<?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-14028371</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:05:44.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoo-rah, blogging!</title><subtitle type='html'>My pixelized, electronic thoughts, when I choose to have any...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-114643699441220452</id><published>2006-04-30T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-30T15:43:14.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey all....I've moved! You can now find my blog &lt;a href="http://jasonguthner.wordpress.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-114643699441220452?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/114643699441220452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=114643699441220452&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/114643699441220452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/114643699441220452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/04/hey-all.html' title=''/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-114574336059251244</id><published>2006-04-22T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T15:03:36.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I found it!</title><content type='html'>Friends told me about it, reviews have raved about it...heck, even my pastor told me I should get it. I've put it off until now. But this weekend, it happened. I've joined the ranks of those who are totally enthralled with it, and I'm only into it a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;It's just like when I opened up a Myspace account because everybody told me I should...except I didn't realy enjoy Myspace all that much. So, I guess that was a bad example...anyway (crickets)&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't done so already, get lost. No really, get &lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00005JNOG/ref=ase_organicchur0e-20/104-4526052-0868706?s=dvd&amp;v=glance&amp;amp;amp;n=130&amp;amp;tagActionCode=organicchur0e-20"&gt;Lost.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-114574336059251244?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/114574336059251244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=114574336059251244&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/114574336059251244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/114574336059251244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-found-it.html' title='I found it!'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-114555034827181982</id><published>2006-04-20T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T09:38:14.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/1600/Bailey4.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/320/Bailey4.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/1600/Bailey2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/320/Bailey2.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/1600/Bailey1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/320/Bailey1.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some pictures of our ugly, hairy, child-thing. Hope the next one's better :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-114555034827181982?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/114555034827181982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=114555034827181982&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/114555034827181982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/114555034827181982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/04/some-pictures-of-our-ugly-hairy-child.html' title=''/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-114486325596136350</id><published>2006-04-12T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T10:34:15.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I wear the big man daddy pants.</title><content type='html'>Yes, that's right. I'm a big man daddy. Or will be in about 9 months. We're pregnant!!!!! Now accepting advice....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-114486325596136350?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/114486325596136350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=114486325596136350&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/114486325596136350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/114486325596136350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-wear-big-man-daddy-pants.html' title='I wear the big man daddy pants.'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-113743231846193490</id><published>2006-01-16T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T09:25:18.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh?</title><content type='html'>So, I'm still trying to figure this out. I used to live here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/1600/gvwebcam_021120_2.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 116px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/200/gvwebcam_021120_2.2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/1600/5019x_640x480.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 117px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/200/5019x_640x480.2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/1600/gv24497z_800x600.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 117px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/200/gv24497z_800x600.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I live here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/1600/h50815pronghorn-mke035.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6427/1256/200/h50815pronghorn-mke035.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think I could plead insanity?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-113743231846193490?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/113743231846193490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=113743231846193490&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113743231846193490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113743231846193490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/01/huh.html' title='Huh?'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-113742204407978255</id><published>2006-01-16T06:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T06:34:04.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More moving fun...