<?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-3856484637439671462</id><updated>2011-07-08T00:43:59.578-07:00</updated><category term='Clubhouse Gatherings'/><title type='text'>A moment in the life of Stacey</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-8057645826443450209</id><published>2010-09-28T21:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T21:32:23.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>T + BN + JC = Perfect Night</title><content type='html'>I absolutely love racquetball and would rather be playing it than most anything else, even if I am not the best.  I like even more than Korean music, dramas and food.  Only reading beats out racquetball.  However, I recently learned to love tennis.  It will never replace racquetball, probably because I am not a decent player.  Tennis has the advantage of being outside and practically free! ;-)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Therefore tonight I combined three of my favorite things, my roommates (Clarissa &amp;amp; Joanna), Tennis and Barnes &amp;amp; Noble.  Okay, so we didn't play tennis in B&amp;amp;N, but it was like the icing on the fabulous cake.  I have found a new reward for accomplishing the things I need to in a day.  It is head to B&amp;amp;N.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-8057645826443450209?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/8057645826443450209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=8057645826443450209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/8057645826443450209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/8057645826443450209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2010/09/t-bn-jc-perfect-night.html' title='T + BN + JC = Perfect Night'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-8617063054714877207</id><published>2010-09-27T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T20:20:42.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Public Face</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wish I was that person who really said what they were thinking and feeling.  Not that I am a liar.  However, I certainly wish I could say something along the lines of "life is a piece of crap today"or when my crush looked my way and I want squeel like a fan girl.  Instead I have to hide behind my public face and be "cool."  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nobody makes me do it.  I don't think I can even blame my parents.  Darn!  I have an innate desire to please everyone around me and not to have anyone worry.  It upsets me even more when people worry about me.  What a complex!  But I have decided to beat this part of my guilt complex and not to let this fear and guilt keep me from doing and saying what I want.  I know I am going to offend people but at least I am not going to hide anymore...or at least that is the goal.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to write this down and hold myself to it.  I am not going to be a people pleaser anymore just to avoid conflict or hurting people.  I have finally learned that is okay to be who I am and to mess up sometimes.  Thanks to my best friends and current roommates, I have finally found people who I don't have to wear my public face around.  I think after my recent long-lasting-late-twenties' (hopefully not mid-life) crisis, I can finally feel like leaving the house and not living in the dark and admit that depression seriously can mess up your life if you let it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some say that depression is an illness.  Others say it's all made up and an excuse.  But for those who face the realities of it, you know you have to fight it every day.  Every morning is a fight about who you are going to believe--the anxieties and fear or the logic and faith.  But the scariest type of depression is the kind that comes from being sick all the time with some unknown thing and trying to fight feeling sick and depressed at the same time while trying to keep a public face. However, I think I've made all the right steps and can get my life back to where I was a year and a half ago thanks to people who love me for who I am.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to say that I am grateful that no one has criticized me (at least to my face) but everyone has been so good to me and have remained my friends through it all.  Most people probably never saw past my public face, but for those who did, I am beyond appreciative.  If not, I probably would have honestly tried to go home as I wanted to never wake up again.  But God must want me to stay for some reason even if I begged him because I have way to many people who have called and wanted to see me even though I did cancel on them.  I think my best friend saved my life because she wants to do something with me each week.  She's the only person I really left the dark room for on a consistent basis, but I even let her down.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel that I have to write this down out of gratitude for every single person who texted or called which gave me another reason to exist. Also to not let myself fall into the patterns that led to my despair.  I have to keep to works of faith and my work out routine so that this will be the only time I fail like this in my life.  I hope that this experience can be turned to something good through God's grace.  I know for sure that I no longer will hide behind my public face and will try to see past other's public faces to give support and to make that phone call.  It might be exactly what someone who has struggled like me needs...a reason to exist...a reason to hope.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-8617063054714877207?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/8617063054714877207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=8617063054714877207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/8617063054714877207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/8617063054714877207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2010/09/public-face.html' title='Public Face'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-7749127569384319219</id><published>2009-04-15T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T12:01:09.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Quote</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Holiness means walking away from the philosophies of man. It means looking to prophets for spiritual counsel, not celebrities or experts, who may be appealing but who all come packing personal motives and an arsenal of half-truths.  It is deadly to take counsel from anyone whose primary motive is to build his or her own kingdom." Sheri Dew&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-7749127569384319219?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/7749127569384319219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=7749127569384319219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/7749127569384319219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/7749127569384319219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2009/04/favorite-quote.html' title='Favorite Quote'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-4895219239186277519</id><published>2009-03-19T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T14:11:24.