529436917337164795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=2529436917337164795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2529436917337164795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/2529436917337164795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-said.html' title='I said...'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6399766975078577572</id><published>2007-05-04T08:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T09:01:05.181+02:00</updated><title type='text'>3 MAY 2007</title><content type='html'>So so random...&lt;br /&gt;ok, I work in an office with Michael Scott (the Office) and he is trying to implement a new system with time cards and punching a time clock.  He can't figure out how to set the clock to punch in-out for lunch-back from lunch-out on one line.  So we are working on the time clock and discussing people's hours.  I guess I'm like the Pam.  Then, this lady is all getting in our conversation saying that people should bring a lunch, it would be more cost effective for the company if they did so, and ate at their desks while working.  She is like Angela but looks like that new girl Karen.  THEN, I'm telling Michael that they have to be given a lunch and two 15 minute breaks so now I'm being HR like Toby, but I notice I am only wearing a men's button up shirt and underpants!  (I have NO idea what that's about).  People are trying to look in the window, so I open the door to tell them to go away, that we are having a meeting.  And outside the door there is an exercise class going on, and Jim is pretending to be helping out with it (he was the one we saw looking in the window) in his work attire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point I am out to eat at a restaurant at night with my mom and Stephen and I'm trying to tell them to hurry up and eat because my bike is in the back of the truck and someone might steal it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And every time I woke up I was singing "Shot through the Heart" or "Wanted: Dead or Alive"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have a vague memory of ladeling gallons of soup into bowls and topping them with shredded cheese for the guests at the Signal Ball!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I think about the dreams:&lt;br /&gt;The Office-because we forgot to watch the Office last night, we were watching American Idol OR because we watched 4 episodes we got on dvd from Shauna night before last!&lt;br /&gt;The bike-because Stephen just put my new bike seat on my bike!&lt;br /&gt;The songs-from American Idol.&lt;br /&gt;The soup-I am off to Heidelberg to decorate for the ball!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6399766975078577572?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6399766975078577572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6399766975078577572' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6399766975078577572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6399766975078577572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/3-may-2007.html' title='3 MAY 2007'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-6617177857145701089</id><published>2007-05-03T08:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T16:06:22.019+02:00</updated><title type='text'>2 MAY 2007</title><content type='html'>hhhmmm, something about the family reunion. I think someone didn't want to go because they had a party to go to. We were upset because we really wanted everyone to be there. VERY limited memory of last night's dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are such stuff As dreams are made on and our little life Is rounded with a sleep..."&lt;br /&gt;--From The Tempest (IV, i, 156-157)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-6617177857145701089?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6617177857145701089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=6617177857145701089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6617177857145701089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/6617177857145701089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/2-may-2007.html' title='2 MAY 2007'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-8452678813939531353</id><published>2007-05-02T13:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T14:14:29.079+02:00</updated><title type='text'>1 MAY</title><content type='html'>I remembered more of this when I first woke up, but here is what is left...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone remember in the early 80s when Luke and Laura on General Hospital got locked in the mall or dept store overnight? Well, I always thought it would be so cool. ANYWAY, in my dream, there was a dance contest (ala Dancing with the Stars) and Stephen and I went to watch it. It was at night, in a mall and people were dancing all around the mannequins and displays. All the people were sitting on the floor watching. And I'm pretty sure we had all snuck into the mall to hold this big event!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aside: Luke and Laura (I just looked at this, JUST like in the dream)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/or3/sweetpea/Wyndhams1.mpg"&gt;http://www.angelfire.com/or3/sweetpea/Wyndhams1.mpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/or3/superscoop2001/Wyndhams2.mpg"&gt;http://www.angelfire.com/or3/superscoop2001/Wyndhams2.mpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/or3/muffmarie/Wyndhams3.mpg"&gt;http://www.angelfire.com/or3/muffmarie/Wyndhams3.mpg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-8452678813939531353?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8452678813939531353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=8452678813939531353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8452678813939531353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/8452678813939531353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/1-may.html' title='1 MAY'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-731571666485288429</id><published>2007-05-01T09:30:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T09:49:02.259+02:00</updated><title type='text'>30 APR 2007</title><content type='html'>This is going to be long...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting somewhere in the  middle as usual:  We are at a hotel conference room/ballroom/pavilion type thing.  Me and so many friends.  All my best ones, and then some random people, too.  Pat S, from ASB...she use to do Jenny Craig and I thought of her the other day when Valerie Bertenelli (I can say her last name bc she is famous anyway!) decided to go Kirstie Alley and do JCraig also.  Anyway, Amy Liisa came and she had to fly in from California.  (?) She said Kathy MADE ME!  There were also a group of guys there, turns out this was like a bachelorette/bachelor party for Stephen and me.  But we were already married, I think.  So, all the girls are having to go to the bathroom, but no one wants to go to the ones there, they are gross like German bathrooms.  And some didn't have doors on them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut to a HUGE hotel room where everyone was crashed out on couches, beds, the floor.  Just like a great big slumber party.  Fade out and then back in again, and it's just me and Bill L.  He said he had to take me somewhere so I could take a shower.  I asked why I couldn't just take a shower there and he explained that he couldn't leave me alone because he was suppose to be watching me, but he had to go to the store and get something for his headache.  Now, instead of saying my usual, "you want some Advil?"  I said, " something like extra strength Tylenol?"  He said no, the extra absorbant kind of tampons.  WHAT??  He went into this huge discussion about it with me.  