<?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-7652937206696033633</id><updated>2011-09-25T06:39:14.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Days of a Computer magnet</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-1928674324979445886</id><published>2010-01-27T04:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T04:45:26.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2A0oPhLONI/AAAAAAAAAAc/7kAab1exE2E/s1600-h/blogging03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2A0oPhLONI/AAAAAAAAAAc/7kAab1exE2E/s320/blogging03.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431399016573909202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-1928674324979445886?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/1928674324979445886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=1928674324979445886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/1928674324979445886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/1928674324979445886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2A0oPhLONI/AAAAAAAAAAc/7kAab1exE2E/s72-c/blogging03.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-5965607907136310181</id><published>2010-01-05T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T19:56:03.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YES!!!</title><content type='html'>I figured out my username/password combination for this blog! Yeha!!!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that I dont' forget:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.us account w/ gmail password for RI. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There. I shall never again forget the combination!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now. Why did I care so much to figure all that out??? I don't even care to blog. Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-5965607907136310181?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/5965607907136310181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=5965607907136310181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/5965607907136310181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/5965607907136310181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2010/01/yes.html' title='YES!!!'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-8983146749641820139</id><published>2009-02-28T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T11:17:12.488-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;While I was in bathroom just finishing brushing my teeth I hear a knock in the door:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Ryann, I have a s’prise for you!!!”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Me: “Uh, okay, hang on, James”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I delayed a moment. I opened the door to find James about five steps away. He turned around and grinned really big, “see, Honey, it’s right there.” And pointed to my ‘surprise’ which he had set right in front of the bathroom door: A cookie.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In fact, it was one of the cookies that someone had made for my birthday, so it was mine anyway.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Big grin) “THANKS JAMES!!!”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“You’re welcome!” and then he walked away SO glad with himself that he had made someone’s day.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m FREEZING (not literally). But I’m enjoying a frozen smoothie despite my freezingness.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have a feeling that March will be a fun and busy month. Feb was busy. We had our Aunt and Uncle over and I’m not even going to START with what they did for us. It’s overwhelming. They are so generous. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m off to study Biology. Love that subject ( I just saw a picture in my Biology workbook of a close up on a thumb pin and was so grossed out upon seeing all the little bacteria on it and I don’t know if I wanna finish my smoothie). I am amazed with my Creator each time I read my Biology. He really is incredible!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-8983146749641820139?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/8983146749641820139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=8983146749641820139' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/8983146749641820139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/8983146749641820139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2009/02/randomness_28.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-1473265453606225115</id><published>2009-02-26T17:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T17:54:42.438-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AK difficulties</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We are planning on moving to AK. We’ve had an odd series of events that suddenly caused us to wonder if it is really God’s will that we move out of TN, away from dear friends, away from our little farm, and move to Alaska.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yes, there are things in AK that I would look forward to. But never have I thought something would be so difficult as this. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We had a family who wants to buy our house come and look at it. This is when the gravity of the situation fell on me. LEAVE this place?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I know that the Lord won’t have me to do anything that is beyond my ability. I know I can make this move if it’s His will. But, I will struggle with having the proper attitude. And in my rebellious nature, I know that it wouldn’t be myself to smile the whole trip up to AK. I’ve been praying that He would help me to keep the attitude that would please Him. After all, if this is His will for me to go, it is HE that I live for! NOT myself! So I MUST keep that attitude (cheerfulness, thankfulness, contentedness, etc.). (Phil. 2:5, 2:14, 1 Thess. 