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate vs. Dark Chocolate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/ScKyeLJEo0I/AAAAAAAAACM/xfzVzTn_DHk/s1600-h/j0439245.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315006741707268930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/ScKyeLJEo0I/AAAAAAAAACM/xfzVzTn_DHk/s320/j0439245.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now for most of my close associates, the title of this post would be surprising because I don't eat chocolate. Not that I have anything against it, I just can't eat it. So the title of posting doesn't have anything to do with the food. However, I entertained myself by telling of my hair coloring adventure by this comparison.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to get my hair colored last night. I told my fabulous stylist that I wanted my hair dyed chocolate. However, after a couple minutes talking to me and hearing my school stories, including the flying monkey incident (literally a flying monkey), my stylist suggested a different color. It ended up being dark chocolate mixed with red velvet. My hair looks almost black. WOW! I couldn't believe how daring I felt. Yesterday (and for most of my life) my hair has been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt; or light brown. I kinda went into shock when I saw it afterwards. I'm pretty conservative in my appearance and this definitely is a change to say the least. I decided to play with my clothes today also. I've felt great and liberated all day. I'm not really a structure girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My roommate said she is excited for 10 weeks from now to see what color I go...However, I think I'll be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;staying with the same cut and color, but maybe not. I do like the freedom.&lt;/span&gt; So from here on out I will always say that I'm a DARK CHOCOLATE girl...with red velvet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tendencies&lt;/span&gt;. Pictures will be coming shortly.&lt;/div&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/3856484637439671462-4895219239186277519?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/4895219239186277519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=4895219239186277519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/4895219239186277519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/4895219239186277519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2009/03/chocolate-vs-dark-chocolate.html' title='Chocolate vs. Dark Chocolate'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/ScKyeLJEo0I/AAAAAAAAACM/xfzVzTn_DHk/s72-c/j0439245.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-1775525069167737853</id><published>2009-03-16T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T14:48:45.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Art of Persuasion and the Happiest Place on Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/Sb7I65BLsDI/AAAAAAAAACE/qrFAi11HsX0/s1600-h/Picture+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/Sb7IlxcY8mI/AAAAAAAAAB8/kLbLzv1-jww/s1600-h/Picture+070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313905161596891746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/Sb7IlxcY8mI/AAAAAAAAAB8/kLbLzv1-jww/s320/Picture+070.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just to clarify, I'm not writing about my favorite Jane Austen movie...but the ability to motivate people. I'm also not talking about the Temple or the Home...the other two Happiest places on Earth. I'm blogging about the communication skill and Disneyland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What does the Art of Persuasion and Disneyland have in common? At first glance, not much. However, the more I think about it, Disneyland has mastered the art of persuasion. I think Business School has influenced me too much sometimes. As I enjoyed the thrilling rides and sore feet (not so much), I couldn't help but analyze the amazing organization that Disneyland has become over the years. From the moment, you walk in, everything is about crowd control and details. It's so blatantly subtle, it's magical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Disneyland has established rules and employees everywhere to ensure that tourists are moving in the right direction. Fast passes allow Disneyland to control the amount of people entering a line. You have to keep your arms and hands inside at all times. You are warned that you will get wet or motion sick and yet people still stand for hours, waiting just for that opportunity. As I thought about it, the Happiest place on earth has more rules and regulations than a contract, but people don't complain. They've set up the rules to be informational, entertaining, fair and consistent. By this, Disney has persuaded its visitors to be willing to wait for hours without yelling at or beating other individuals just to soar over California or drop from the top of a Tower. Now...I started to compare that to people driving on the freeway...maybe Disney magic could be used to help the communte every morning. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could go on forever about this. I find analyzing businesses fascinating, especially from an operational standpoint...but I think I'll just post some pictures instead.&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/3856484637439671462-1775525069167737853?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/1775525069167737853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=1775525069167737853' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/1775525069167737853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/1775525069167737853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2009/03/art-of-persuasion-and-happiest-place-on.html' title='The Art of Persuasion and the Happiest Place on Earth'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/Sb7IlxcY8mI/AAAAAAAAAB8/kLbLzv1-jww/s72-c/Picture+070.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-774411341700914935</id><published>2009-03-12T11:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T12:15:51.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Temples and their purposes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/mormonmessages"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/mormonmessages&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally think this should be shared with everyone. I am always saddened by misunderstandings. I hope that we take time to make available true depictions of temples to balance out ones that people will see on a cable TV show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/commentary/the-publicity-dilemma"&gt;http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/commentary/the-publicity-dilemma&lt;/a&gt;   This is an awesome position and put things into perspective for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-774411341700914935?