</title><content type='html'>It seems like such an easy decision to make. Marriage before money. Yet, when it comes down to it, I have found myself with an extereme lack of faith. Nellie is now eligible to move out to Texas with me, which is fantastic. What it means though is another move...one which, at the moment, I have no idea how we're going to afford. The Air Force pays for some things, alot of things, actually, but not everything. I've let this get into my brain, and now, I actually found myself pitting the options against each other. What's 5 more months, right? Wrong.  Marriage certainly wasn't intended to be spent this way. I called Nellie yesterday and told her I didn't care about the finances...she was coming out ASAP. The dorms are driving me crazy. I told myself I was done with dorms when I left college and with roommates when I got married. Wrong on both accounts. So, if you think about us, throw up a prayer or two as we try to acclimate ourselves to what could become a lifestyle for the next, oh, 19 1/2 years or so. &lt;br /&gt;By the way, Bob, if you read this. I had a dream last night and you were in it. You were an action hero. It was quite comical. Someday I will invent the device that allows people to record their dreams like TiVO. I wanna see how many people straight up lie about their dreams. Probably alot of them. But I'm serious about Bob. No kidding. Action hero. Cheesy lines and everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-113742204407978255?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/113742204407978255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=113742204407978255&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113742204407978255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113742204407978255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/01/more-moving-fun_16.html' title='More moving fun...'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-113722836868476737</id><published>2006-01-14T00:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-14T00:46:08.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More bad ideas...</title><content type='html'>History has proven it. I've seen it personally. And yet, I just don't seem to get it. Beer and kareoke just don't mix. The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-113722836868476737?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/113722836868476737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=113722836868476737&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113722836868476737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113722836868476737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/01/more-bad-ideas.html' title='More bad ideas...'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-113683453088308540</id><published>2006-01-09T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T11:22:16.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Web of lies! (And feet)</title><content type='html'>I just discovered that one of my roommates has webbed feet. That is utterly fantastic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-113683453088308540?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/113683453088308540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=113683453088308540&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113683453088308540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113683453088308540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/01/web-of-lies-and-feet.html' title='Web of lies! (And feet)'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-113683053596532467</id><published>2006-01-09T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T10:16:23.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gettin back in the groove</title><content type='html'>I'm starting to reconnect with people. I kinda dropped off the scene there for awhile. One by one I'm finding people. I'm calling, writing, finding people online...it's nice to begin to feel like a normal person that has friends again. I was really cut off from everyone when I was in Basic, and now that I have a bit more freedom to talk to my friends, I feel like everybody has changed. Actually, it is probably me that has changed. Everyone else is probably (for the most part) the same. I look at things differently now. Civilians are so odd. They process things with  whole different mindset. Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging them in a bad way, it just seems like this experience is helping to expose me to a bigger picture. Believe me, I'm not "buying in" to everything by any means. I don't have to like the people in charge to be able to do my job well. I don't even have to necessarily like what it is that I'm doing. (Luckily, for the Air Force and me, I do so far) I believe that I can be excellent regardless of leadership or peer failure.&lt;br /&gt;In other news, school is already grueling, as is my new schedule, which I'll be on for the next 6 months.  Monday through Friday I go to class from 1430 (that's 2:30PM for all you yahoos) till about 2330 or midnight.  Monday, Wednesday and Friday I have  physical fitness from 0930 till 1130. About the only free time we have is the weekends, but luckily for us,  they are totally free. This coming weekend will be the first I'm able to get off base on civilian clothes, so I'm looking forward to that.  Nellie should be moving out here with me in the next few weeks...that will be a huge plus. I'm sick of this dorm life stuff. I thought I was done with it when I left college and got married. I'm pretty sure this isn't the way that marriage was intended to be spent...apart.  She's doing alright, just spending time with her family, but I think they're all driving each other slowly insane.  I would hate to think what would happen if you took me away from my wife and threw me back in my parents house along with my older sister, who's also been on her own for about 10 years (Nellie's got an older brother that's also living with them at the moment) and tried to make us a "family" again.  Not that we're  not still family, but we interact differently now. I'ts intended to be that way. Anyway,  off to iron my uniform and get ready for class...2 mini tests today, one tomorrow and then a big one on Wednesday...time to study.&lt;span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Add_Image" title="Add Image" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="addImage();" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);;ButtonMouseDown(this);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-113683053596532467?