<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791740691018430394</id><updated>2008-03-31T22:43:29.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Enlightening Thoughts</title><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thefleenors.com/blog/'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6791740691018430394/posts/default'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thefleenors.com/blog/atom.xml'/><author><name>Kelly Davis Fleenor</name></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791740691018430394.post-8913820829442038180</id><published>2008-03-31T21:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T22:43:29.725-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sucker...</title><content type='html'>What is it about the dollar section that greets me everytime I enter the front door of Target? Yes, my face glows with excitement (and annoyance) at the prospect of discovering an inexpensive little something something (a little something something I definitely do not need).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take today for instance. After a weekend spent in the nursery trying to comfort my ill son, I decided some fresh air would do both of us some good (actually a nap would work for me but my handsome son has an adversion to me sleeping) so off to Target we went...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let me explain my love/hate relationship with Target's dollar section. As a Communications major, I am well aware of product placement ploys, yet that stupid dollar section reels me in anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, back to our Target field trip. Did I find any treasures? Why yes I did, thank you for inquiring! I found the cutest butterfly nets and threw two into our basket (Harry, now napping, and I decide we need to plant a butterfly bush this summer so he can hunt butterflies), little terra cotta pots filled with flower seeds (ooh, I need twelve and think it is time to plan a garden party to use darling pots as placecards/party favors), and pink/green polka dot note cards (threw three into basket). My dollar treasures (now totaling way more than a lovely lunch at Toast on Market) will make wonderful hostess gifts or party favors. I pray no one reading my futile blog receives one of my Target dollar finds as a gift - could cause me to request a bloody mary, hold the tomato juice if you know what I mean.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thefleenors.com/blog/2008/03/sucker.html' title='Sucker...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6791740691018430394&amp;postID=8913820829442038180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thefleenors.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6791740691018430394/posts/default/8913820829442038180'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6791740691018430394/posts/default/8913820829442038180'/><author><name>Kelly Davis Fleenor</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791740691018430394.post-5531760225979073947</id><published>2008-03-17T10:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T11:10:31.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The 80's</title><content type='html'>Time to confess ladies, Jake Ryan is still on your top 5 list (I even own an "I heart Jake Ryan" t-shirt, thanks to my dear friend Tess, that I absolutely adore and cherish).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what is it about the 80's that puts a smile on my face and a swing in my hips (as a side note: hips currently shaking to "We Got the Beat" by the darling GoGo's)? Is it the realization that I am now someone's mother (and I could just eat up my handsome son in all his cuteness)? A longing for the days of a more simple time when the only major decision I had to make was how many Swatch watches to wear on my left arm (please do not bring back what I consider the worst fashion decade of all time)? Whatever! All I know is how much fun I had last weekend regurgitating every single line (if I was not crying with laughter - Joan Cusack trying to drink from the water fountain is priceless) while watching "Sixteen Candles" and turning into putty during the "make a wish" scene - much to Wayne's delight since he now has yet another colorful characteristic of mine to add to his "Kelly is crazy" list. How is it that I can remember every line from this classic (yes, I said it, classic) movie and cannot remember my own cell number?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update: iPod now playing "Red, Red Wine." Now, this song brings back some memories, memoreis I will not share with my parents or my son! Oh my, I am now that parent hiding her past from her children and painting a picture of absolute perfect Southern charm and manners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, off to continue my very cool 80's jam session and burn a few post-preggie calories - bathing suit weather is quickly approaching and I would just die if Harry confused me with our blow up whale float. Now that would increase my spicy Bloody Mary consumption!</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thefleenors.com/blog/2008/03/80s.html' title='The 80&apos;s'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6791740691018430394&amp;postID=5531760225979073947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thefleenors.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6791740691018430394/posts/default/5531760225979073947'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6791740691018430394/posts/default/5531760225979073947'/><author><name>Kelly Davis Fleenor</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791740691018430394.post-4077613164446318968</id><published>2008-03-17T09:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T09:26:05.032-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Enlightening Thoughts</title><content type='html'>From time to time (read: all the time), I have thoughts, stories, and/or notions to share with family and friends. So, instead of endless calling or composing possible unwanted emails (although I doubt any family/companions would ignore my means of communication) I fashioned a personal blog for y'all to visit at your own free will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, off to the kitchen you go to prepare a delicious bite and a spicy Bloody Mary before settling in to read what I am sure will be an embarrassing guilty pleasure (like the hours I spend watching Bravo's Real Housewives of Orange County). Did I just publicly admit that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tata...</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thefleenors.com/blog/2008/03/enlightening-thoughts.html' title='Enlightening Thoughts'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6791740691018430394&amp;postID=4077613164446318968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thefleenors.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6791740691018430394/posts/default/4077613164446318968'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6791740691018430394/posts/default/4077613164446318968'/><author><name>Kelly Davis Fleenor</name></author></entry></feed>