Myspace graphics, blinkies, dolls

>>>

Glitter Graphics: your resource for Myspace graphics! Navigation Home Animated GIFs Avatars Backgrounds Blinkies Clipart Dividers Dolls Glitter Graphics Glitter Text Seasonal Myspace layouts User Options Login: Pass: Account Registration Quick Links F.A.Q. Links MySpace help Friendster help Xanga help Backgrounds (tip) Your #1 Resource for the coolest free Myspace graphics, blinkies, dolls and more. Animated GIFs Avatars Backgrounds Blinkies Clipart Dividers Dolls Glitter Graphics Glitter Text Seasonal News and updates Happy Holiday Season! Have a great christmas and a wonderful new year, you all! Be sure to check out the christmas , new year and seasons for Myspace images that you can use for your holiday greetings. Oh, and also: registered accounts are now active. People that registered but didn't get a confirmation email yet can contact us . Written by Madelon on December 11th, 2005. New poll for features Check out our new poll! Serhat and I are currently looking for new items to add to Glitter Graphics - and we're interested in your opinion. Should our next feature be Myspace layouts, a Glitter Text Generator, Video Codes or a forum? Written by Madelon on December 5th, 2005. Search for your perfect Myspace graphic: all themes Animated GIFs Avatars Backgrounds Blinkies Clipart Dividers Dolls Glitter Graphics Glitter Text Seasonal Latest added images Bad Pigeons Winter Let it Snow! Happy Easter Happy Easter Happy Valentine... Be mine? Happy New Year Which feature should we implement next? Myspace layouts Glitter Text Generator Video Codes Forum Top Images Kissing at... Happy new ... Happy New ... Michigan Merry Chri...

Whore Train

standing still for once who am i? Who: marti Where: metropolitan uppper midwest View Complete Profile » [ Send Email ] where you too might go to procrastinate shameless self promotion sozzled puddle the mouse says dianalysis mommy guilt premenopaws scott hutcheson the toymaker questionable sanity ujjayi friday playdate 01/10/2006 briefly 01/08/2006 what did i DO all weekend? 01/06/2006 don't worry, beaumont, big daddy will protect you 01/05/2006 the best laid plans of trees and chicks did you hear? what child said to me this morning 01/04/2006 amputee 01/03/2006 shhhhhhh 01/02/2006 thus endeth christmas break 2005 01/01/2006 finally, why i am such a proud mother uncle and plant husband and uncle cousin the hats 12/31/2005 what the crazies do on new year's eve [ Contents ] the happy jewelry whore 12/21/2005, our bedroom I am a happy jewelry whore. Let me be perfectly clear. I have not done the nasty in order to procure jewelry, specifically . I have received jewelry from Mechanical Man over the years we have been married, but never have used knowing him in the Biblical sense as a ploy to win more baubles. However, I consider myself a jewelry whore. I like jewelry, and the more the better. I am not a "more gold chains with charms" kind of girl, but I do wear two earrings in one ear and three in another, and when pressed, may have up to 8 beaded bracelets around one wrist, and three chain bracelets and a watch around the other. And, of course, my necklaces . I look at jewelry on other women (and, of course men, but there is far less and it is much less sparkly). I love, love, love diamonds, but other sparkly things catch my eye as well. Have you seen the inside front cover pages of the New York Times on Sunday? Girl, those New York women love their jewelry, too. So, it was with great excitement that I unwrapped the earring screen Felicity made for me. Oh my goodness nelly, it's a sight to see. First of all, and you can't see this in the photo, it is so pretty . She's painted it, and decorated it will little beads. Then, for organizing . roll me over and coat me in flour . all my earrings with French wires are hung in their little pairs, and all my necklaces are organized. Whoop dee do! Thank you Felic. It is beautiful. Just beautiful. The jewelry whore is very, very happy. Add/View Comments [3] child picked the menu 12/20/2005, the green kitchen Child recommended the menu for dinner tonight. Spaghetti with butter and fresh ground pepper. I asked him where he saw the recipe, and he said, "It's my recipe." I'm not a food nazi, and so if we only eat pasta dripping with butter, that is so fine with me. Because he chose it, he's in charge and we don't have to have anything else. I cannot wait until he shops for the food, too. Add/View Comments [2] why i love the internet 12/19/2005, or, how technology has become the village none of us had Thank you LightBlog Man. First of all, for being the husband of E. and the father of M. & A., who are just about the most adorable girls in the world. M. can marry Child, please. A. can roll me out to her Porsche and take me for a ride when I'm 90. Next, thank you for building me a kick-ass website. And, for giving us lightBlog. When we started down this merry website journey about a year ago, lightBlog man taunted me with an idea that I could wake up in the morning, log onto my e-mail, and it would alert me of the pieces of jewelry I had sold. All with my first cup of coffee in hand and wearing my jammies. Doesn't that sound fun? A big flipping fantasy, but fun to dream ... Then, it happened. One morning