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/113683053596532467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=113683053596532467&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113683053596532467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113683053596532467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2006/01/gettin-back-in-groove.html' title='Gettin back in the groove'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-113618249838821247</id><published>2005-12-31T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T12:30:12.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch</title><content type='html'>You don't realize how much something affects you until you're seperated from it. Nellie and I were having breakfast at a Denny's this morning on the Strip and we were stopped by a homeless man just outside the door. He mumbled something, and I didn't understand him until after I heard myself say "no". He was asking everyone that went in if they would buy him a decent meal. He didn't even ask for money. He just wanted a decent meal. Nellie looked at me sideways and said "It has been a long time since you've been to &lt;a href="http://www.evergreenlife.org/web/boards/"&gt;Evergreen&lt;/a&gt;, hasn't it." Ouch. I changed our table to accommodate 3, and went back outside to find the man. He was gone. I've spent the rest of my day not believeing that I actually denied someone a hot meal. I've let myself get seperated from the Word lately, and it's really showing through in my actions and mindsets. I crave the community I've left behind, and I miss it for what it meant to me, but I realize that it is I who is ultimately held accountable. I have to acknowledge that I failed to "do it to the least of these" today and that blows. God have mercy on me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-113618249838821247?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/113618249838821247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=113618249838821247&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113618249838821247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113618249838821247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/12/ouch.html' title='Ouch'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-113618239668649520</id><published>2005-12-30T22:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T21:22:32.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The blog lives!</title><content type='html'>Hello, blog. Sorry for the three month hiatus. I've been a little busy as of late, with boot camp and all. I'm sure you understand. I'd be willing to bet that you're not the most forgotton chunk of bytes on the web.&lt;br /&gt;Life is much changed for me now. I wasn't sure that I would change that much just by going through basic. I was wrong. It challenged me on every level possible and broke me down in many ways, only to build up new things in their place. I look at people differently now. "Civilian life" is a strange concept to me, and I'm not quite sure that I actually lived it for the better part of 24 years. People close to me tell me that I look different, talk much differently and have a new world view. I hope they're right. You don't see change in yourself when it's a slow, gradual metamophosis. You just see yourself everyday as being you. You go to sleep on your smaller-than-single, hard as a rock, no pillow havin' bed and reflect on the day. You think about how much you suck at drill, or how much you hate pushups. You think about how much you detest hearing that stupid trumpet song every single freakin morning at 0445. Then, you think about how much longer this all lasts. First, 6 weeks seems like an eternity. Then, as you get used to the routine, it just becomes one day at a time, and you can always handle one day, because no matter how much that day sucks, it ends when the lights turn off. I will always remember what I was told by a 6th weeker the first day I was there: This doesn't get easier, you just get better at it. That turned out to be true. At the end of it all, when I stood on the bomb run dressed in my blues, surrounded by my flight, 500 other graduates, my instructors, and my family, I thought to myself "You know, I've gotten pretty good at this whole thing." I really thought I had their little system all figured out. I had arrived. I was mistaken.&lt;br /&gt;Three days later, when I left that base and took a 9-hour bus trip to tech school, all those notions were eviscerated. It's the wierdest thing...you arrive at boot camp in your civies (civilian clothes) and everybody else is in their BDU's. You can't wait to get your BDU's because you stick out like a sore thumb and everybody yells at you. You get your BDU's the first week and then you see a class in their blues. Man, you can't wait to get your blues. They look so sharp and you know what blues mean: graduation. Finally, that last week, you get your blues. You're on top of the world. You're finally getting out of there, other classes are looking up to you like gods, you might even see your T.I. smile at you once. Then comes graduation. Proudest moment of your life. Or at least it should be on the top 3. You go through all the pomp and circumstance, your family cries, you get to go off base, the whole 9 yards. Then, 2 days later, you take a little trip. You're going to tech school...the promised land of sorts. You're pumped. You're heard all the rumors and strories and hope that half of them are true. You roll off that bus and...immediately start getting yelled at. You have terrible flashbacks to basic. You're in your blues and realize that nobody else is. You can't wait to get into your civies. Heck, you can't wait to get into your BDU's, just so you don't stick out like a sore thumb and have everybody yell at you. At tech school, everybody wears blues on Mondays, just so we don't forget how, I think. Other than that, if you're wearing your blues, it means you're in trouble and you're going to stand in front of the commander. Not fun stuff. So, you can see how they jack with your mind. Just about the time you think you've got things figured out, they slap you upside the head and laugh at you as you stumble around like a dizzy blindfolded kid swinging at a pinata.