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/774411341700914935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=774411341700914935' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/774411341700914935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/774411341700914935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2009/03/temples-and-their-purposes.html' title='Temples and their purposes'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-4721454323057890388</id><published>2009-03-04T15:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T15:46:53.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you are a night MBA student when...</title><content type='html'>10. You get excited about running a manufacturing plant via a computer game.&lt;br /&gt;9. You congratulate yourself for not only staying awake during class, but not spending most of the lecture reading other people's blogs.&lt;br /&gt;8. You have your MBA team members' emails prioritized over friends' and families'.&lt;br /&gt;7. Your roommates wonder what you are doing home before 10pm on any given night or home at all on the weekends.&lt;br /&gt;6. Your family doesn't recognize you without your laptop sitting on your lap.&lt;br /&gt;5. Your comments in every area of your life revolve around what you fell asleep studying the night before.&lt;br /&gt;4. 6 AM is way too early to be moving, but work won't let you sleep in...&lt;br /&gt;3. You feel guilty for watching a half an hour of anything unless you have your laptop on and you are doing homework.&lt;br /&gt;2. It scares you how much the Wall Street Journal now makes sense and what it says can be even scarier.&lt;br /&gt;1. You don't know what to do when you have 5 minutes of free time...heck, you don't even know what free time is ...&lt;br /&gt;BUSINESS SCHOOL IS AWESOME!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-4721454323057890388?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/4721454323057890388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=4721454323057890388' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/4721454323057890388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/4721454323057890388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2009/03/you-know-you-are-night-mba-student-when.html' title='You know you are a night MBA student when...'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-7136275363817032221</id><published>2009-02-13T07:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T08:21:02.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Faster than a speeding bullet...</title><content type='html'>Wow! It is already February. I thought that last year sped by me, but this year is already moving even faster. I love the fast pace, but I also would like to catch a breath of air. However, I am grateful that I survived Managerial Accounting. I hope to never take another accounting class. Sorry all you accountant type people! I don't like it at all and I HAVE tried it. (However, I love my Finance and Operations class. They both use accounting principles. Knowing about income statements and balance sheets does pay off, I admit.)&lt;br /&gt;My life pretty much revolves around school. Even when I got my undergrad, my life didn't revolve around school so much. Talk about learning by immersion! I realized that it has taken over my life this week. (I was warned that it would take it over for two years.) The realization was driven home by five things.&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm falling asleep over my homework (face planted) at night and dream about it.&lt;br /&gt;2. My roommates were surprised to see me home at all but not surprised to see me with my laptop out and doing homework.&lt;br /&gt;3. I arrange my life schedule around what time I need to spend on homework individually and in groups, be in class, or organize things for the student committee.&lt;br /&gt;4. I relate everything to something I learned at school...including my spiritual and social life.&lt;br /&gt;5. My conversations all go back to something about school. The irony is as I was writing this one of the guys I work with came by and asked me how school is going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How am I doing? My operational system runs on refined raw materials and the balance sheet of life is well...balanced. The NPV of this is that I will not have to do this all again in the future! What am I going to do next? Go to Disneyland!! I'm serious. ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-7136275363817032221?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/7136275363817032221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=7136275363817032221' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/7136275363817032221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/7136275363817032221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2009/02/faster-than-speeding-bullet.html' title='Faster than a speeding bullet...'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-5924850285632807475</id><published>2008-12-02T17:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T17:43:11.571-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My final answer is Volleyball.</title><content type='html'>I've been hobbling around for about 3 and half weeks on an injured foot.   When I'm at work, I don't usually leave my desk.  However, I do have to get up to do a couple of things.   When I do, I seem to have the same experience.  I run into someone I barely know or don't know and they ask, "What happened to your foot." Then I have to stand there on my good foot for a few minutes while they grill me and give me advice which I try to listen to attentively, wishing I could hobble away to a chair.  My response is getting to be second nature.&lt;br /&gt;For example, today, I ran into a guy I work with once in awhile.  He said 'hi' and instead of responding with 'how are you' or 'hello', I said, "Volleyball."  He just started laughing.  Yep, he had not even asked about my foot.  He admitted he was going to, but I threw him off with my statement. &lt;br /&gt;Serves me right I guess. Volleyball IS my destruction and my love.   I can't say how many times, I've injured myself playing volleyball, but is definitely more than five or six times.  Yet, I can't seem to give it up.  I am paying for it by having to go to physical therapy.  The therapy seems to be working though.  I can walk with a much less noticeable limp and I get out of my aircast starting tomorrow.  I also can drive again starting tomorrow!  (I did kind of cheat today and drove myself to therapy.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-5924850285632807475?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/5924850285632807475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=5924850285632807475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/5924850285632807475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/5924850285632807475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-final-answer-is-volleyball.html' title='My final answer is Volleyball.'