last week I logged onto my computer and "you've got cash" appeared in my inbox. [Yea, it actually says that, which is pretty exciting when you're an artist.] Someone I didn't even know ordered a necklace. I looked at the address and lo-and-behold it is around the corner from my house. Hmmmmm. I wonder who this is and how they found my site? No matter, I've got their money safely deposited in my bank, I refunded the shipping costs and went about trying to contact the buyer by e-mail so that I could deliver it. The e-mails kept bouncing back ... some problem with the address. So, being the slightly anxious and overly service oriented business woman that I am, I looked up the name and verified the address and called the homeowner so that I could deliver the product. Here's where it gets funny and small world. I deliver the necklace to the address. Turns out it's the home of the buyer's parents. Mom answer's the door. She's funny and charming, and shows me around. And, we figure out how all this works: The buyer, her son, lives in Boston. His sister-in-law lives down the street from me. I met her at the ladies luncheon I blogged about last week. She was cool, and we talked and I gave her my card, then she hooked her brother-in-law up with the site, and that's how I got the business. Can you get over this? How small IS this world? My client is in Boston, but thanks only to the woman who lives down the street. Ultimately, all thanks to lightBlog man and some necklaces and a few business cards, and of course ... My big networking chatty-assed mouth. Ha ha ha . Another day I'll blog about how Ujjayi found me through Puddle , and as a result, I'm about to get a beautiful new earring screen and necklace holder, but that's a small world for a different day! Add/View Comments [4] sing we joyous all together 12/19/2005, yesterday in the winter cold Church friends, J & C, have an annual caroling party about this time of year. On a Sunday afternoon, just before Christmas, they invite the same group of people to come for singing practice, caroling to the homes of church members who are shut in, and then back to their house for food. But, we are no ordinary singing group of carolers, mind you. We are an acapella, 4-part harmony caroling extravaganza. Our fearless leader, Fred, travels from his home hours away just to direct us and keep our tempo upbeat. We use individual copies of a music book each year in which we have memorized the page number of favorite carols. We sing only 1 or 2 secular carols, the rest being traditional Christian, honest to Jesus sing in church kinda music. And, we are good. Very, very good. Child is the human pitch pipe. He has been coming on this caroling party for as long as I can remember; he distinctly remembers singing for the past 5 years. We discovered last year or the year before that when Fred misplaced the pitch pipe in a pocket with gloves and hat and scarf, he could turn to Child and ask, "We need a b-flat." And, Child would sing a b-flat to get us started. Any note, on pitch. This past autumn a really great old gal from church died. We had sung in her garage for years because she was unable to come to church. Another fellow died the previous fall, and we had sung at his front door while he was being treated for cancer. That year we even hand delivered his favorite holiday treat, a package of lutefisk. Yesterday we visited a local care center and sang for Sig, filling the hallway outside his door with strains of Lo' How a Rose 'er Blooming , Jeg Er Saa Glad Hver Julekveld and Joy to the World , only to turn and find that three little elderly gals had come up behind us in the hall, one on a walker, and two scooting in their wheelchairs, to join us in singing. But, the most tender home we visit is the home of Adeleine and Roger. Adeleine was a child in Sunday School when our church began 76 years ago. By virtue of that, she is a charter member. Having sung in the choir for decades, Adeleine and Roger know the songs, have sung the songs, have lived the songs. A few years ago, Adeleine developed the beginning signs of Alzheimer's. Always a meticulously well-groomed woman, she decided that it would be too much for her to keep that up as the disease progressed, instead choosing to stay at home and welcome the pastor for regular visits. They came to the 75th anniversary celebration last year, but never to church. As this tragic diseased has progressed, her memory has slipped away. But, through the glass storm door yesterday her lips moved with each and every word of the carols we sang. The music is there, firmly planted in every fiber of her brain. She knew the notes, the words, the cadence. She had a choir with which to sing. Even if we had to come in the freezing cold to stand outside her door, Adeleine could sing in the choir once again. And that, Charlie Brown, is the true meaning of Christmas. Add/View Comments [5] in memory of mom and sam 12/17/2005, under the tree The train is set up and running under the tree. A family tradition going back to when my Mom and her brother were children and Grampa had a Lionel under the tree, our family can't be done decorating until a real working toy train encircles the tree. I have a photo of Sam, my step-dad, playing with the train that ran around