<?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-324868464769744342</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:29:51.276-07:00</updated><category term='the husband'/><category term='married life'/><title type='text'>Thomas &amp; Tatanjia</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324868464769744342.post-478554205938238345</id><published>2011-12-19T20:07:00.014-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T22:19:55.933-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='married life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the husband'/><title type='text'>My knee and my heart are connected.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HvoMypewvgQ/Tu_9DsTyCKI/AAAAAAAAAmc/yStERnA-O9w/s1600/dec%2B18%2B2011%2Bleg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HvoMypewvgQ/Tu_9DsTyCKI/AAAAAAAAAmc/yStERnA-O9w/s200/dec%2B18%2B2011%2Bleg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688043094267791522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I laid in an MRI machine for quite some time today...I got hurt last weekend and unfortunately it's progressing into a situation I'm a little concerned about.  I have a blood clotting disorder that has caused some problems over the course of my life....thankfully I know about it now...but that doesn't make the reality of it any easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell last week while doing some winter photography.  I went down hard and my knee took the brunt of it. I got right back up and kept going, but as is sometimes the case- things have developed out of my control and now I have to contend with the outcome. I have multiple hematomas in my leg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are putting me on blood thinners and monitoring me daily to try to work through it so I don't throw a clot and stroke out, or worse. I'm a little tense about it all but I'm trying to just lie here and relax and let what will be, be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laid there in that MRI today, and wished for someone in particular, Tommy. Tried not to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sDNaSYZSbQw/Tu__tQTMphI/AAAAAAAAAm0/Y8j8HS-VE2U/s1600/hematoma%2Bknee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 186px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sDNaSYZSbQw/Tu__tQTMphI/AAAAAAAAAm0/Y8j8HS-VE2U/s200/hematoma%2Bknee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688046007326909970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wished for him to hold my hand and just be there. He can't do anything about what I'm facing or dealing with, but I got to where I could handle anything with him beside me, and then he wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still wake up expecting his black hair on the pillows next to me and I still expect to walk into my kitchen most mornings and find him making coffee and with his laptop. He's part of me. It just is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems ironic that with all I've done in the last year to get healthy and strong, and drop weight....something as small as a gene or a chromosome may be enough to just nullify all of that, and get me in the end, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tried, gently, to extend the love and devotion I still have, to Tom after some time passed and things have had a chance too cool between us to where we're not so angry with one another. I have not done so very successfully, I've not cracked the surface, I guess. He's still quite angry with me. I understand that, and I understand why. I forgive him, and I forgive me. That wasn't easy, but I did so, and I accept that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z6UfMtZffKo/TvAAJzEzliI/AAAAAAAAAnA/JqPsrxR0KYw/s1600/kneecrossmri.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 188px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z6UfMtZffKo/TvAAJzEzliI/AAAAAAAAAnA/JqPsrxR0KYw/s200/kneecrossmri.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688046497698125346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can't say I blame him for how he feels...I know him...he's a rock. He used to be MY rock--- what I always went to when I wasn't strong enough myself. I guess that's why I wish he was here now to just sit beside me and be here. Nothing more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know his core, so I know it's not all rock--- and I know he's avoiding me entirely because if he says one word to me, lets in one emotion about me, I know what he is inside and I know he's afraid of me- because we are one, still, in many ways. I still love him, anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't want to let me in just like I don't want to think about throwing a clot and having a stroke at 39, or dying in my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality kind of sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that aside, I need to put something out there now. Something in addition to the letter I wrote before.  Nobody really expects to have bad things happen, so those sudden losses are harder. I face that reality daily now. Tomorrow, may not come for me. Today is what I have, make the most of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been put on blood thinners and daily/constant monitoring because of the hematomas. They are worried I could throw a clot...and stroke, or worse. I had one of these talks with a Dr. not long after Tom and I split up....that I need to face some realities about my blood condition and that I need to live every day as if it were my last.  