<?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-8839117214304768561</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:34:52.154-08:00</updated><category term='Merry Christmastime'/><title type='text'>Clarissa's Blog</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome to my blog!  Hope you like it!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>60</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4837336319669865452</id><published>2011-07-13T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T16:23:23.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EFY</title><content type='html'>EFY stands for Exciting, Fabulous, Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that that is kind of an interesting thing, but I couldn't think of anything better for Y.  I guess I could have said that EFY stands for English for Youth, Especially Fat Yaks, Empty Fun Yardstick, or Everyone Forgot You.  Those are all kind of sketchy too though.  Oh well.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, last week I went to EFY.  I LOVED it!  It took me two hours and fifteen minutes to tell my mom about it when I got home.  It was the best week of my summer so far.  It was great.  Everyone in my company was so nice.  I made some really, really good friends.  Our counselors where amazing too!  We had so much fun together.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't expect EFY to be so spiritual either.  I during almost every talk and in almost every class and devotional.  They had us read our scriptures for a half and hour everyday.  I cried during that too.  Everywhere we went the boys in our group had to escort us.  The dances where really fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4837336319669865452?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4837336319669865452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4837336319669865452' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4837336319669865452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4837336319669865452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2011/07/efy.html' title='EFY'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5739173442839805058</id><published>2011-01-21T11:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T11:38:33.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA</title><content type='html'>I believe in the Future of Agricuture with a faith born not of words but of deeds. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have of late, gotten very into FFA. It is so fun! I am in four contests. They are Creed, Parliamentary Procedure, Records, and B.I.G.(Best Informed Greenhand). They are all really fun, except Records sometimes which is kind of hard and confusing, but it's ok. My favorite is probably Parli. Pro. It is REALLY fun and exciting. It is also kind of stressful. My favorite motion is Fix the Time to Which to Adjourn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I move to fix the time to which to adjourn, so when we adjourn, we reconvene tomorrow at ten a.m. in the Ag. Room. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is great because it has so many parts to remember so that you sound smart when you say it. Zone is February 4th and we Wellsians are going to win! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;". . . stand solid for my part in that inspiring task."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Today I experienced one of the discomforts of agriculture. Mom paid me a dollar to carry a huge, bloody, dead raccoon that Dad shot over the fence with a shovel. It was gross. . . and REALLY heavy for a raccoon, but I did it! Aren't I an agriculture star!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5739173442839805058?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5739173442839805058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5739173442839805058' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5739173442839805058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5739173442839805058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2011/01/ffa.html' title='FFA'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-2210646591781911941</id><published>2010-11-23T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T12:57:05.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankfull</title><content type='html'>Seeing that Thanksgiving is in two days I will tell you everything I'm thankful for. Ok? Ok. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thankful for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gospel in my life&lt;br /&gt;My amazing immediate family &lt;br /&gt;My amazing extended family&lt;br /&gt;That it is a blizzard outside and school is cancelled&lt;br /&gt;My friends&lt;br /&gt;My sisters' friends (Jessica Ballard went to Salt Lake with us yesterday and now she is snowed in with us. She is amazing and so are all Liberty's and Desi's other friends.)&lt;br /&gt;Plays and musicals&lt;br /&gt;Makeup (mostly mascara)&lt;br /&gt;My phone&lt;br /&gt;My teachers&lt;br /&gt;My voice&lt;br /&gt;My Young Women Leaders&lt;br /&gt;That I have bought all my Christmas presents and I am happy with them, plus I'm not broke (although, I am close. I only have 12 dollars left.)&lt;br /&gt;My classmates at school&lt;br /&gt;My clarinet&lt;br /&gt;The piano&lt;br /&gt;Music&lt;br /&gt;My brain&lt;br /&gt;Basketball&lt;br /&gt;Vehicles&lt;br /&gt;Electricity&lt;br /&gt;Headbands&lt;br /&gt;The computer&lt;br /&gt;My new brown boots that are soooo cute that I got for only $7!&lt;br /&gt;My new eshakti dress (go to eshakti.com and they have the most amazing, cute, modest, dresses that actually fit!)&lt;br /&gt;clear nail polish&lt;br /&gt;That I finished my periodic table of people I know for Science!&lt;br /&gt;Colors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I realize that this list is really long and boring and I commend you for reading this far, but really I won't be offended if you stop reading, because I plan to keep writing a lot more.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot bath&lt;br /&gt;Delicious food&lt;br /&gt;jewelry (especially earrings)&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is coming up&lt;br /&gt;Stake Dances&lt;br /&gt;Any kind of dances&lt;br /&gt;Sheet music that you can download off the Internet for five dollars that you get right away&lt;br /&gt;Stuffed animals&lt;br /&gt;Alarm clocks&lt;br /&gt;My Cinderella collection&lt;br /&gt;How crazy and funny people are&lt;br /&gt;My house&lt;br /&gt;Water&lt;br /&gt;Temple Square&lt;br /&gt;Holidays&lt;br /&gt;Our dishwasher is coming tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Braces (even though they hurt) &lt;br /&gt;Little oranges are in season&lt;br /&gt;I can give piano lessons to McKenli&lt;br /&gt;I applied to be an FFA Greenhand Officer (I want to be Vice President)&lt;br /&gt;4-H&lt;br /&gt;You can program peoples numbers onto your phone so you don't have to remember them&lt;br /&gt;Everything&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-2210646591781911941?