&lt;br /&gt;So I've sort of settled into another routine here at school. I've been here for about a month and have just now started classes. I've been on what they call "casual status" for the last 3 weeks. Basically that means I'm a grunt worker from 0530 till about 1600 six days a week. Cleaning up the squadron area, sweeping, hauling, whatever they need done. It sucks. I finally got off that and started classes on the 21st. Odd, since holiday exodus started on the 22nd. I had 5 hours of class and then got released for 2 weeks. Chances of me remembering anything when I get back = slim. I can't wait for classes to start back up though. I'm gonna learn some pretty sweet stuff. I'll have access to all kinds of classified information about every military action since WW2. Unfortunately, I won't be able to talk about any of it till I turn 94. There's a 70 year clause they make us sign. Man, if I can still think straight when I'm 94, I'm getting a book deal.&lt;br /&gt;Well I promised my sweet wife I wouldn't be stuck in front of this thing all day, but thought it important to update my virtual fan club (yeah, right) on my how-goings. If you're one of my "Portland People" as I call you, I offer to you my apologies. I never really got to say goodbye to any of you. Mostly because we didn't know that God would have us living somewhere else come the holidays. I was fully anticipating spending Christmas with y'all in the NW, but alas...other plans had been made. Instead, I'm spending it in 70-degree weather, trying to wrap my mind around the idea of living in a place I've never been and calling it home. This is the first year that I haven't been around my family for the holidays, and that's tough too. C'est la vie. I will be coming back to P-town in June or July for 2 weeks, after graduation, and before we get stationed in Omaha, so until then...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-113618239668649520?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/113618239668649520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=113618239668649520&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113618239668649520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/113618239668649520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/12/blog-lives.html' title='The blog lives!'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112902870232103663</id><published>2005-10-11T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T04:05:02.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmmm</title><content type='html'>It's a strange feeling to have run out of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112902870232103663?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112902870232103663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112902870232103663&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112902870232103663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112902870232103663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/10/hmmmm.html' title='hmmmm'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112891260547502438</id><published>2005-10-09T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T19:50:55.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>freakin</title><content type='html'>Gettin' nervous, with only a little less than 36 hours left till departure. To all who read this and care, please look after my better half while I'm gone. Don't let her slip through the cracks. Thanks. Thank you, my community for your support. Thank you, my family for your acceptance of my decision. Thank you, my wife for unending patience with me and loving me every day. I will do my very best for all of you while I'm away. Keep me in your prayers and write often...Nellie will be posting up my address on the forum as soon as I know it and can make a phone call. (Probably 2 weeks or so) Love you all dearly. Blog, I'll see you in a couple months. Till then...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112891260547502438?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112891260547502438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112891260547502438&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112891260547502438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112891260547502438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/10/freakin.html' title='freakin'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112676786933513824</id><published>2005-09-14T23:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T00:04:29.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>get your grammar correct</title><content type='html'>So, driving through my old hometown of Seaside, OR, a while ago, I see a sign. As most of you have probably seen on the news, the Oregon coast is innundated with drug houses, specifically, meth labs. Supposedly, the state has been cracking down on this problem. To raise public awareness, they're sort of trying to emulate the "Neighborhood Watch" idea. So, back to the sign. As you enter city limits, it says "Welcome to Seaside: An Meth Watch Community." I thought it was funny. C'mon....an meth watch community???&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm formatting my hard drive tonight, so if no one sees me online for days, call me...there must have problems&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--27 days&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112676786933513824?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112676786933513824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112676786933513824&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112676786933513824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112676786933513824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/09/get-your-grammar-correct.html' title='get your grammar correct'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112662933763370072</id><published>2005-09-13T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T09:35:38.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>countdown</title><content type='html'>If you only had a month or so to do things with people you may never see again, you start freaking out about all the things you never got to do. So, from now on, I'm going to start working on &lt;a href="http://brass612.tripod.com/cgi-bin/things.html"&gt;this list.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--28 days&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112662933763370072?