I have been doing that. Loving people wholly, not holding back, being myself and being as true and full and not hiding anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lg0OFz67xWE/TvAAufSTAbI/AAAAAAAAAnM/TPWbreeI1n0/s1600/photo3a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 449px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lg0OFz67xWE/TvAAufSTAbI/AAAAAAAAAnM/TPWbreeI1n0/s200/photo3a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688047128041161138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, here it is.&lt;br /&gt;I still love Tom, wholly.&lt;br /&gt;Still wearing my rings. Both.&lt;br /&gt;I'm still alone. Will be alone, because Tom is it for me.&lt;br /&gt;Tried the dating thing again- can't do it. Got myself taken care of physically, lost the weight, got strong, got healthy, got job, school, and taking care of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just miss him. He was my best friend, my partner and my life. I guess in some ways he still is.  So if I become a tall houseplant in the course of this thing....I've said what I need to say and put it out there for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His name's tattooed on my back with my sentiment of how much I love him....and that I'm his forever.  I forgive him. I forgive myself. I'd do anything for him to give one of those second chances everyone else in his life but me seems to get...but it's OK, I understand, I got all the way in with him where no one else did and he got hurt...and I got hurt...and second chances may not apply when you are in that deep. I will always be his and always wish for him to just talk to me--- even if we're no more than friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to sleep before my next blood draw, more tests and things tomorrow.  Praying things just are OK, but wishing I had his hand here to hold.  Love you, blue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;-Taj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324868464769744342-478554205938238345?l=tomtaj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/478554205938238345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324868464769744342&amp;postID=478554205938238345&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/478554205938238345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/478554205938238345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-knee-and-my-heart-are-connected.html' title='My knee and my heart are connected.'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HvoMypewvgQ/Tu_9DsTyCKI/AAAAAAAAAmc/yStERnA-O9w/s72-c/dec%2B18%2B2011%2Bleg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324868464769744342.post-5907900863362809144</id><published>2011-07-25T15:07:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T15:29:50.024-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the husband'/><title type='text'>Amends....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3BHXDffBRTw/Ti3fROLOIuI/AAAAAAAAAlo/I8zLAO8lGFw/s1600/IMG00237-20101217-1438.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 108px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3BHXDffBRTw/Ti3fROLOIuI/AAAAAAAAAlo/I8zLAO8lGFw/s200/IMG00237-20101217-1438.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633404195866288866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I delivered this letter last week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I suspect, only because I know the amount of pain that is present, that it was thrown away before being read.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;This  letter is somewhat for me...and somewhat for my Tommy....and because I  can't tell what might happen tomorrow...I want to make sure this is  somewhere.....that at some point, if ever.... it's available to it's  intended recipient.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I love you, Thomas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;~Taj&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at a point in things, I need to try to make amends where I can.  I know, in some things, nothing I ever do will make amends. I have to try.&lt;br /&gt;You don’t have to accept my apologies. You don’t have to forgive me, just please, read this and give it thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve forgiven myself, but I need to say these things.  Life is too short to not do everything you can to right wrongs where you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke promises to you that I never meant to, I disrespected you in ways I never meant to, and I will make amends as I can for my mistakes, for as long as I live. I don’t want anything from you, just hear me out since I can’t do this amend in person as I should…..In some ways I still can’t face you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ashamed, but working through it. I have found, said, admitted and accepted things—and I wish so much you had been there to be a part of it, to hear it, to see it, and to reap the benefits of that progress. I wish so much that you had your dream girl back…she’s here, she misses you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said I would never know what I did to you, or how I hurt you. I want to tell you that I do know, and in some ways it destroyed me that I’ve done these things, and in some ways knowing and realizing has been part of the healing process. I want you to know…..so that you don’t go on living thinking I never ‘got it.’ I want to tell you what I wished we had sat in a marriage counselor’s office and said…or that I had been calm enough, in the right mind, to share with you. I think if we had gotten some help to deal with what we had going on…it would have been different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have done as you have asked, I am gone from your life, and I’ve cut off all options with you. You told me to get out of your life and I have. Know that’s not what I wanted. I wanted time to fix me, and for you to have time to work on you. If it ended after we did that, so be it. We skipped a bunch of steps between things….and I think that was the big mistake we made.  We stopped working together; that was our mistake. I’m working at making peace with that.  But, I miss you, more than you know. I love you completely, I will never stop, and I long for you every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out to California….and I went to your home town. I went to your street. I was shaking once I got close…..it was hard. I stopped at the market nearby and bought a pot of white callas: renewal…..rebirth.  I finally got to see the house where you grew up.  The neighborhood is beautiful. I can see, on my drive out…why you dislike the city so. I was thinking from 10 miles outside of the city to try to see things from your perspective, trying, feeling how much and well I know you. I can see, from where I was in front of your house…that big mountain up behind it……how our mountain town could be your paradise…from what you saw and grew up with. It was something I didn’t understand until I saw it myself….and I wish you had shown it to me yourself….stood there with me and told me about you growing up…that beautiful tree-lined street at the foot of a mountain, and how you needed your own paradise…and our town in the mountains has been it for you. I felt it, I felt you there in California, at that house, and I felt what you tried to tell me about the city…and your heart.  It made sense. I’m sorry I didn’t respect it, care for it, and protect it. I’m sorry I didn’t respect, care for, and protect you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get what I did now…..what I went through…and what it did to you. I know. I get it.&lt;br /&gt;I know when you needed me to smile, I couldn’t because everything in my body, inside and out, hurt. I know you couldn’t understand that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know when you needed warmth, love, and comfort you got cold, angry, and stressed because I forgot to take care of you, too. I’m sorry. I know when you needed clean, soft and desirable you got depressed, funky and rejection, I stopped being your sweet-smelling lover, I’m sorry. I know when you wanted to put your hands in my hair, hold me and kiss me; I was a mess and there was just no way you could, I stopped you. I know that when you needed to talk to me and have me listen, I couldn’t, and you felt I didn’t care- and I stopped showing you that I did. I know that when you wanted to look into my eyes, there was nothing there for you to see in them because I was so gone and that killed you. I know that when you wanted to touch me, you didn’t feel like I wanted you to- even though deep down I did- and couldn’t tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave up. I should not have done that. I drained you by being so upset and twisted and hurt and taking it out on you. You were exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing meant as much to me as you did. I took more from you than I gave…..and there is nothing in this world I regret more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know when you wanted that sweet, smart, funny woman that drove you wild, she was missing and there was a mess in her place. I’m sorry. I know when I said and did things that hurt you I didn’t apologize, and I should have- and you were worth that, and more. A million more. I know I didn’t show you love and respect when I should have, and that in time it made you angry and resentful. I’m so sorry and I was wrong. I have more love and respect for you than I could show and share in 10 lifetimes, but…I lost my ability to do so for a while, and I’m sorry.&lt;br /&gt;I know that when you needed my love and support, I didn’t have any to give you, and you couldn’t do without it. I don’t blame you. I know that. I know I let the house fall apart, ignored my life, my children, you, everything I loved.  I don’t know how to tell you how deep the hole I was in, was. I love you more than all of those things, and you needed me and I wasn’t there. I left you alone to do things I should have been doing with you. I know I pushed other things in between us to fill the holes I saw appearing, rather than filling them with you, and my love for you, I’m sorry. I was sad, angry, depressed beyond belief. My body was rebelling, and the world seemed to be collapsing on me. I shut everything out. Even you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we stopped doing things we both loved, and we both felt deprived in so many ways. Being lonely together is unbelievably hard. I know that I was jealous where I should have been very understanding. I should have reached for you.