5:18) &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And as you probably know, I am very attached to this place. I am extremely attached to my Church and friends. So while I was fighting the natural desire to sulk, I was lead to Philippians 1 and was reading about how Paul was in chains, but longed to visit God’s people in Philippi, but he hadn’t a choice whether or not he could see them. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Made me think of what I baby I am. Here I am, thinking about how difficult it would be not to see my friends at least once a month anymore, and I come across Paul’s situation. At least I would have the freedom to visit them! AND I could contact them every day! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If we do move, may I go joyfully there knowing that it is His will and may I be pleased to know that His will in me is being fulfilled. May He use me for His glory. What a privilege that is!!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Philippians 2:13&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For His Glory,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-Ryann &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hebrews 13:20-21&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;May the God of peace,…equip you with everything good for doing His will, and may He work in us what is pleasing to Him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-1473265453606225115?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/1473265453606225115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=1473265453606225115' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/1473265453606225115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/1473265453606225115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2009/02/ak-difficulties.html' title='AK difficulties'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-4847752490224200550</id><published>2009-02-26T05:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T05:17:16.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ummmm</title><content type='html'>Okay, I'll blog something again soon. Check back in a month or two. :-P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-4847752490224200550?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/4847752490224200550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=4847752490224200550' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/4847752490224200550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/4847752490224200550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2009/02/ummmm.html' title='Ummmm'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-8429358699666046078</id><published>2009-02-16T15:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T15:08:39.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>Written 2-11-09&lt;br /&gt;Coie and I recently went out to eat (Salsaritas, awesome Mexican food) with some friends that we met not too long ago. Somehow we got into a conversation about spicy foods and hot sauce. I mentioned that Coie’s taste buds must not work because she can eat the hottest things that MUST burn the whole way down and she doesn’t seem to even notice the hotness (she eats those Burning Buffalo Wings as if it has no hot flavor whatsoever—as if it were as unhot as bread).&lt;br /&gt;After a while of discussing the different burning foods in the world, Bethany, who also can’t stand very hot things, said: “I just don’t think food should hurt.” I think she’s right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was on the computer messing around, Emmiko brought me four muffins that she made.&lt;br /&gt;As she slid the plate under my nose she said “Ryann, you are so skinny. I’m gonna help you gain a HUNDRED pounds.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Muffins. 100 Pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did you put in those???&lt;br /&gt;So, I enjoyed all four muffins. Then I went and got 2 more. I don’t think I gained 150 pounds. Before I had the muffo’s I weighed 131, now I’m 131.1/2. Um. “Emmi, your muffins didn’t really work, maybe you should make me a couple pans of dirt cake.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juss and Cha should be here in a couple hours. They’re taking forEVER. I’ll bet Charley took the pilot seat and got lost somewhere in the blue.&lt;br /&gt;*Edit*&lt;br /&gt;Jess and Cha are HERE!!! And they got me an AWESOME computer program, it’s so awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY’RE awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-8429358699666046078?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/8429358699666046078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=8429358699666046078' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/8429358699666046078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/8429358699666046078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2009/02/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-4109732298814440761</id><published>2009-02-11T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T07:11:46.959-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From a Germaphobic</title><content type='html'>So, I’ve learned that nothing good can come from being a germaphobic. It’s unfortunate that I’m a germaphobic. I just realized today some new things that grossed me out so bad. And I though “Pshaw, if I weren’t a germaphobic, this wouldn’t be a problem”. I then realized that even though I had done this “thing” that I thought was so gross so many times during my life, I was still alive. So I tried not to think about this disgusting “thing” while I did it because it’s unavoidable. It’s also harmless. Harmless, yet psychologically painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I’ve been working on not being grossed out so easily or thinking so hard about things that would end up grossing me out (such as…well, nevermind). I was talking to Dad (also a germaphobic) about germaphobia and he told me that he just learned to accept really gross things because he just came to so many points that he HAD to deal with whatever was so gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I’m working on accepting gross things in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now I wanna share something that REALLY bothers me:&lt;br /&gt;I can’t STAND it when people spell “would’ve” or “could’ve” like this: “Would of” or “Could of”.