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112662933763370072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112662933763370072&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112662933763370072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112662933763370072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/09/countdown.html' title='countdown'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112650636819433841</id><published>2005-09-11T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T23:26:08.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sunday bloody sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I love Sunday afternoons. They almost always involve good friends, good wine, great food and conversation. Things that I’m beginning to value more and more as my departure date draws nearer. (Exactly one month from today.) Today, we made our own gyros with freshly cooked lamb, tzatziki and pita. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I’ll miss this view of downtown Portland from William’s apartment. I’ll miss throwing 6-course meals with lobster bisque, beef tri-tip fondue and antipasto. Listening to the soundtrack from “Jesus Christ, Superstar” and eating ice cream with fresh berries. Watching my dog sleep. Beer &amp; smokes at the Brass. At least 3 friends that are always just a phone call away, 24 hours a day. Fishing. Waiting tables. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;I’m going to miss most of football season. That really bugs me. We already get the shortest season in pro sports anyway, and then to make me miss all but the first 4 weeks of it is just cruel. Oh well, my Falcons will have to wait one more season to win the Superbowl. As they say, “There’s always next season”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112650636819433841?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112650636819433841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112650636819433841&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112650636819433841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112650636819433841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/09/sunday-bloody-sunday.html' title='sunday bloody sunday'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112552362859884557</id><published>2005-08-31T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T14:51:46.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>will there be opus one in heaven?</title><content type='html'>Oh. My. Goodness.&lt;br /&gt;I'm convinced I've found the mecca of all good things, and it's name is &lt;a href="http://www.cinetopiatheaters.com/"&gt;Cinetopia.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conveniently located where? Less than 10 miles from my house. It could have been anywhere. Georgia, for instance. But it's not in Georgia. It's by my house. Any place you can watch a movie in overstuffed italian leather recliners while you hear everything in surround sound, drink a glass of Opus One and munch on fine european fruits and cheeses has to be amazing. Must go soon. See what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Oregonian&lt;/span&gt; had to say about it &lt;a href="http://www.oregonlive.com/search/index.ssf?/base/entertainment/1124273137320390.xml?oregonian?alfs&amp;amp;coll=7"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112552362859884557?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112552362859884557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112552362859884557&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112552362859884557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112552362859884557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/08/will-there-be-opus-one-in-heaven.html' title='will there be opus one in heaven?'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112438213017966984</id><published>2005-08-18T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T09:23:04.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>death</title><content type='html'>Death blows. It takes people you like to be around and makes it so you can't be around them anymore. Nellie and I both had one within our families this last week, one day apart. Neither were immediate family, but the hurt is there nonetheless. Nellie's grandfather passed away on Monday, and my great-aunt on Tuesday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112438213017966984?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112438213017966984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112438213017966984&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112438213017966984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112438213017966984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/08/death.html' title='death'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112357041928869787</id><published>2005-08-08T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T23:54:46.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the brass</title><content type='html'>So, when you're sitting down at one of your &lt;a href="http://horsebrass.com/"&gt;favorite haunts&lt;/a&gt; and you see a small white mouse run across the floor, you naturally speak up. When the waitress says "Oh, you mean you haven't seen them in here before?" you have two choices:&lt;br /&gt;1. Run, don't walk, out the door&lt;br /&gt;2. Size up the situation and convince yourself that the last Scotch Egg you had was really just egg and sausage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decision made. I'll take another Gorby's please, Jill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112357041928869787?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112357041928869787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112357041928869787&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112357041928869787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112357041928869787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/08/brass.html' title='the brass'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112351455016819567</id><published>2005-08-08T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-09T10:33:24.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>commodore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.routergod.com/ccnabootcamp/hartman_gets_in_the_face_of_a_ccna_recruit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.routergod.com/ccnabootcamp/hartman_gets_in_the_face_of_a_ccna_recruit.