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-1201251807721221708</id><published>2008-11-25T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T12:41:32.534-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks for Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>Thanksgiving! I love Thanksgiving. I decided to list the top ten things I am grateful for about the actual day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Turkey--I think Benjamin Franklin was right...the turkey is a magnificent bird...and definitely yummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Football -- This keeps my dad interested while I get to just chat with my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pie--no explanation needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No work--Tons of work, but nothing job related. I appreciate the change!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The NAP--Maybe I'm the only one, but I love taking an afternoon nap between the meal and the eating of pie...even if it is only 15 minutes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thanks List--I like hearing what my family is grateful for even only for one day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cooking--It is a day dedicated to cooking. I feel like I never have time to cook, but here is a whole day to spend in that pursuit.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A day to prepare--I think the eating is storing energy for the next day shopping trip!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thanksgiving Movie--Traditionally, my mom and I go see a movie...yay!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;MOST IMPORTANTLY--I GET TO LISTEN TO CHRISTMAS MUSIC WITHOUT ANYONE COMPLAINING ABOUT IT BEING BEFORE THANKSGIVING!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-1201251807721221708?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/1201251807721221708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=1201251807721221708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/1201251807721221708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/1201251807721221708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanks-for-thanksgiving.html' title='Thanks for Thanksgiving'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-2835679366154680951</id><published>2008-10-26T15:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T20:23:56.949-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clubhouse Gatherings'/><title type='text'>No "Jack" about it!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/SQTvc5q3nMI/AAAAAAAAABY/JTfxhPaBI9Q/s1600-h/stacey+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/SQTvc5q3nMI/AAAAAAAAABY/JTfxhPaBI9Q/s400/stacey+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261593544471583938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/SQTvc70QPUI/AAAAAAAAABg/Dq_nR1Rkepg/s1600-h/stacey+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/SQTvc70QPUI/AAAAAAAAABg/Dq_nR1Rkepg/s400/stacey+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261593545047817538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the beginning of many pictures documenting the greatest pumpkin carving event ever conducted at the Clubhouse.  Thanks to Eric, who came up with the idea and organized it, we were able to get Bachelor Pad and Clubhouse girls together again...including the fabulous spouses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-2835679366154680951?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/2835679366154680951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=2835679366154680951' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/2835679366154680951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/2835679366154680951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/10/no-jack-about-it.html' title='No &quot;Jack&quot; about it!!'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/SQTvc5q3nMI/AAAAAAAAABY/JTfxhPaBI9Q/s72-c/stacey+014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-2881535220359301985</id><published>2008-10-21T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T17:47:55.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it LUCK or SKILL?</title><content type='html'>Some may argue that to get 100% on a your accounting quiz that you have barely looked at the material for is just pure luck. Of course, they might just say it is luck because there is no way that accounting is logical and the details can drain the personality out of a person.&lt;br /&gt;However, I did just get a 100% and I've definitely got a personality and only a little numbers logic. It probably helps that I prayed and that I work with the "Finance Guys" at work. Terminology is what gets me but I can add and subtract. I think however, it was luck that the questions were all number based...so maybe it was luck and skill.&lt;br /&gt;Going on though, Kelli Post and I were playing racquetball a little while ago. She commented that she thinks that when women make a great kill, they usually respond, "That was luck." She further stated that men usually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;respond&lt;/span&gt; to a great shot with something along the lines of "THAT WAS SKILL" and flex or something equally as manly. So I'm curious...I wonder if I could get a grant from someone to study if this really is a gender differential or if it is something else entirely. Maybe I could even run a multiple regression model from my beginning Statistics course...oh...I better stop before this sounds like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; viable idea...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-2881535220359301985?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/2881535220359301985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=2881535220359301985' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/2881535220359301985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/2881535220359301985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/10/is-it-luck-or-skill.html' title='Is it LUCK or SKILL?'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-2264136593846727878</id><published>2008-10-20T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T13:30:08.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultimate Traveling Spoons Addict</title><content type='html'>I must admit that I love competition. I love games. I used to deny it, but now I embrace it ... completely. It all started with Settlers of Catan. I kept playing and playing until I could figure out a strategy to beat the guys I play with every time. Yeah...that feels very good. So this past Sunday, after our usually crazy dinner at the Clubhouse (which Jon cooked for us), we decided to play games. Andrea, my cool work friend who has been adopted into "THE GROUP," brought some of her friends. They introduced me to Ultimate Traveling Spoons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within a few minutes, the group of friends became a mob of people dashing for the coveted utensil in the next room. The first round was hilarious. I climbed up on the couch to avoid the mass exodus, but Brennen caught my foot and tripped me, causing me to land on Debi. She face planted into the couch. I slipped my foot free of Brennen's grasp and and jumped off the couch over the people sprawled in the hall. Victory was mine...and 8 other people's too. Only David didn't get a spoon...Yes, we kept playing until everyone was worn out...but I have admit...I think I might be an addict.