&lt;br /&gt;I know I was angry when I should have been supportive and there for you, and indifferent when I should have shown you how much I care. I know I was critical when I should have slid my arms around you and held you tight, because you were my everything. You always will be that. I know I said mean things when I should have been kissing you like you know only I can- because in some ways, I’d give anything to do that now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have no idea how much I miss every part of you. Every last freckle. Every last curl. I lost what I loved most because I was selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d eat every mean thing I ever said to you, twice…if I could. You never deserved it, and I was very wrong to vent all my pain on the one person that mattered to me like you do. You always hurt the person you love the most, because they are the closest one to the explosion. I’m more sorry than I can say, my love. I know I was crying and blaming you at times I should have been sharing laughter and being silly with you, my hands in your hair, watching you smile. I hold the memory of your smile in my mind and my heart, and that’s how I remember you, that night on the pass, in the cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you so, even though I made so many mistakes with you…..and now cannot do anything about them but apologize and not make them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I wish you’d forgive me and talk to me see me as I am now….but I know you…so very well. Once you do something, that’s it. Your decisions are final. It’s something I love about you…even if it means you shut me out. I don’t like that you lost the version me you found and loved, if you loved me.  I always thought that some of who you are was the superhero, always believing there was the option to do and be more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy, I know you cried in secret, and you should have been sharing that with me. But I understand that you didn’t feel you could.&lt;br /&gt;I cried too. Constantly. I just couldn’t see your tears for mine and I am sorry. I should have been there for you.&lt;br /&gt;I know you were letting me go for a long time, and I can’t blame you for that….I only wish I could have woken up, and recovered before that. I know you were finding reasons to quit, and telling yourself you had to--- and I didn’t give you much reason to try, I pushed you so hard. Too hard. I know you stopped believing in us because that’s what you needed to do, and I am forever sorry that I took too long, and lost your faith. We were incredible when we both were true to ourselves, and all the fights and anger are gone for me now…I remember you as you are, perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea why we stopped being ourselves. I will forever wish I had been stronger to stay true to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that when I said it hurt for you to touch me, you didn’t understand that it wasn’t you, it was my body. I wanted you. Nobody knew my body like you did….and no one ever will. I belong to you. I know that when you wanted me to be who I was in the beginning, that you didn’t understand why I couldn’t go back to that.&lt;br /&gt;I know I didn’t understand why I couldn’t recover doing what I was doing. I know I lost my fire, my spark, and made you wonder why you ever thought I was right for you.  I got sick doing things to myself, and letting things that should not matter, take me over.&lt;br /&gt;I wish it had been a coma so that you didn’t have to hear and endure the things that happened, but the hormones and pain medications….I wish so much I could tell you what they did…and what I have learned….and how much has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that you wanted children so much. I wanted children with you more than you know. But more than that, I wanted you. All of you. Just you.&lt;br /&gt;I sit on a dirtbike now, and think to myself…..I wanted this with Tom….more than more kids.  I run up a hill and think to myself, I wanted this with Tom…more than I wanted more kids. I go on hikes, and think…this is me, again, and Tommy is not here. And I cry. I do my xfit and go and run..and breathe like I’ve not done in years.  I look in the mirror now at the body I have worked so hard to get back, and I wanted that more than more kids.&lt;br /&gt;But above all…I wanted you with me for all of this.  When it’s all said and done, all I wanted, was you. All I want, is you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tore each other apart, as only we could- we are very good at what we do and how we do it, even the bad stuff….and for my part, I’m sorry.&lt;br /&gt;I know you said and did things you didn’t mean to—and I know you said and did things to get back at me. I know I said and did things that hurt you, and you thought I didn’t care; you have no idea how much I did, and still do. I was in anguish for what I did to you and that I ever hurt you in any way. I know you hurt me more than anyone ever has, or ever will, and I know…that you know you did so—and I understand why you did. I forgave it all because we both were in horrible pain, and doing what we had to do, to survive it. I love you anyways, and nothing you ever say or do will make me stop loving you, wanting you, needing you, missing you. My love for you, all of you, is forever, and without condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took each other for granted. We really did.  I was so depressed, dangerously depressed in a way I never thought possible.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t crazy…..I was wanting to die for what was happening to me, and what I couldn’t do. I lost my will to live, but never stopped loving you.  I know the issues and problems I had aren’t why you left, it’s how you justified leaving the mess I was at the time. I understand that. It’s OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never stopped wanting, needing or loving you. Ever.  I was so lost, there was no way I could show you anything- though I wanted to. I’m sorry. I know you were lost as to how to deal with it, face it, solve it.  I know you have things you had to work through. I am sorry I wasn’t there for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t yours to fix. I had to fix myself, but I needed you there with me, and I am trying, working on learning to understand why you aren’t.