the tree in his office. It didn't matter where a tree was set up, there had to be a train under it. He loved to buy trains and give them to anyone who didn't have one. He gave us this train many years ago. It is an LGB G (garden) guage train. We have a flat car that carries chocolates this year (rather than tiny packages per Child's wish), and a Coca-Cola car that plays an advertising jingle from years ago. It just wouldn't be Christmas without this train. Add/View Comments [1] middle of the night mommying 12/17/2005, the bathroom Child awoke me two times last night. Once, to tell me he felt better. "Good honey. Go on back to bed now." At that point, indeed he felt cooler, but not completely fever free. The next time, at 4 am, to tell me he felt better, and this time he was sweat soaked from his fever breaking. We toddled into his bedroom where I found dry warm jammies for him in the dark. Then, there came that mysterious tiny moan of "mom" and in the dark of his room I could tell ... We need to move to the bathroom quickly. He very tidily and quietly was sick to his stomach into the plastic bag lined garbage can. I put a towel on the floor under his tush, because ceramic is cold in the dark of night. I put another towel around his shoulders, because the air is cold in the house in the dark of night. I held him and the bucket until he was through. A little swish of water in his mouth, and ready to go back to bed. But before that he said in his sweet little voice, "Mom, thank you." After depositing the garbage bag in the garage, folding up the towels and washing my hands, I crawled back in bed and whispered to Husband, "Why doesn't he come to your side of the bed when that happens?" But, I knew the answer. I'm Mommy . And, sometimes, only Mommy will do. This morning he's like a new boy, fever free, just a little sore throat and headache. And, no reason to leave the house today. Add/View Comments [3] 24 hours with a good ole fever 12/16/2005, the living room sofa Child has had a fever for the past 24-hours. It came out of nowhere, as childhood illness is want to do. I spent the day going back and forth between my desk and the sofa where Child was tucked in with cable tv and an endless supply of Sierra Mist. He seems better with a little ibuprofen, then when that wears off, up goes the temp. Some of you might panic if your child ran a temp of 103. At least 101 or 102 is a normal illness temp for Child. Not surprised at high fever around here. That's our kid. So, my day was accounting chores for my business and reading blogs and learning about paying federal taxes for the biz. I didn't actually get out of my pjamas until Husband came home. That would be 3 p.m. A nice evening ahead of knitting and watching television. Tomorrow is another day at home. No Christmas Program practice for a child who's been fevering the way he has. Isn't it funny how an at home mother's "best" sick day isn't her own, but one when her child is just sick enough to be at home, but not sick enough to cause concern. We're snuggled in and recuperating. Ahhhh. Add/View Comments [1] the long christmas letter 12/15/2005, the mailbox Mother never sent the letter. I always liked reading the ones we received, but she never sent the letter. But, as a grown up ... I write the letter every damn year and send it to everyone (except this year I left it out of the pediatrician's card, 'cause I don't want to hear the lecture about Child riding on the back of my Harley) . I used to agonize over the letter until I understood the "rules" about it. **** The Rules The letter shall be short, sweet, and not overly filled with words like "prison," "cancer," or "DWI." The letter will be your happy news, with a very few details on the things you've done that might be fun if others were to try them. There will be a wish that the coming year be free of dictators and presidents living in a bubble. ***** I so do not care for the LONG letter . The long letter is any letter where the margins have been adjusted to less that .75," the type is smaller than 10 pt, or it goes over 1 page. Like a resume, the letter must not be over 1 page. The long letter has at least one individual paragraph about EACH AND EVERY person in the family, including the pets and their antics ("Muffin was impregnated by a rotweiler, and those puppies have been tearing up my yard all year long ...") and EVERYTHING they have done during the year. The long letter has more detail than you need to know about someone's colon or bunion or surgery and the inevitable outcome. In short, the long letter must go. Now, I love my friends. I read the long letter . But, I read it quickly . I look for the highlights and say quietly to myself, "my that's a long letter " then I hang it with their card on the ribbons where I hang everyone's card. God forbid the long letter comes with the ugly children photo . I'll never tell who that is. You don't know them anyhow. Amy found a "write your holiday letter kit" at Barnes and Noble while we were there to wrap gifts for a school fundraiser. The letter started with "there is no return address on our letter this year and that is for our safety and for yours because we are in the witness protection program." That's a letter. Add/View Comments [1] [ Newer ] | [ Older ]