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-2264136593846727878?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/2264136593846727878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=2264136593846727878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/2264136593846727878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/2264136593846727878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/10/ultimate-traveling-spoons-addict.html' title='Ultimate Traveling Spoons Addict'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-7431857145221238114</id><published>2008-10-14T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T11:00:12.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I just ended my relationship with the guy I've been dating. You know that it is good thing you ended it when you feel so happy it is over!!!! I feel free to do things with my friends and not feel guilty anymore. I decided to go out last night with Brennen, Jen, Chris, Andy and Dawn to a corn maze. SO MUCH FUN! But the night got even better...We went to Denny's afterwards for Botttomless Hot Chocolate!! Chris and I waltzed through the aisle and Brennen and I cha cha'ed later. So much fun! I love people and hopefully we entertained those around us. Chris also picked up my tab...see not all men are clueless. Everyone should try it sometime...randomly dancing in a public place (with nice partner of course)!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-7431857145221238114?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/7431857145221238114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=7431857145221238114' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/7431857145221238114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/7431857145221238114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-i-just-ended-my-relationship-with.html' title=''/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-4186844900271532244</id><published>2008-10-13T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T14:34:02.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick is a terrible feeling</title><content type='html'>So I had a lot of time to think while I was sick, but did I use it.  Nope I was so sick that it hurt to try to even think about thinking...but I did watch a lot of TV on the internet.  I watched old TGIF shows, like Sabrina the Teenage Witch.  Some may think that is pathetic.  I think it is nostalgic.  Really, wouldn't it be nice to have a show that is just upbeat and CLEAN like that!  I mean, really!  I loved not ever worrying whether there was going to be "spicy" scene...etc.  Just good CLEAN fun.  It was really hard to find anything on TV itself that was clean.  Thank goodness for the Disney channel or I would have been groaning more and annoying my roommates more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-4186844900271532244?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/4186844900271532244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=4186844900271532244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/4186844900271532244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/4186844900271532244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/10/sick-is-terrible-feeling.html' title='Sick is a terrible feeling'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-1334960201611590954</id><published>2008-09-10T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T14:02:05.534-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in the PMBA fast lane</title><content type='html'>I didn't think my life could get any busier...I mean work and my social life.  However, life has gotten into hyper drive and I LOVE IT!!! School is fabulous and now I am going to be part of the Student Association.  Yeah, I'm crazy, but I'm lovin' every moment of it!  I'm so glad I'm doing this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-1334960201611590954?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/1334960201611590954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=1334960201611590954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/1334960201611590954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/1334960201611590954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/09/life-in-pmba-fast-lane.html' title='Life in the PMBA fast lane'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-5217719670318260747</id><published>2008-05-16T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T11:25:26.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I started my pre-req courses for the Pr MBA program at the U.  My professor is just funny.  He makes 3 hour class fly by and makes the Math understandable to a person like me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-5217719670318260747?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/5217719670318260747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=5217719670318260747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/5217719670318260747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/5217719670318260747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/05/well-i-started-my-pre-req-courses-for.html' title=''/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3856484637439671462.post-8882033712951806182</id><published>2008-03-19T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T11:04:00.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decision I've made</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm still trying to convince myself to study for the GMAT.  It is so much more fun to do anything else! Running, watching a movie...reading a fabulous book.  What can I say?  Studying hasn't ever been a strong point for me.  Put me on a project and I just can't stop...prepare for a test.............well, you get the idea.  But I refuse to be beaten by my own inability to like studying.  I like to study for History tests... My reward after all this is done on March 31, 2008 is a book and a hike! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have to sit down and write the essays...maybe I should be thinking about that and not writing here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3856484637439671462-8882033712951806182?l=swainstons.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/feeds/8882033712951806182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3856484637439671462&amp;postID=8882033712951806182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/8882033712951806182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3856484637439671462/posts/default/8882033712951806182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://swainstons.blogspot.com/2008/03/decision-ive-made.html' title='Decision I&apos;ve made'/><author><name>A moment in the Life of Stacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01390559713160201476</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_iqkoIYqeH6k/R-FV60hesAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5I5oUCVZqf8/S220/Stacey+%26+Boxes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