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/2210646591781911941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=2210646591781911941' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2210646591781911941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2210646591781911941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankfull.html' title='Thankfull'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6111291421838827614</id><published>2010-09-11T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T19:36:10.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi</title><content type='html'>Hi, sorry I'm so lame. I just realized I haven't written since May! That was four months ago. I was such a blog neglecter this summer. It's ok though because all you other bloggers out there made up for me with your awesome posts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I would like to tell you about every day of my summer in great detail, but it would probably take a week, so I won't. I did have a REALLY great summer though. I think it was the best summer I've ever had. It was pretty crazy. I was really busy. I went to Youth Conference, Girls Camp, FFA Camp, BYU Basketball Camp, The Missoula Children's Theater, and to Salt Lake a few times. I had so much fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also this summer I got to go to my first. . . and second, and third stake dance. I also went to two dances at FFA Camp. They are REALLY fun. I had a great time at them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When summer ended, school started. (Wow, way to state the obvious, Clarissa.) I am going to public school at Wells High School. I really like it. I'm a freshman and my locker is #75. It's pretty great. I also have a really nice new friend from Idaho named Kayla. I also have a lot of great friends I already knew. My life is pretty great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've written a blog. It feels good to not procrastinate it anymore. I promise to write more, but probably I'll end up not writing for four more months. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6111291421838827614?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6111291421838827614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6111291421838827614' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6111291421838827614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6111291421838827614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2010/09/hi.html' title='Hi'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-590867905806776646</id><published>2010-05-24T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T16:37:17.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For Good</title><content type='html'>I'm so thankful for all the great people I know that do nice things for me, like Mom, Dad, my sisters, my brothers(sometimes, no just kidding), my grandmas, my grandpas, my aunts, my uncles, the Young Women presidency, my friends, my teachers, my cousins, my second cousins, my third cousins(no just kidding, I don't think I know any of them), my 4-H leaders, my Sunday school teachers, and on and on. They are great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am going to be a talent show on Thursday. It's at the school. I am singing this amazing song with my friend Alyse. It is called for good. It's from the musical Wicked. For those Wicked fans out there. (not like bad, wicked, like the musical Wicked) Here are some of the words;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much of me is made of what I learned from you. You'll be with me like a hand print on my heart. And now whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend. . .who can say if I've been changed for the better? I do believe I have been changed for the better. Because I knew you I have been changed for good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like that song. It reminds me of all the people I said earlier. I am sure thankful for them. Thanks everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-590867905806776646?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/590867905806776646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=590867905806776646' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/590867905806776646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/590867905806776646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2010/05/for-good.html' title='For Good'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4463109630171221169</id><published>2010-04-15T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T15:05:56.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Baddish Day Made Better</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a crazy day. I went to school. I was really excited that I got to sleep in a little, (Hayden is no longer going to seminary) even though I should be sorry that Hayden isn't going to seminary anymore. I am kind of. (the tiniest, microscopical, little bit sorry) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I slept in, but it ended up me sleeping in too much. I didn't have time to put on my new makeup. I did my makeup in the car. It was an experience I wouldn't like to repeat. After I finally got it to look somewhat normal I reached inside my bag for a brush. (I very rarely brush my hair except in a moving vehicle. It's weird.) There was no brush! I looked everywhere. By this time we were to school and Dad had already gone in. I went inside the school. I was worried that my hair looked really messy. A lot of people were wearing miss-matched socks, weird hats, or crazy bright colors and patterns. Sometimes at Wells High School they have a weird dress up day. It was crazy day. Some people even had crazy makeup and ratted, crazy hair. (Hey, maybe I can blend in.) I asked Brieanna, Emily, Chelsea, and Mandy if they had a brush. No one did. I finally had to brush my hair with my fingers in Dad's room. I survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But everything that happened yesterday wasn't completely bad. There was also a lot of good things. I went to the store with Emily. It was way fun, except we didn't have enough money for everything we wanted to buy. We were 87 cents over. I thought we would be. I had to give up my orange juice, but it was ok. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Band and Choir went well, but all day I was nervous. Everyone was. Finally, it was time to get ready for the concert. I actually got ready in the bathroom of the band room. I didn't get to go home between. I had played basketball with Emily, practiced the piano, ate at McDonald's, and been nervous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a ton of black and white clad students in the band room. Everyone was nervous and warming up and tuning. I was just a little flat on my clarinet, as usual. You're supposed to push in if you're flat. I am always all the way pushed in. It is sad, but ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally we went to the auditorium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First the elementary band went. They played "Hard Rock Blues". Everyone loves that song. I was holding my clarinet and resisted the urge to play along. I did the fingering though. I have forgotten one part though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was our choir's turn. I loved it. Singing in front of people is so much fun if you really know the song. People were out of tune a lot though. I stand right next to the two people who always get out of tune. It is sad. I didn't really care then though. It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the high school choir went. They did pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then our band went. We did really good. Our two songs were good. It was over really fast. Desi and Lib gave me fake flowers. They are so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked Mom how it all sounded. She said our choir sounded really out of tune a lot. I asked her if it was me. She said no, but it was other people. I was sad. I wanted it to be like all really amazing. I kind of wished that I had just stayed in bed all day and not had so many trials, but Mom convinced me of all the good I did. She told me that our band sounded amazing and no one would care if our choir sounded out of tune, and it wasn't me anyway. She told me how great I am (even though I'm not that great.) She is nice like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moms are amazing. If you see yours any time soon, tell them they are great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4463109630171221169?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4463109630171221169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4463109630171221169' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4463109630171221169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4463109630171221169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2010/04/baddish-day-made-better.html' title='A Baddish Day Made Better'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5839989725221546143</id><published>2010-04-08T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T12:59:39.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Reason Why I'm Happy</title><content type='html'>Thelma sent me a birthday card. It was very nice. At the end she wrote. "Write a blog already. (I know, I know, you're busy.)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this blog is for Thelma. I am really good at writing scattered, theme less blogs that go everywhere. I have a lot to write about so this might be like that, but I'm going to try to give this blog a theme even if it's broad. Here it is;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I'm happy about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Spring has sprung around here. When I say that I mean there is no longer snow on our back porch and the sun is shining. That's good enough for me. I was just jumping on the trampoline!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I have an awesome cell phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I have unlimited texting on my phone so all you adoring fans out there can text me. Call my mom to get my number. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)I am going swimming. . .outside. (well kind of) Our family is taking the Activity Day girls to 12-mile. This afternoon. For those of you who aren't familiar with 12-mile, it's a little hot springs 12 miles from Wells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) We got a Wii! It has Wii Fit on it. It is good exercise and is really fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I have finally lost a pound! I have been working and working on losing weight. I think the Wii is helping me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) It's Spring Break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) I got makeup and for my birthday that I love. I have a great beauty consultant. It's Jennifer! I recommend her to you all. (not that you need a beauty consultant)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Our band (and choir!) concert is in six days! I'm really excited. . . and nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) I FINALLY wrote a blog! I'm sorry I don't write much. Read Thelma's blog if you want more posts. Plus it's really fun to read! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) There is just one thing I'm sad about. Pictures won't work on our computer right now. I can't figure it out. Neither can Desi or Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's ok though. The good things definitely outweigh the bad things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5839989725221546143?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5839989725221546143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5839989725221546143' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5839989725221546143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5839989725221546143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2010/04/ten-reason-why-im-happy.html' title='Ten Reason Why I&apos;m Happy'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4602694432420791889</id><published>2010-03-20T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T20:37:28.885-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Copying</title><content type='html'>I'm Copying Braeden. He had a good idea for a blog post awhile ago and I'm copying it. He wrote a name of a person he knew for every letter of the alphabet. Here I go. I'll probably end up with way more than one name for each letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ammon, Ashley (both of them), Andrew, Aurelia (both of them), Audrey, Audrien, Anne, Alisa, three Avas, &lt;br /&gt;Braeden, Brieanna, Britta, Brooke (both of them), Ben (both of them), Betsy, Brenden, Bryan, Dallin (two), &lt;br /&gt;Carolina, Chelsea, Cormak, Coralee, both Chelseas, both Callies (which one is getting married!), Christine, Colleen, Coulter,&lt;br /&gt;Deseret, Drew (both of them), Dakota, Dane, Deborah, Dulice, Dain,&lt;br /&gt;four Emilys, Emma (both Emmas), Edgar, Elisa, Enoch, Ellen, Eva, Ericka,&lt;br /&gt;Freja (I do kind of know her and Gavin) I copyed from Braeden's list, &lt;br /&gt;Gavin&lt;br /&gt;Hyrum, Hannah (all three of them), two Haileys, &lt;br /&gt;Isaiah, Ilse, &lt;br /&gt;Jennifer (all three of them), Josie, Joseph, Jonathon (three of them), Jacob, Jessica (three I think), Jocelyn, Jordan (four!),&lt;br /&gt;Katherine or Katie (I think three), Kelly, Kayla (at least four), Kelsey, Kenzee, Kristina, Kazree, Krystal (two but I think one is named Crystal( two Katelyns, &lt;br /&gt;Liberty, Luke (both of them), Lilianna, Laura, Lindsey (two), Linda (three I think),&lt;br /&gt;Marianne, Melanee, Marcos, Mark (both of them), McKenzie, McCrae, Maddi, Mattie, Mandy (two), Marcus, Marte (two), Mary (two I think), three Megans, Melora, Michelle (two), Mickey,&lt;br /&gt;Niah, Nathan, Nikki&lt;br /&gt;Olivia (all four Olivias that I know),&lt;br /&gt;Payson, &lt;br /&gt;Q (I don't know one for here)&lt;br /&gt;Robert, Ruben, Rachael, Reese, Renata, &lt;br /&gt;Savanna (two), Shannon, Sarah (three), Shelly, Spenser (two), Sione, &lt;br /&gt;Thelma, Tabor, Taylor, Tammy (two I think), Tessa, Trista, Tyler(three), &lt;br /&gt;U (I don't know one)&lt;br /&gt;V (I don't know one for here either)&lt;br /&gt;Whitney (two), two Wyatts, &lt;br /&gt;X (or here)&lt;br /&gt;Y (or here)&lt;br /&gt;Zack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned that some letters are popular and some just aren't. I also learned that I know lots of duplicate names!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4602694432420791889?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4602694432420791889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4602694432420791889' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4602694432420791889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4602694432420791889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-copying.html' title='I&apos;m Copying'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5060603963580194351</id><published>2010-02-13T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T13:29:59.772-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Band</title><content type='html'>I know, like Olivia said one time about herself, I've been convicted of blog neglect. I am really busy though, but I guess that's just an excuse, but I really am busy every week when I go to public school for band and choir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love going to public school. Dad takes this guy named Kayden to seminary every morning. He lives at Deeth. I used to really hate getting up that early to get to Wells, I still do, but it's better. Now I just sleep on the couch at the church during seminary. I don't like doing school in Dad's room, but I'm not writing about that. I want to write about band. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to go to band and choir. In band we are getting ready for the Band Festival in April at the Convention Center. We went last year and it was SO fun. We rode to Elko on a bus with the Jackpot band. I sat by Emily in the very front with only Mr. Roberson, the Jackpot conductor/director guy, (who seemed really nice and had a CTR ring)and the bus driver in front of us. When we got there all the girls went to the bathroom to do their hair. I went too. It was fun for a while, Madison even curled my hair, but soon I just wanted to go hear all the other bands play. I was glad when Mr. Roberson finally made us come out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Elko band was definitely bigger and better than ours, (After all it was a band festival for high school bands, and they were all highschoolers. Last year our band was half 7th graders and we only had one highschooler, Devin. He went to band every day for a period all alone. Our whole band was only 12 people.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't get to play until the afternoon. We had come early to watch other bands. We went to the wood park for lunch. We goofed around and had a really fun time. Except I kind of ruined my hair in the slide. I didn't really care. I not into hair like Junior High girls are supposed to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we finally got to play on stage, I was nervous. We had three really cool songs; Marche Militaire, Ancient Voices,(That was everyone's favorite. It sounded really good I think.)and Monolith. It was great. We got the rating of 2. They rated us from 1 to 5. It wasn't that good, but we really didn't care. We had a great time, so now we're getting ready for it again this year. We have two songs; "Brooke Park" and "In Praise of Gentle Pioneers." They are both really cool even though "In Praise of Gentle Pioneers" sounds like a really weird song, it's actually not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our band is better than last year, and bigger too. We had 12, now we have 21. At the beginning of the year there was even more than that. There were even other clarinets, Jordan and Lazaro. When they actually did quit I was actually happy. They didn't even play. They just complained and acted obnoxious, so I'm still the only clarinet. I don't mind though. Now Devin, remember the only highschooler last year, plays the same music as me now. He has a mini soprano sax. That helps a lot. Trumpet music and clarinet music and soprano sax music are all in the same key, so he played the trumpet part last year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like band. Even when we have to tune or work on dynamics, it is still worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5060603963580194351?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5060603963580194351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5060603963580194351' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5060603963580194351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5060603963580194351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2010/02/band.html' title='Band'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-7548726404911346698</id><published>2010-01-14T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T18:38:37.312-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Desi is standing behind me, humming a Sunshine Generation Song and doing my hair, which is kind of her new thing.  Liberty is sitting quietly on the stool next to me.  Now she is getting a brush so the stylist can finish my hair.  I love my sisters!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wearing a new shirt that I got yesterday in Salt Lake.  It is pretty snazzy.  It says LOVE in rhimestones.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the living room the boys are repeatedly flying paper airplanes into the moving fan on the ceiling.  They keep saying things like "The sparrow is flying!" and "may day, may day!"&lt;br /&gt;I love my brothers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, Lina is crying.  She had lost her personal paper aircraft.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is over by the stove, stirring something that smells good, like dinner, and talking on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad is lying on his stomach in the middle of the living room reading Faith Proceeds the Miracle.  (That's pretty couragous! There is a battle going on all around him.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi just told that she loves my hair and how curly it is.  That makes me happy!  My hair actually does seem more and more curly lately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has now finished my hair and is moving on to Liberty's.  I want to go look at my hair in the mirror now.  You now have a glimse at what our home is like at 6:40 on a Thursday.  M&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom just called us for dinner.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-7548726404911346698?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/7548726404911346698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=7548726404911346698' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/7548726404911346698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/7548726404911346698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2010/01/desi-is-standing-behind-me-humming.html' title=''/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5255110584415543881</id><published>2009-12-06T14:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T14:33:02.548-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'am so glad that Wells Junior High School doesn't have cheerleaders! Just for your information, Spring Creek Middle School does. They were really annoying. I have lots of goal and dreams and stuff, but being a cheerleader is definitely not one. Playing basketball is. I really like playing basketball, even yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played Adobe Middle School (they left their cheerleaders home) and Spring Creek Middle school (they didn't). We lost by a LOT both games. Even so, I want to be a basketball player in High School. Definitely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5255110584415543881?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5255110584415543881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5255110584415543881' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5255110584415543881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5255110584415543881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/12/iam-so-glad-that-wells-junior-high.html' title=''/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5423569135187047386</id><published>2009-11-20T14:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T15:15:25.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Things Make Me Happy</title><content type='html'>Little things.&lt;br /&gt;Things like looking at a &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;blue &lt;/span&gt;sky, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having someone smile at me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally knowing all my choir songs perfectly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally knowing all my band songs not perfect, but ok,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning about something interesting,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;helping someone who needs help,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;getting help when I need it,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;talking to my mom on the phone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;staying up late with Desi and Liberty,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;making a free throw at basketball practice,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and having  fun with my friends! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.  If you wear size nine shoes please get into Thelma's drawing at &lt;a href="http://www.thelmadavis.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.thelmadavis.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.p.s.  That is not a hyperlink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5423569135187047386?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5423569135187047386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5423569135187047386' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5423569135187047386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5423569135187047386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/11/little-things-make-me-happy.html' title='Little Things Make Me Happy'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-9030360283920752618</id><published>2009-11-14T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T16:46:34.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now I Know Why</title><content type='html'>Sometimes during long, boring 4-H meetings or hot cemetery cleanups, I ask myself, "Why did I join 4-H?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sometimes during hard basketball practices when I'm tired and our coach is yelling at us, I think, "Why am I doing basketball again?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sometimes when I get long and really hard, depressing piano lessons, I wonder, "Why do I have to do this everyday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well now I know why!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On Thursday, after finishing watching &lt;u&gt;Up,&lt;/u&gt; I put on a white shirt and a 4-H tie.  I went to the 4-H Achievement Night.  It was so nice! There are a ton of new members! It was so much fun. All the old officers had note cards with parts that we had to say on them. First we welcomed the new members (and Liberty). There are a ton! We had parts that tell about the purpose of 4-H, the motto, the colors, and all that jazz. Then we thanked all of the 4-H leaders. They (my mom too) got mugs filled with candy. Someone gave Tammy flowers. Then the new officers were welcomed in. Desi got Vice President! I am the new president. I'm kind of scared though. At the end we did a drawing. Every member from the old year got a prize. I got a green reading light. Desi got a pink hat that says 4-H.  It was great.  Then we had carrot cake!  Hooray!  That, my friends, is why I am in 4-H.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today I got up early! (again!)  I put on basketball shorts and a white  T-shirt.  About a half hour later I stepped onto a school bus full of Junior High basketball stars. (sort of, that might be exaggerating) On the bus we talked and left and went over basketball plays.  We eventually stopped at Adobe Middle School were we put on Orange jerseys that say Wells.  Mine also said 25.  Then we went out and cheered (a lot and loudly) while the boys won against Wendover boys.  After that we played West Wendover girls.  We won!  It was exciting.  I didn't play that much, (there are 19 girls on our team) but it was fun.  We won! Olivia came to that game.  My mom went to both of my games.  Then the boys lost to Owyhee.  It was tragic, and Owyhee only had five players.  