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64 days from now, I will get on a plane and fly to Texas. I won't see anyone I know or love for 7 weeks. There will be no Nellie, no Evergreen, no hand drums and no happy hour specials. On the upside though, there &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; be 6-mile runs at 0430 hours, pushups till I puke, people screaming in my face and bad food, albeit free bad food. Life will become radically different overnight. How will I react? Tough to say. It's definitely starting to become a reality now instead of something I'll be doing....sometime. These next 2 months are filled with so many things I need to do, people I need to see one last time, experiences I need to have. How do I fit it all in?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112351455016819567?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112351455016819567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112351455016819567&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112351455016819567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112351455016819567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/08/commodore.html' title='commodore'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112348208903833988</id><published>2005-08-07T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-07T23:21:29.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>roar</title><content type='html'>Why can't I blog? I've discovered I think more in my head now, but can't articulate it through my fingers. And I've been grumpy too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112348208903833988?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112348208903833988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112348208903833988&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112348208903833988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112348208903833988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/08/roar.html' title='roar'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112226948451926238</id><published>2005-07-24T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T22:33:37.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hiatus</title><content type='html'>Took a little break from blogging. Took a vacation. Went camping. Caught fish. Got to know some really good people. Ate well. Slept on the ground. Drank beer. Ate really well. Drank alot of beer.&lt;br /&gt;Camping at Timothy lake was a blast. Nellie and I went over there with William, Sean &amp; Betsy, and Shannon, a guy I work with. Got there Tuesday morning, left Thursday night, so we didn't really have that much time, but it was well spent. William caught his very first fish. He caught 4 or 5, actually. Quite an accomplishment for a Southern California boy raised by 2 women. Not 2 women like in the "Some children have two mommies" thing, more of the grandmother/mother tag team.&lt;br /&gt;I am more convinced than ever that I am immune to poison oak. I tromped through gobs of it and am doin' fine. Luckily I won't end up looking like &lt;a href="http://www.poison-ivy.org/rash/rash-1.htm"&gt;this guy&lt;/a&gt;. (Warning....kinda gnarly)&lt;br /&gt;Sean &amp;amp; Betsy are really cool people. Right after we got back from camping, Nellie came down with the flu really bad. Betsy called Nellie just to chat and when they found out Nellie was sick, they came out to Vancouver (from Beaverton!) and brought her soup, crackers, bread, popsicles, and 2 huge bins of DVD's for her to pick through and watch. Wow. Most people just say "hope you feel better".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112226948451926238?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112226948451926238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112226948451926238&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112226948451926238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112226948451926238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/07/hiatus.html' title='hiatus'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112050582442202468</id><published>2005-07-04T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T12:38:50.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>one year</title><content type='html'>Wow...one year being married goes by fast. Nellie and I had our one year anniversary on July 2nd, and it's amazing how many things changed, and how many things haven't. It has done away with alot of pre-concieved ideas of what it would be like. So many things that people tell you to expect that haven't happened....yet. It has been an incredible journey and knowing there is so much more to come and be discovered is exciting. Shared life, in it's deepest form, is a really wild thing. Being responsible for another human being, having my choices affect her, really makes me reconsider alot of things. Before, I was used to having "my own" time, money and friends. Now, I am forced to grapple with the consequences of making choices as they pertain to another person. Everything I do has an effect on her, and that's pretty cool. Not in a power trip kind of way, but rather in the way that makes me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to do the right thing. To make right choices for myself was one thing, and very difficult at that. To make right choices for us is a whole different set of processes. Even more difficult sometimes. Most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;One year ago, I was Las Vegas, sicker than a dog that was really sick, (wedding reception food poisoning) discovering the joys of being with the woman who I will spend the rest of my life with. We watched fireworks from the Stratosphere, we played blackjack together, we walked many miles in 105 degree weather, feeling our cheap flip-flops literally melt to our feet. She shaved her head. It was a blast.&lt;br /&gt;Today, she's really sick. We're still discovering the joys of being with the person that we'l be with for the rest of our lives. We'll watch fireworks at the Sumner community house. We'll barbeque together. Probably no blackjack or melting sandals, but some things have to change. It'll be a blast. Hopefully no food poisoning this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112050582442202468?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112050582442202468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112050582442202468&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112050582442202468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112050582442202468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/07/one-year.html' title='one year'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112020091223467108</id><published>2005-06-30T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T23:57:41.