&lt;br /&gt;It kills me. Don’t do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I’m a bit negative today. Wanna know another one of my pet-peeves? I hate it when someone uses a cordless phone and doesn’t put it back on the charging base.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a bright side:&lt;br /&gt;My sister just got home from work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what I just learned. My brother has a temperature of 103. I’d BETTER not get sick. I hate being sick. Hate it. I really really really hate being sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post it totally negative. Time to sign off before I find more things to ruin your day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is praiseworthy—think about such things (Phil. 4:8). I think that if I were meditating on this rather than my pet-peeves, I’d be more contented.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-4109732298814440761?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/4109732298814440761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=4109732298814440761' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/4109732298814440761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/4109732298814440761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-ive-learned-that-nothing-good-can.html' title='From a Germaphobic'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-5874965789824793744</id><published>2009-02-10T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T11:03:43.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ummm</title><content type='html'>Uh. Well, I figured out my password...as you can see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will think up sompin to say and then I'll blog again. I'm thinking about starting up blogger again. Even though I dislike it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-5874965789824793744?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/5874965789824793744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=5874965789824793744' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/5874965789824793744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/5874965789824793744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2009/02/ummm.html' title='Ummm'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-1720757946824061524</id><published>2008-11-20T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T15:51:18.755-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm going home tomorrow! I'm excited, but I'm also really sad because there are some people at my Grandma's church who I REALLY like and it'll be sad leaving them. Last night was probably the last time I'll get to see my new friends for a long time. When I was giving a hug to the one lady who got creamed (see previous post) I got this close to losing it. I was REALLY sad.  I'll get to see them again someday. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so, we take off tomorrow before 6am and we'll head for TN. Can't wait to see my family! I miss them tons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm. I s'pose I don't got nothin' else to say. I was just bored so I blogged. But I hate blogging, so of all things, why'd I choose to blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. M, if you happen to be reading my blog: "I miss you! and I hope to see you again REALLY soon!" :-D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-1720757946824061524?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/1720757946824061524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=1720757946824061524' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/1720757946824061524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/1720757946824061524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-going-home-tomorrow-im-excited-but.html' title=''/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-7280865137907478380</id><published>2008-11-15T07:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T08:10:30.135-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay every peoples, I'm back</title><content type='html'>I had forgotten my password, but I was too lazy to fix it until now. So, here I am, and I'm gonna post a video if I can of the whipped cream prank from last night...This is Mrs. M after getting creamed with whipped cream on a plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/SR7zeDs9vgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/VwwlYwAktes/s1600-h/Creamed.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268916311785586178" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/SR7zeDs9vgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/VwwlYwAktes/s320/Creamed.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Here's the video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ff604037d2745a5e" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dff604037d2745a5e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329909319%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5DD9AC2C23C4B958245E3E78F4F9464CBB541411.4C8272BCD3FBAFE3B20006FE7956B96F45C94195%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dff604037d2745a5e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DekOszRxm2BYFkcVUR6Pn414lX0E&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dff604037d2745a5e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329909319%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5DD9AC2C23C4B958245E3E78F4F9464CBB541411.4C8272BCD3FBAFE3B20006FE7956B96F45C94195%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dff604037d2745a5e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DekOszRxm2BYFkcVUR6Pn414lX0E&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wasn't apart of the prank, but I knew it was going to happen and I didn't tell Mrs. M. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, the lady that got creamed wanted to get back the two girls who did that to her. It just so happens that Miss T had to go pick up some pizzas and those girls (I won't give their names, but I'll just call them Kelly and Lydia here because they look like my two friends: Kelly and Lydia) had to go with her. We wanted Mrs. M to hide in the back of the car while I sat in front and Kelly and Lydia in the back and when the girls got in Mrs. M would scare them. BUT, there was a problem. Miss T's vehicle was a car, and she'd have to be in the trunk. So I suggested that we take Grandma's Jeep. So I went and got the keys and Mrs. M and I secretly ran out to the Jeep and she jumped in the back and hid under my coat and I ran back to Miss T and finally the four of us, Kelly, Lydia, me, and Miss T all walked out together. Miss T and I got in the front and they got in the back. So while we were on the way to the pizza place, Miss T and I made up a story about a guy on the news who just killed a family in a parking lot and was on the loose in this area. So they were freaked out. And also, Mrs. M wanted the whole story, but couldn't get it because everyone kept lying, so I said "Lydia, you were the mastermind of this whole thing, right?" and she was all proud "Yup" and we went on and got the whole story unraveled and Mrs. M heard the WHOLE truth because Lydia and Kelly had no idea she was in the back! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Finally, we got to the pizza place and Miss T and I were gonna leave Lydia and Kelly in the Jeep alone. They were scared because they believed that there really was a bad guy on the loose killing people. And when we were getting out, Mrs. M jumped out from the back and just about scared the life out of them! They. Looked. T.E.R.R.I.F.I.E.D.!!! It was the funniest thing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And that's my story. I may have left some things out, so if you've got any questions, just ask.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;By the way, a buncho people left comments in my last post saying I've been awarded and stuff. Sorry I never got to that. I don't like to blog, so I'm not on here very often. :-D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sorry you can't see the video, Mom. I'll show you when I get home. :-)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Ryann&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-7280865137907478380?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=ff604037d2745a5e&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/7280865137907478380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=7280865137907478380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/7280865137907478380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/7280865137907478380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2008/11/okay-every-peoples-im-back.html' title='Okay every peoples, I&apos;m back'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/SR7zeDs9vgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/VwwlYwAktes/s72-c/Creamed.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-6292841926528948042</id><published>2008-07-15T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T13:54:02.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just posted two entries that I wrote out last month that I had saved on my computer. I got a 2 gig usb flash drive cruiser today, so I was able to transfer those two word doc's over to this computer that has internet.&lt;br /&gt;Sooooo, I am really behind. Just go to my Mom's blog to catch up on everything. I'm not going to blog about it all. Good golly, the last two months were so full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I posted my calendar below this entry. I gotta run. I'm already bored of blogging. Not my favorite thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess, I absolutely CAN NOT wait to see you!!!! Like Mom said, under NO circumstance can  you cancel. :-D BTW, I didn't finish my shepherds pie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ryann&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-6292841926528948042?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/6292841926528948042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=6292841926528948042' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/6292841926528948042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/6292841926528948042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-just-posted-two-entries-that-i-wrote.html' title=''/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-4454586302833865728</id><published>2008-07-15T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T13:47:27.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Written 6-something-08</title><content type='html'>From IgCarrashi back to Igarashi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Monday to yesterday (Friday) I was in SC helping some awesome friends, the Carr’s, finish packing up and loading the moving truck.&lt;br /&gt;The drive to their house from ours is 3 hours long. So Mom and Coie drove me to Starbucks, Ashville. :-P The Carr’s picked me up from there. The drive with them seemed much shorter than the drive to Starbucks. We talked about lots of things that I like talking about (such as sports, like rock climbing).&lt;br /&gt;I think we got to their house around 5 or something. I can’t remember. Maybe it was earlier. We had pizza for dinner and we talked about the different ways our family members sneeze. Don’t ask me how that started. But I showed them my sneeze and I pulled a muscle just below my right rib. Great. Just what I need. I pulled muscle two days before lifting heavy furniture. Lucky for me, it pretty much went away before Uncle Richard (oh, did I tell you that we’re related somehow?) and I had to move the furniture (praise God! That would have been extremely difficult for me with a sharp pain in my side whenever I bent over or picked something up).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was sort of hard loading up all the furniture because it was 96 degrees all day and I sweat like a, um…something that sweats constantly. Aunt Shay gave me a water bottle that was twice as long as a normal W.B. and I’m supposed to get at least 2 of those everyday. The day we loaded everything I drank 4 and a half of those. I asked her if I got any credit for that and she gave me 2,000,004 points for that. I only went to the little-room 3 times that day which means I sweat it all out. Either that or pants just weren’t sweaty. :-P&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and to make things harder, the drive way is above the house so we had to carry the stuff uphill to the truck. We certainly got quite a work out.