He had gathered up some clean clothes for me and we got in the car to go.  On the way, I asked, "so...how does this marriage thing work?  I mean, sometimes I love Stephen so much I could just explode...OK, that sounded like we are 13.  Is it suppose to be that way?"  He said that if we are lucky and work hard, yes.  It should be; it is for him and Lin. &lt;br /&gt;OK.  So we get to the "store".  It is like a fast food restaurant, a convenience store and a sitdown restaurant all in one.  As we walk through the parking lot, there are taco bell wrappers, cups, various trash everywhere.  Like in piles!  Then we walk in the door and there on the little carpet square in front of the door there are some chili dogs.  ???  Don't step on the chili dogs! &lt;br /&gt;We get inside and I go to find this shower (in telling him about it this morning, Stephen says, SO...it was a truck stop, then?  I don't know).  As I get toward the back there are some disgruntled employees and they are discussing how since the sitdown part was added, the whole place has gone downhill.  People don't care, don't take pride in their work, etc.  I start talking to them, telling them that it starts with them.  They have to do what they can, no matter what anyone else does, or try to find something else.  (Just don't call CPAC/CPOL/CPOC!!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then...I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-731571666485288429?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/731571666485288429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=731571666485288429' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/731571666485288429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/731571666485288429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/05/30-apr-2007.html' title='30 APR 2007'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5263493898364055540</id><published>2007-04-30T08:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T08:07:37.830+02:00</updated><title type='text'>29 APR 2007</title><content type='html'>Again w/ Jason S.  He came over to our house (my brother and I, still living at home) to be babysat?  Yes, he is our age, I have no idea what that was about.  Then, we were going to take him home at 3 am or something, and called to see if he could just spend the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in there, Greg G came over and wanted to put a new bedskirt he had made on the bed.  It was purple velvet.  He tried attaching it around the bed, and it would only go 1/2 way.  So we ended up attaching it to the blanket that was between the top sheet and the comforter.  ???  Don't ask me, I have NO idea what all that was about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, during all of this, the front door was left open and when I came in, the TV and VCR was missing and I thought someone had broken in and stolen it.  My brother had hidden it to teach me and/or Jason and/or my parents a lesson.  Whoever left the front door open was to learn the lesson.  This may have been because the other day Stephen and I left the front door of our house open all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Craziness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5263493898364055540?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5263493898364055540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5263493898364055540' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5263493898364055540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5263493898364055540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/04/29-apr-2007.html' title='29 APR 2007'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-5338923524201275705</id><published>2007-04-29T09:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T09:40:07.912+02:00</updated><title type='text'>28 APR 2007</title><content type='html'>There was a meeting.  It was like an information exchange.  There were FRG Leaders and FRSAs and Soldier Family Readiness Liasons, a lot of people there.  Everyone was sharing ideas and learning from one another.  Family members were coming in and getting information about their unit's FRG.  It was great!  It was how the program is intended to work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then...I was at some model conference.  I don't know if it was about modeling, but everyone there was like those on America's Next Top Model.  And I was right there in the middle of all of it.  Not embarrassed that I was twice the size of those women, and we were in the pool!  We were doing these twist exercises, and chatting about who knows what.  It was odd.  I woke up feeling like I should have been embarrassed about the way I looked, but no one cared and everyone treated everyone the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: when you dream, is there a start, middle, end?  (that you remember)?  I seem to only have the middle part, they just fade in and out....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-5338923524201275705?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5338923524201275705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=5338923524201275705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5338923524201275705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/5338923524201275705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/04/28-apr-2007.html' title='28 APR 2007'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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-7462939490821445658.post-3458333333232213023</id><published>2007-04-28T11:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T11:19:43.120+02:00</updated><title type='text'>27 APR 2007</title><content type='html'>There were two, but for the life of me, I can only remember one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a beach house with Tammi, Chris and Beth.  I think there might have been other people there...not sure.  (I decided I dreamed about a beach house because we slept with the fan on last night, it sounded like waves)  I was running from room to room trying to clean, literally in a frenzy.  I guess we were getting ready to leave and had to clean up.  (I think I dreamed about this because I went to sleep thinking about needing to clean the house and how I was going to do it. --15 minutes per room ala Flylady)  I went to take the trash out after having dumped a bunch of cereal in it-the whole bag was full of all kinds of cereal, layered in there like one of those sand art projects-and a GIANT roach came crawling out of it. BLEEEECKKK!!  It was seriously hamster size!  (and I might have dreamed this because there were some otters on Leno last night, one got out of the tank and ran off) &lt;br /&gt;Oh, I just went to get my notebook that I started keeping by the bed.  There was also a part during the cleaning where we loaded the dishwasher, and then unloaded and washed them by hand because it wasn't full and so they would be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side note:  When we woke up, Stephen said, "Did you have a pen in the bed earlier?"  hahahaha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7462939490821445658-3458333333232213023?l=nightlyadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3458333333232213023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7462939490821445658&amp;postID=3458333333232213023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3458333333232213023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7462939490821445658/posts/default/3458333333232213023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightlyadventures.blogspot.com/2007/04/27-apr-2007.html' title='27 APR 2007'/><author><name>HeatherRene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13663018665925607671</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></feed>