It was kind of unfair because one of them was huge and looked like he was a senior!  We again cheered a lot.  Then we played 5 girls from Owyhee.  I was a starter and I made a basket!  We actually got an offense to work during that game!  We beat them.  It was so great. That is exactly why I play basketball! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A long time ago Travis Myers told me that I should learn to play Jessica's Theme.  I said ok.  We got it off the Internet and it was HARD!  I played for months and it was really hard.  I almost stopped, but finally (because I have this amazing piano teacher, you may have heard of her, Coralee Dahl) I learned to play it.  A few weeks ago I played it for Travis after Sunshine Generation.  I didn't even use music.  It makes me happy to play it now.  The is the answer.  That's way I play the piano.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So now you know!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;p.s. I wonder if I will ever see the positive results of getting braces.  (They were hurting a lot and I can't eat very well.)  I probably will though.  Hey, I think of one already.  They look really cool! I have pink rubber bands and a bright yellow retainer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-9030360283920752618?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/9030360283920752618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=9030360283920752618' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/9030360283920752618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/9030360283920752618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/11/now-i-know-why.html' title='Now I Know Why'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6989463763468567977</id><published>2009-11-04T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T16:37:40.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends are Like Flowers</title><content type='html'>My friends are awesome.  I guess that they are kind of like flowers.  On Halloween I invited some of my friends over and we made an amazing and scary haunted house.  It was the best Halloween ever.  Here is a little about each of my friends and what flower they are to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chelsea:  Chelsea makes everything so much fun!  She's on my basketball team.  She has an awesome since of style and is really good at tennis on the Wii.  She loves Disney princess stuff.  She always makes them laugh.  She would be a really great fashion model.  If she were a flower she'd be a bright one with big floppy petals and lots of pinks, reds, and oranges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily:  Emily reminds me of Liberty!  She's on my basketball team.  She kind of takes care of me.  She will always agree with me and go with me.  She's always nice.  She is really smart and good at climbing trees.  I love her artwork and awesome handwriting.  She would be a great artist I think.  If she were a flower she'd be a cute little light purple daisy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristina:  Kristina is a born leader.  She's Emily's older sister.  She's a year older than me and she always makes sure that everyone is happy.  She is a cheerleader and she's really good at it.  She is also in leadership.  She is smart and is a good artist.  I think she own a business and run it when she grows up. Her flower would be a blue tulip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca:  Rebecca is just the nicest person ever!  She always is friendly and hardly ever gets sad. She is really pretty.  She's really athletic and can do a cartwheel (so can Emily).  She is a fast runner.  I think she would be a great consultant person that helps people be happy.  Her flower would be a pink rose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alisa:  Alisa is SO pretty!  She's a freshman.  She is always happy and she is kind of quiet.  She is in track and leadership.  She is a fast runner.  She is really smart.  She is scary when she pops out of a door in our haunted house.  If she were a flower she would be a really pretty blue, yellow and white flower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny: Jenny is a really good person.  She's a freshman.  She just got baptized and goes to seminary every day.  She is good at painting peoples faces for haunted houses.  She is friendly.  She should be teacher (not of school, of something else probably) when she grows up.  She should be a tall flower with a long stem.  It would probably be red and black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex:  Alex is such a sweet person.  She would never say anything bad about her friends.  She hugs me a lot.  She always says thank you and tells people how nice they are.  She is good at playing video games.  She helps me not be scared of dogs.  When she grows up, she should work at a daycare and take care of little kids.  She is so good at it.  Are there any brown flowers?  Her favorite color is brown.  Her flower would be big with pretty petals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brieanna:  Brieanna is my new friend.  She is sooooo nice.  She just called and even though she goes to another church a lot she is coming to the ward party!  I can't wait!  She is so funny, friendly, and amazing.  She smiles a lot.  She should be a secretary at an agricultural building/veterinarian when she grows up.  (She told me that she likes ag class.) If she were a flower she'd be a red poinsettia.  She loves red. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarai: Sarai is really nice.  I don't really talk to her that much because she isn't friends with my other friends that much, but I think she is amazing.  She loves her family a lot.  She is good at basketball and she's pretty.  She isn't loud and annoying ever.  I'm not sure what she should be when she grows up, but I know she'll be great at it.  If she were a flower she'd be a blue forget-me-not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah:  Hannah lives in Elko and sometimes I don't get to see her for a long time, but when I do I have so much fun.  Hannah is really pretty.  Her room always looks perfect and she's really good at playing the Wii also.  She is really hilarious.  She always goes to church.  She is righteous.   I love playing with her.  When she grows up she should do peoples hair and nails.  If she were a flower she'd a pink iris.  (Is there such thing?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whitney:  Whitney lives in Fernely.  I usually see her only once a year when she comes for sewing camp.  She is an amazing seamstress.  She is smart and loves to read.  She loves to play games.(just like me)  She is really righteous.  She should be a writer when she grows up.  If she was a flower she'd be a marigold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor:  Taylor is my favorite girl cousin.  