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the boost</title><content type='html'>So awhile back, one of the guys I work with and I came up with an idea. We'd both been in management for some time and had struck up a conversation regarding our observations about what affected our employees and their work habits/attitude/ethic. At the last job I managed, the company had me come up in front of all my new employees and "say a few words". Here's what I said:&lt;br /&gt;1. Always, and I mean without fail, carry a wine key, pen, paper, a lighter and at least $20 in small bills and coin. This will take you far in life.&lt;br /&gt;2. I don't care what you have to re-arrange in your schedule, before you come to work, listen to at least one full song of whatever it takes to put you in "that mood".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, the second item is the one I'm focusing on here. As the conversation evolved, we decided it would be fascinating to do an organized study, based on observation, of what people were listening to, how it affected them, and how it affected those around them. Taking it a step farther, we would have everyone keep track of the music they were hearing, and once a week or so, we would burn a compilation of all their selections and distribute it among everyone, so that they could get a feel for what their peers were listening to. Sort of interesting, although it seems alot less cool now that I explain it in words. Anyway, we'd call it "The Boost".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112020091223467108?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112020091223467108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112020091223467108&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112020091223467108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112020091223467108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/06/boost.html' title='the boost'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112017427623057606</id><published>2005-06-30T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T09:30:05.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>downward spiral</title><content type='html'>It seems like everytime I get to a point in life where I think I'm doing allright, God picks me up and drop-kicks me to the curb. I hate this pattern....extreme swings....mountains and valleys....is not there some equilibrium to be found? This blows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112017427623057606?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112017427623057606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112017427623057606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112017427623057606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112017427623057606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/06/downward-spiral.html' title='downward spiral'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112005900645254046</id><published>2005-06-29T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T08:33:32.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>progress</title><content type='html'>I've been doing a lot of thinking about the idea of progression lately. Are we advancing as a society, a community, people in general, or are we simply re-discovering things that generations before us have experienced? It seems that every generation thinks that they are seeing things that no one else has ever seen, be it war, drugs, or the way kids are dressing and talking. It seems that in every generation, we lose most of what we would consider our history, and start from ground zero, totally having to learn on our own, instead of harvesting the rich crop of experience that has been laid down before us. We often lose sight of our heritage (not in the flag flying, red white &amp; blue, e plurbus unum kinda way) and in that we run the risk of perpetuating our problems and shortcomings. We also face the possibility that we could succeed. I'm not sure which is scarier to me.&lt;br /&gt;I was reading Second Peter this morning, and he lays out a progression. He starts with faith. Gotta have it. It's foundational. At this juncture, it can still be misguided, but it has to be there. Once established, add goodness. Do what you believe to be the right thing. In faith. Then add knowledge. Become more informed as to what the right thing is. Add self-control so that you can be more effective, using calculated techniques and efforts to do the right thing. Throw in perseverance so that you can keep doing the right thing for longer periods of time.&lt;br /&gt;Once you're here, you're doing the best thing you know how to do, for as long as you can possibly do it, with the faith that something good will come out of it. This is where I find myself most often. Just sort of blindly doing what I think to be the right thing. Then it's interesting what the next step is. Add godliness. From the greek "eusebeia" which is simply talking about a reverence and respect for God. Now, you're doing your best, in light of your respect for God, which really changes things. Now, we're supposed to add brotherly kindness, the love that we as Chrsitians have for each other, and take everything else into consideration against that. Last, but not least, add love. The rounder, if you will. This adds completeness the mix. Can't quite explain that yet. Anyway, what's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; intersting is this: &lt;blockquote&gt;"If you possess these qualities in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;increasing measure&lt;/span&gt;, they will keep you from being inneffective and unproductive in your knowledge of Jesus Christ. But if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotton that he has been cleansed from his past sins."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;So, is there really progression? I think so. Can there really be true progress? Yes. In order to stay on track, I have to get that whole "increasing measure" thing down though. No stagnation. Constant progress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112005900645254046?