&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry I hurt you so much. More sorry than I can ever express in words. I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just know I accept responsibility for things….even though I didn’t know, didn’t mean to….and don’t always remember them. That I was on all that medication--- whatever the reason--- I am still responsible. I know now, and I choose never to have that happen to me again. I won’t ever touch those things again, nor let them affect me like that again. Ever. It took a while to get it all out of my system, to understand what I needed to do.&lt;br /&gt;I am clean, clear headed and sober and that’s how I should be. How I should have been. How I was in the beginning. I am so sorry, Tommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that with all that was going on- my brain was unplugged, I said and did stupid things, made mistakes, and hurt people.&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t mean to. But- I am still responsible. I am trying to go back and apologize where I can-  since I can’t change things- only accept them. I want to let you know learned from this.  I know I need to listen more, talk less. I know I need to care more, and think of myself less. I know. I understand. I am being true to myself now. No stress, more passion about being whole and clear. As Leigh says: more tree, less food processor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now---I moved on, Tommy. I left, and went back to most of the life I had before you- but my heart is with you and will always be. Every day.&lt;br /&gt;I am back to running, riding, doing all the things I needed to do, wanted to do, and would have done, no matter what. I am me, again.&lt;br /&gt;Even now…… I want you to know that I love you with everything I am. Every breath I take. Every time your radio goes off. Every search you go on, every call you take. Every time you suit up to ride, to climb, to be someone’s hero, know you are mine and my heart is with you. YOU are the love of my life and it’s not a choice you or I get to make, you have my heart and always will.   I am so sorry I let go of everything…..and maybe someday far away you will forgive me for that, as I have had to forgive myself, and it’s a process. All I can do is peel back all the armor I put on for the things that hurt me and that I didn’t face, and just be me. Simple, calm, quiet.  I love you forever and I won’t stop. I will always wish you were mine again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qaer3PtHf4c/Ti3fmY-rQuI/AAAAAAAAAlw/bEGGfrzHjwg/s1600/tat%2Bday%2B1%2Bb_w.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 145px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qaer3PtHf4c/Ti3fmY-rQuI/AAAAAAAAAlw/bEGGfrzHjwg/s200/tat%2Bday%2B1%2Bb_w.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633404559543714530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had one tattoo that is about being strong, and surviving things, getting back up on my feet, my celt symbol on my lower back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now have two tattoos.  The second one….is you.  To remind me forever of the love I have, the mistakes I made- what I did, what it cost me, I have your name on my shoulder now,  I had to be whole, strong and healthy first to go get it, to be worthy of it…..and now I am, and now it’s there because I will love you, and you alone for my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always, Taj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324868464769744342-5907900863362809144?l=tomtaj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/5907900863362809144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324868464769744342&amp;postID=5907900863362809144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/5907900863362809144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/5907900863362809144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/2011/07/amends.html' title='Amends....'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3BHXDffBRTw/Ti3fROLOIuI/AAAAAAAAAlo/I8zLAO8lGFw/s72-c/IMG00237-20101217-1438.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324868464769744342.post-1250110149649492105</id><published>2011-06-15T11:16:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T11:21:30.234-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='married life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the husband'/><title type='text'>My strength, my heart, my soul....written in ink.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4U79iNJLGk8/Tfjpkt6MNQI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/VRIpj3DJpJ8/s1600/tat%2Bday%2B1%2Bb_w.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; 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  &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="21" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="31" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-priority:99;  mso-style-qformat:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:11.0pt;  font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";  mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;  mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do-gheobha mo chroidhe do chroidhe-se &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Is tú mo ghrá ar feadh mo shaoil. Tusa amháin.