&lt;br /&gt;We didn’t have anything go wrong (like dropping the furniture) until after I noted that everything was going very well and how I was surprised that I didn’t break anything. And then we both lifted a heavy chest right in the middle of each side so it tipped and we nearly dropped it. Uncle Richard caught it with his arm and I caught it with my leg. So it didn’t hit the ground. Something always goes wrong right after I note that everything is going well. Another thing happened, but it would take too long to type out. But Aunt Shay nearly died laughing over it.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, actually, it took a day and a half to get all the furniture out. The next day was also 96. And when we finished all the work and loading, the next day we got to go swimming. That day the temperature dropped to 90 or 92. That just isn’t right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was there we went to a restaurant called Wades (I had never been there before) and that was really yummy. I wish we had one of those here in TN. And as usual, the waiter was on my head while taking our orders. I don’t know what it is, but I ALWAYS get the waiter behind me. Oh, and if there’s a 4 year old, he/she ALWAYS sits in the next chair on my left. And that happened, too. Martha Bryan sat to my left (I kept on almost calling her Johanna the entire time I was there). What’s up with that? After that we went and got ice cream. While we were enjoying that, Uncle Richard told me a blonde joke that is *SO* funny to me. Had anyone else told it to me I don’t think it would have been as funny, but the way he told it just about killed me. And I was still laughing about it 5 minutes later. And then we finished our ice cream and got in the car and I was thinking about that and I just started laughing out loud (I do that a lot-laugh at my own thoughts). It was the joke about the bus driver who lost his voice. I can’t write it down; I’d have to act it out for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another evening we went to a Mexican restaurant called Bronco’s. I had never been there before either and Mr. and Mrs. Carr were telling me about it and they said that when get back from the restaurant you smell like Bronco’s and you go “mmmmm, Bronco’s” and you smell your hair and you go “yummmmmmmm, Bronco’s” and then a couple hours later your stomach goes “oooooh, Bronco’s” (I’m literally laughing out loud right now just remembering uncle Richard acting that out for me). He’s too funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have *LOTS* I mean *TONS* more to say about my time there. But I have to get off now. I’ll write out a part 2 later. They are a very funny family and I’ve got a bunch of stories to tell. But I don’t have time right now. I also learned lots of stuff I’d like to share with you. And  I also learned stuff like ‘Southern Terms’ such as “Bless your heart”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE the Carr’s. They’re just all around cool. I miss them. But I get to see them again in August because they’re dropping off the TAN SUBURBAN!!!!!!!!! By golly I’m overly excited about that! That is so totally MINE when I get my driving permit. I claimed it first. So it’s only fair that I own it. :-P&lt;br /&gt;I need to get off in five minutes; I’ll use that time to tell one more story.&lt;br /&gt;When we went to Starbucks to drop me off, we went in and ordered some SB drinks. The half of my family that came was outside sitting with Aunt Shay and Little Richard and Emery. Uncle Richard, Martha Bryan and I waited inside for the drinks. The SB lady put one of the drinks on the counter and we didn’t pick it up right away, we just stood there and waited for the rest. And then Uncle Richard went to go open the door for Martha Bryan. So I was the only one standing there and an older guy came over and took the drink. And since I wasn’t positive that that was our drink, I didn’t say anything to him. He went and sat down. When Uncle Richard came back I quietly asked him if that guy over there had taken his drink. He didn’t even notice as first that it was missing. He turned around and goes “Oh!” and he went over to the guy and asked for it back. He didn’t do anything to it; he just put the straw in it. So they guy followed him back to the ‘waiting’ counter and kept apologizing and trying to explain how he had gotten it confused with his drink. The guy seemed embarrassed and Uncle R’s way of taking off the load of embarrassment was saying “No, that’s totally ok! But thanks for putting the straw in it!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That took longer than I thought it would. And you probably don’t think it’s as funny as I do, but that’s ok.&lt;br /&gt;:-D&lt;br /&gt;-Ryann&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-4454586302833865728?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/4454586302833865728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=4454586302833865728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/4454586302833865728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/4454586302833865728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-written-6-something-08.html' title='Blog Written 6-something-08'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652937206696033633.post-6496878654620634227</id><published>2008-07-15T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T13:43:29.