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112005900645254046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112005900645254046&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112005900645254046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112005900645254046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/06/progress.html' title='progress'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-112003075615938898</id><published>2005-06-29T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T08:32:58.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what a day</title><content type='html'>I was the closing server at work tonight. You know when you get a table at 4 minutes to closing that it's gonna be a long night....but I was not prepared for these particular people. I'd like to belive that as an experienced purveyor of food and drink, I would behave differently if I were to walk in to a place and knew they were in the act of locking their doors. Some things you just hope are common sense. Apparantly not. Things got really good when they asked me if we acccepted food stamps or the Oregon Trail Card. Then they broke up, complete with sobbing, ad naseum, and all hell was unleashed. It got ugly. Almost 2 hours later they asked if they were keeping me. As I stood there twiddling my thumbs, caught in the conflict of being honest, yet ever-considerate, something dawned on me. The best thing I could possibly do for these people would be to be honest with them. So I said that I was done with all my sidework and that when they left, I could go home. I was still nicer than I could have been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-112003075615938898?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/112003075615938898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=112003075615938898&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112003075615938898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/112003075615938898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/06/what-day.html' title='what a day'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14028371.post-111999947218438802</id><published>2005-06-28T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T15:57:52.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my first post</title><content type='html'>As I sit in Coffee People on the corner of SW 6th avenue and Washington, I ponder what topic I will breach for my first blogging experience. It's kinda scary, putting things out there for the whole world (wide web) to see. I just logged on to the Evergreen Forum and read the blog post and it seems almost like I'm just hopping on the bandwagon now, which is not at all acurate, since I logged on to have my own blog before I read the post. Anyway, I work way too much to keep this up, so entries will probably be few and far between. This is actually not as scary as I thought it would be. It's actually very calming. Sort of like talking in really slow motion. Well, at least it is if you say the word in your head as you type it. I do that. The girl sitting next to me in CP with headphones on keeps trying to look over at my screen. Maybe if she reads that I'm typing about her, she'll stop looking. Nope, still looking. I don't like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the opportunity to spend a day and a half in Walla Walla last weekend doing wine tasting. It was amazing. If you like wine, here's some of the standouts we tasted:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.springvalleyvineyard.com/"&gt;Spring Valley Vineyard's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Uriah&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Frederick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lecole.com/wines_blend.htm"&gt;L'Ecole Vineyard's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Apogee&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Perigee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://woodwardcanyon.com/"&gt;Woodward Canyon's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Old Vines&lt;/span&gt; and Artist series&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kvintners.com/"&gt;K Vintner's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Boy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we tasted all day on Saturday, I spent Sunday morning playing 18 holes of golf. I'm terrible at golf. Really bad. It was almost as frustrating as it was enjoyable. Especially since we joined with another twosome and I got my butt handed to me by a 13 year-old boy. He asked me what my handicap was (I had no idea what that meant) and found it amusing when I replied with "golf, apparently". This is something that I would love to do more regularly. If you golf often, and you're really bad, call me next time and we'll hack together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever get a really obnoxious muscle twitch that you can't stop? I've got one right now in my hand, and it's really impeding my typing. Girl with headphones is still reading my screen. At least it appears that my life interests someone. Hoo-ray. Apparently it's contaigious, this looking-at-someone-else's-screen disease. I just found myself glancing back at hers between sentences. Shame on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally taking time to read Sun Tzu's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0762415983/qid=1119999183/sr=8-1/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-2512264-3559110?v=glance&amp;s=books&amp;amp;n=507846"&gt;Art of War&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; Fascinating stuff, really, and a quick read at that. Highly reccomended. It reads like hundreds of little fortune cookies about life and strategies of leadership. I notice many paralells to certain communities that I call myself apart of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have now blogged.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14028371-111999947218438802?l=jasonguthner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/feeds/111999947218438802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14028371&amp;postID=111999947218438802&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/111999947218438802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14028371/posts/default/111999947218438802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jasonguthner.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-first-post.html' title='my first post'/><author><name>jason</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06768363084298502104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://myspace-137.vo.llnwd.net/00665/73/18/665648137_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