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tomas Redding Mac Conmara&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;09/08/2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;N37Deg 25m 8s&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;W107Deg 48m 29s&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324868464769744342-1250110149649492105?l=tomtaj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/1250110149649492105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324868464769744342&amp;postID=1250110149649492105&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/1250110149649492105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/1250110149649492105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-strength-my-heart-my-soulwritten-in.html' title='My strength, my heart, my soul....written in ink.'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4U79iNJLGk8/Tfjpkt6MNQI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/VRIpj3DJpJ8/s72-c/tat%2Bday%2B1%2Bb_w.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324868464769744342.post-8565077031153625897</id><published>2011-03-10T11:03:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T11:06:20.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...a year.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AmjRO1iAXZI/TXkS734b_aI/AAAAAAAAAlE/_rtWKeCgZgU/s1600/IMG00237-20101217-1438.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AmjRO1iAXZI/TXkS734b_aI/AAAAAAAAAlE/_rtWKeCgZgU/s320/IMG00237-20101217-1438.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582514032924687778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much I wish I could say...but none of it will matter.&lt;br /&gt;So much I wish I could show....but it's all for me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish life had a restore point.&lt;br /&gt;I wish things had been different.&lt;br /&gt;I wish what I thought was indestructible...had been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish my faith had been on solid ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back to where I need to be. Back to myself. I missed being me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324868464769744342-8565077031153625897?l=tomtaj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/8565077031153625897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324868464769744342&amp;postID=8565077031153625897&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/8565077031153625897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/8565077031153625897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/2011/03/year.html' title='...a year.'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AmjRO1iAXZI/TXkS734b_aI/AAAAAAAAAlE/_rtWKeCgZgU/s72-c/IMG00237-20101217-1438.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324868464769744342.post-2073838064909111779</id><published>2011-03-08T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T21:04:26.336-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='married life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the husband'/><title type='text'>...a thought.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is just a thought I've been turning over in my mind, so bear with me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What  if I had married one of the many soldiers I have dated?  What if I had  married one, and he was called to duty. I went thru a phase of winding  up with special ops and SEAL types.... I tend to gravitate toward those types- strong and willing, ones who save and sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know that what  they are called out to do sometimes is scary. I know what they do is  risky and that they could possibly not come home. I know that's a risk  with that type of life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I also have to wonder.....what  if I had, and he'd come home after being gone a while- a year or two.  What if he'd come home after seeing and doing things, or being a part of  things...and it had messed him up.  What if.... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I mean--- I know joining the service means you know it's an option or a possibility, more a strong certainty. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Would I disappear if he just had too much that he was dealing with--- from the situations, from the stress? What if he couldn't tell me everything, and I felt shut out? Would that justify me walking out on him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I  know it would be hard to be a part of such a situation. I know that to  some extent, even if I didn't know everything, I'd know it was a part of  him and who he was--- even though I might not like it.  If he was in  the service before we met---- how could I hold him responsible for what  he'd seen and done--- or what he'd been through, when he wasn't part of  my life. I can't imagine it would be easy to tell me things...and he  might not be able to tell me everything, or most things. How could I judge someone for the life they had before I became part of it? Or judge them because they had habits or issues they didn't know could be dealt with? If everyone else had left them before...why would they have reason to trust at all, ever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I  have to wonder....what would it say about me if I let someone into my  life and didn't expect or understand that they had a past and issues and  things they had done/said or been part of......things that were  said/done to them that impacted them.  What if they trusted me so much that they gave everything--- to where the strength they had before was gone...because it was built on holding all of that in?  What if he finally let all that out---even though it hurt me, hurt us---- and that was exactly what had to happen for him to start over and rebuild the right way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What if all of  this came to a head....all his stress, pain, pressure and  issues....while we were trying to deal with big things together in our  family? Things that were his, that were mine, past, present, future,  just a real shit-storm of reality and it was horrible---- and he  snapped?  