She is funny and so fun to be with.  I haven't seen her because she had to go and move to North Carolina, but I miss her, a lot.  I wish she lived closer. . . way closer.  She is good at soccor.  She should be a movie star when she grows up.  Her flower would be tropical looking with yellow, pink, red, and blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dain:  I haven't seen Dain longer than anyone else on this list.  I cry when I read the letter she gave me when she left.  She is so funny, smart, and amazing.  She was like my best friend when she was here.  She likes to read and is really beautiful.  She is good at putting makeup on. She wanted to be a flight attendant when she grows up.  I hope she does.  Her flower would be red and blue.  It would be really pretty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love all my awesome friends.  I'm glad I have a beautiful bunch of flowers! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry Braeden, this post is just for friends that are girls.  I think you are just as good a friend as anyone on here. You're a great cousin.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'd better go to the ward party.  I wonder how many of my awesome friends will be there. &lt;br /&gt;Bye!&lt;br /&gt;p.s.  If you're wondering, I think I would be a yellow rose if I were a flower.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6989463763468567977?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6989463763468567977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6989463763468567977' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6989463763468567977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6989463763468567977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/11/friends-are-like-flowers.html' title='Friends are Like Flowers'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6697264275772807872</id><published>2009-10-11T14:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T15:33:46.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>babysitting during chicago</title><content type='html'>babysitting during &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;chicago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for three days,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;morgan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and school too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;desi&lt;/span&gt; helps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;desi&lt;/span&gt; is nice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suddenly crash, crash, crash, bang my head, the table is turned, broken, crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bad day&lt;br /&gt;next day, lemonade is spilt, toy train is broken, tired after play practice&lt;br /&gt;first day, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jump rope&lt;/span&gt; broke the light, glass to clean, then make lunch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school, helping &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lina&lt;/span&gt;, crying &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lina&lt;/span&gt;, sleeping &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;morgan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not that bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, . , . , . , . , . , . , . it is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someday over the rainbow, somewhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;going to grandma's, sleeping, we liked &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ammon's&lt;/span&gt; room&lt;br /&gt;grandma is a good grandma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grandpa, nicely fixing the table,fixing it for real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not funner, never funner&lt;br /&gt;singing in oz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tired, way way tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awake, heating up chicken nuggets&lt;br /&gt;awake again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When is mom coming home again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;? one more day&lt;br /&gt;making pizza tomorrow, making pizza today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is that a black car, hugging mom, hugging liberty, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hyrum&lt;/span&gt; is there, hugging him, and dad&lt;br /&gt;eating smiling,&lt;br /&gt;presents?&lt;br /&gt;headband, happy day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;most fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lina&lt;/span&gt; making messes, it's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, mom is here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I never want to you to leave me to babysit during Chicago again, mom? I'm glad you're home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;home, sleeping in my bed, home&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6697264275772807872?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6697264275772807872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6697264275772807872' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6697264275772807872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6697264275772807872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/10/goobddye.html' title='babysitting during chicago'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-7096226785338325807</id><published>2009-10-03T11:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T12:05:52.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Money</title><content type='html'>Money is something that I need a whole lot of.  I'm not the kind of person who saves money well.  (I have other strengths.)  I buy clothes, jewelry, and all kinds of stuff.  I also want to get Desi a nice Christmas present.  Us three girls take turns having each other and I have Desi.  (We drew names the first year, but now we like having a different person each year. ) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in the last 2 times I went to clothes stores I spent over $100!  I was kind of worried!  I did have my Sunshine money for this season, but I had spent it all.  I didn't have a way to make money.  Even if the lawn mowing season wasn't almost over, I still wouldn't want to mow lawns.  If you haven't ever mowed lawns all day long in the heat than you're lucky!  I don't think I was meant to be a landscaper like my Dad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I found out something I was meant to be! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at school for band and choir.  Dad said that if I wanted to make some money I could type out a bunch of names, phone numbers, email addresses, and focus individuals for PBS.  I did it.  