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Entry written 6-6-08</title><content type='html'>So, you know how I like to be busy. But what I call ‘busy’ for me I don’t really consider busy. ‘Busy’ for me really just means ‘having lots of fun things to do in a shorter amount of time’ or ‘being social’. I am going to give a list some of my things that was done/will be done (Lord willing) like I said I would do in the last post—but I won’t get it all. This is what we would consider ‘being busy’ (having fun):&lt;br /&gt;May&lt;br /&gt;5-Drive up to Virginia for Ortho Appt. (gone for 3 and a half hours)&lt;br /&gt;18-20- At the Riser’s house&lt;br /&gt;22-24-Baby-sit &amp;amp; prepare for Preston’s stay with us&lt;br /&gt;25-31-Preston’s with us (as well as baby-sitting in between)&lt;br /&gt;June&lt;br /&gt;1-Go to Church (going to Church literally takes up over half of our Sunday—no, the service doesn’t really go on the long-I really wish it would, I’m serious, I would love that-it’s the 3 hours of driving that takes up most of it)-help in the nursery &amp;amp; have several families (over 30 kids) over to try out the zipline. (That was a busy Sunday so I counted it)&lt;br /&gt;2-Preston’s with us&lt;br /&gt;3-Preston’s depart&lt;br /&gt;4-7-Baby-sit&lt;br /&gt;9-13-At the Carr’s house helping pack&lt;br /&gt;Prepare for Grandpa’s visit somewhere in here&lt;br /&gt;20-23-Grandpa from AK visit&lt;br /&gt;26-29-Baby-sit&lt;br /&gt;July&lt;br /&gt;Prepare for Calhoun’s visit somewhere in here&lt;br /&gt;2-3-Fletchers visit&lt;br /&gt;4-6-Calhoun’s visit&lt;br /&gt;7-Go to Virginia to get off braces&lt;br /&gt;17-Go to Virginia to pick up retainer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s what’s on my calendar SO FAR. I’m hoping it’ll fill in some more. And I also might go to the Butcher’s house again to baby-sit for them sometime this month. I would be staying at the Riser’s June 12-13 to help out with the BYBC (back-yard bible club) but my Mom didn’t want to pack in more stuff on my calendar.&lt;br /&gt;So would you call that busy? What’s normal? I just LOVED May. And this month is going to be fun. But it looks like July is going to slow down. Oh! And we’ve got plans for August, too. The Carr’s are going to stay with us for some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m really excited about going to SC next week. I haven’t seen the Carr’s for over a year. I’m going to have tons of fun. I’m going to stay with them for 3 days-which will make me an IgCarrashi.&lt;br /&gt;They said that we would go horseback riding while I’m there and I haven’t done that since I was, um, hmmm, 7? I was pretty little. And I love horses (see the picture of the horse up there at the top?). The drive to SC is, I think, 3 hours. So Mom and Coie are going to drive me to Ashville (half-way) and meet Mrs. Carr at STARBUCKS (anybody like Carmel Frappaccino’s?)! And she’ll take me from there to her house. Just thought I’d let you know that our meeting place is Starbucks ‘cause I like that place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change of subject…I’m getting my braces off next month. I would think I’d be more excited about it, but I really don’t care (it’s actually kind of fun having colorful teeth-lol). In fact, it’s going to be kinda sad because all of my friends have braces. And it’s not much of a difference as far as the food I’m allowed to eat because I eat anything whether it’s on my ‘Don’t Eat’ list or not. I’m just a little more careful. Oh! That reminds me, I had a weird dream: For some reason my teeth started going back to the way they were even with my braces on. And then I realized I had a loose tooth. The next day my tooth came off but it was attached to my braces so I just had it hanging there and I was able to slide it back and forth on the wire. It was driving me nuts. And the worst part was that I had to deal with it until my next ortho appt. which wouldn’t be for another month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dream went on, but I can’t remember it all. I’m not sure where that dream came from. Certainly not from the tooth fairy…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Coie are in IL right now at a convention. They get to meet the Masloske’s (their daughter, Angela, owns the Godly Girls mag that I write for) while they’re up there. I REALLY want to meet them. Angela and I have become pretty good phone pals. I have learned that we have a lot in common. We are a LOT alike. And we think a lot alike. I almost think our brains are somehow connected. One time I REALLY wanted to call her, but I thought “No, I’ll just leave her alone because I just called her last week” and later that day she called me. And I told her about that and then she said I did the exact same thing to her. She wanted to call me but decided to leave me alone because she had just called me the week before and I ended up calling her that same day. See what I mean? Weird, I know. But it’s really cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alrighty, I’ll see if I can post this on Sunday or Monday before I leave. If I can’t then I probably won’t be able to for a while because we’ll be ‘busy’. I can’t post it now because I stay off the internet while Mom, Dad, and Coie are all gone in case they need to call me (we’re on dial-up). I guess I could call Mom and ask if I could post it now, I’ve never asked to get online while they’re gone. Nah, never mind. I’ll just wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until a break from the ‘business’,&lt;br /&gt;-Ryann&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Next post I’ll tell you guys about the Preston’s stay with us and about the zipline and stuff…that’s going to be a LONG post…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652937206696033633-6496878654620634227?l=ryannig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/feeds/6496878654620634227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652937206696033633&amp;postID=6496878654620634227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/6496878654620634227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652937206696033633/posts/default/6496878654620634227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ryannig.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-entry-written-6-6-08.html' title='Blog Entry written 6-6-08'/><author><name>RyannK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05402271593883172342</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_85_jPobxXZo/S2R3y4T29TI/AAAAAAAAAAo/b6BMBYg-9dA/S220/Biltmore.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