Drank a lot. Took pills. Cheated. Whatever.  What if he totally unloaded all his horrors, because he finally trusted someone, me, enough to do it for the first time in his life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Would I  really tell him he was worthless and horrible and that he meant nothing  to me because it hurt us both so much? Would I? Could I?   I don't think  I could. I know I couldn't.  I might not react well, and I might really  have to work on things for a while...and for a while it would REALLY  suck--- but if I loved him--- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to wonder if I'd walk out on a broken man, when  I was the one thing he needed to mend himself. If he'd lost everything  else, including his faith in himself...would I? Could I?  What kind of  woman would that make me? Yeah, there's a lot to be read into this. I  just wonder, and this is what I have the hardest time with right now:  why wouldn't my marriage be worth it? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The answer I keep coming back to..... If I quit, it didn't mean anything. The promise was empty. A lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Doesn't make it any easier to swallow. Doesn't stop the tears every day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But.....Now I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324868464769744342-2073838064909111779?l=tomtaj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/2073838064909111779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324868464769744342&amp;postID=2073838064909111779&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/2073838064909111779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/2073838064909111779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/2011/03/thought.html' title='...a thought.'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324868464769744342.post-9039770386533184114</id><published>2010-06-28T21:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T22:09:35.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'>...integrity.</title><content type='html'>This will probably be the last post on this blog for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thomas left me in April, and since then has been very unlike the person I knew, loved, married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have since found that this is his pattern- how he handles it when he can't handle it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it was the loss of the babies...or that he had this preconceived notion of how married life would be---and things just didn't go that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best laid plans....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are getting a divorce.&lt;br /&gt;Not because I want one, but because I can't be married to someone that values me, and my commitment to him, so little. It's easier for him to quit than to work hard to succeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I married Thomas Redding McNamara...as he was, and is, the love of my life. However, who he is now--- is a sad, scared, insecure little boy who can't face his feelings, or the realities that life isn't perfect, nor are the people in it.  He can't accept the realities that things happen you can't prevent- and that each of us...does our best at the time- living and learning. He is the selfish man I thought him to be when we ended a pregnancy together early in our relationship and he treated me poorly then- and he only thought of himself. I should have known then....but I tried to think the best of him in spite of his faults, forgave him, and moved forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuff happens- we learn, we stumble, fall and recover as best we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my part- I have had a hard time coping. I have had a hard time trying to have more children when my body won't do that....I have had a hard time with a husband that loves his work, his toys, and his friends- more than he does his wife.  I'd need to be a lost, drunk, belligerent hunter in the woods to command his time and attention....not the woman at home in his bed worrying if he's safe and warm- if he will come home alright.  He just doesn't have that kind of heart....to share or accept from anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure if his dirtbike had sexual abilities, he'd have no reason to have a woman in his life at all- as he places so many other things above those who love and want him most. It's not important to him....unless it's important to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm not perfect....I've had issues from my past- and my present- that have made it hard to be alone in the situations we've been in.  I've made sacrifices to things I wanted and needed, thinking at some point- together- we'd recoup that and come out better for it.  However; I'm smart, beautiful, funny, articulate, loving, kind and both a fabulous cook and lover. I have my issues as we all do- and my shock has worn off that a few faults negated my many gifts..... however as someone from his past said; "Tom takes the best of those that love him and turns their gifts and talents to sh*t because he can't accept and appreciate them as they are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm coping with those things now- in additon to a changing medical situation---and Thomas abandoning me and my girls in the middle of all of it.  I can't help but think; what a small measure of a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again- I have since learned from others....Thomas, my Tommy...isn't capable of loving anyone or anything---other than himself. Even that- I'm unsure of.  Learning how he's treated others in his relationships---has freed me of feeling so sad and guilty of this failure, as it has clearly shown me it's not just me.  For someone so critical of my shortcomings, Thomas has ignored his own, and shoved aside any chances we,  or he, has of finding solutions.  I'm probably much better off without him- such a shallow person...I had no clue was inside of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His marriage, his commitment to me- was a joke.  It was a matter of convenience to him, a means to an end for him....and no one else.  When I look back--- I think his wedding vow would have more appropriately been:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll tolerate you as long as things go my way, for my reasons, for my ends. If things happen we don't expect, don't understand, or that require effort and sticking together- then you're out...and I'll go on my own. However, as long as it works for me- I'm here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....despite my love for him...and what we committed to one another- he's thrown that away.&lt;br /&gt;...and I am leaving his life for better things, for myself and my girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought Thomas had integrity, heart, intelligence, passion, devotion.  I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fare thee well...Thomas....you will never find that which you seek- for your own lack of sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Taj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324868464769744342-9039770386533184114?l=tomtaj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/9039770386533184114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324868464769744342&amp;postID=9039770386533184114&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/9039770386533184114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/9039770386533184114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/2010/06/integrity.html' title='...integrity.'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324868464769744342.post-6423780601103457386</id><published>2007-11-09T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T12:30:17.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>15 things about Tommy.</title><content type='html'>1. He's 6'5", and a rather big guy. He's ticklish.&lt;br /&gt;2. He will fall asleep on the sofa reading and look 5 years old.&lt;br /&gt;3. He shops for organic, wholesome food, and then drinks Mt. Dew.&lt;br /&gt;4. He was sent to the office in nursery school for reading textbooks.&lt;br /&gt;5. He threw temper tantrums and passed out as a toddler.&lt;br /&gt;6. He can build anything with an engine from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;7. He gives the best, gentlest backrubs; he learned how by being a nursery school teacher.&lt;br /&gt;8. He hates jeans that taper at the ankle&lt;br /&gt;9. He plays video games where he's a black ops soldier.&lt;br /&gt;10. He does the voices when he reads Logan's bedtime story, even the high squeaky ones.&lt;br /&gt;11. He can cook as well as I do, with a recipe.&lt;br /&gt;12. He remembers important dates without being reminded&lt;br /&gt;13. He admits it when he's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;14. He says he's sorry when he screws up.&lt;br /&gt;15. He can't get up in the morning without hugging me until I'm laughing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324868464769744342-6423780601103457386?l=tomtaj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/6423780601103457386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324868464769744342&amp;postID=6423780601103457386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/6423780601103457386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/6423780601103457386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/2007/11/15-things-about-tommy.html' title='15 things about Tommy.'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-324868464769744342.post-8369534746679842370</id><published>2007-03-05T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T09:24:32.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I love Tom.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dy5bnbQx4Dg/RexELf9iuTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/BD0isc9M8vg/s1600-h/tom-throwing-leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038477047469619506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dy5bnbQx4Dg/RexELf9iuTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/BD0isc9M8vg/s400/tom-throwing-leaves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Need I say more? -Taj&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/324868464769744342-8369534746679842370?l=tomtaj.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/feeds/8369534746679842370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=324868464769744342&amp;postID=8369534746679842370&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/8369534746679842370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/324868464769744342/posts/default/8369534746679842370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tomtaj.blogspot.com/2007/03/why-i-love-tom.html' title='Why I love Tom.'/><author><name>McNamara</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dy5bnbQx4Dg/RexELf9iuTI/AAAAAAAAAA4/BD0isc9M8vg/s72-c/tom-throwing-leaves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