I was surprised at how much I liked doing it.  Some of the people on there had really crazy handwriting.  I had to decide and figure out what it said.  It reminded me of indexing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on last night Dad wanted me to work some more.  It was even more fun.  I got to copy out a typed page about one of Dad's PBS kids.  Then I got to listen to a recorder that Dad had talked into.  It was also about PBS.  Now I feel like I know all about some of Dad's PBS kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad says that he has lots more things he wants me to do.  I'm like his new PBS secretary.  Being a secretary is a lot of fun!  Plus I now have money for Desi's Christmas present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; (I have a good idea about it too!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-7096226785338325807?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/7096226785338325807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=7096226785338325807' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/7096226785338325807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/7096226785338325807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/10/money_03.html' title='Money'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-810676170122752568</id><published>2009-09-29T13:53:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T13:56:37.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Being Surpassed!</title><content type='html'>I'm being surpassed!  Desi has written a blog post everyday.  I can't keep up.  Now instead of writing a page everyday for school, Mom said that Desi can write a blog post everyday instead.  She is really good at it too.  Maybe she'll inspire me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-810676170122752568?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/810676170122752568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=810676170122752568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/810676170122752568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/810676170122752568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-being-surpassed.html' title='I&apos;m Being Surpassed!'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6527152530918944281</id><published>2009-09-27T17:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T17:27:59.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sisters</title><content type='html'>Since it seems like a trend to theme our blog posts after Tina, Trampa, Lina songs than I guess I should join in the trend.  They have a song called Sisters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sisters (being the lovely girls they are) now have blogs.  It was Desi's idea.  She is a really good writer and has written on her blog 3 times in 3 days.  She is just like Thelma.  (They are both the second child. . . and girl. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberty, on the other hand, hasn't written at all on her blog.  We just made her one.  We hope she writes something, but it's ok if she doesn't.  While we were on the Internet she was playing with Mall Madness with Lina.  She is amazing, isn't she? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my sisters.  I'm so blessed to have them.  They are the best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, anyway, I almost forget, there blogs are &lt;a href="http://www.deseretjohnson.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.deseretjohnson.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.libertyejohnson.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.libertyejohnson.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;.  They are great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6527152530918944281?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6527152530918944281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6527152530918944281' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6527152530918944281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6527152530918944281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/09/sisters.html' title='Sisters'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4624166282725103968</id><published>2009-09-25T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T16:43:00.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disaster Dinner</title><content type='html'>It tasted normal, but it was hard to get.  Here's the crazy story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all began last night at Wal-Mart (don't you love Wal-Mart?)  We were in a hurry to get to play practice on time.  Desi needed to pick out fabric for her Halloween costume.  Mom went with her and left me at the Subway in Wal-Mart with nothing but $35, a Subway card, and 4 hungry children.  I was scared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had already gone over exactly what I was supposed to order (like 19 times)  and so I thought I would do fine.  I didn't have to wait long.  The line was short.  When I got to the front I said Hi and started ordering.  This cranky looking high school boy was the one working there.  I ordered everyone wheat bread and their preferred meat. (check!)  After that things just kind of went downhill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hyrum did NOT want lettuce.  I got him lettuce.  (accidentally, really) Then, after ordering topping stuff for Mom's and Desi's sandwiches I said, "That's all."  The trouble was that I still wanted vinegar and oil and mayonnaise.  It was too late.  Then I didn't remember if Lina wanted olives.  She was sitting way far away on a table.  Just when I had sent Liberty to go ask her, Brianna Archeleta from band tapped me on the shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Hi," she said, "What are you doing?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ordering Subway for seven people," I told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was Morgan's turn.  He couldn't decide.  He took forever to tell what he wanted and what he didn't want.  While he was deciding our cranky Subway worker and all the people in line behind us in line glared at us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the sandwiches were done.  I started ordering drinks for everyone.  When I was just getting done I realized that the kids meals came with drinks.  I also forgot to order chips.  It was probably OK though because we were 81 cents (Is there a cents sign on the keyboard) short.  I didn't know what to do.  I tried the only thing I could think of.  I handed him the Subway card.  It turns out that we had a reward on there to get a free drink.  It worked out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought the worst was over when Hyrum came over to me.  I need a cup.  He had gotten a soft drink.  Up at the place where you order there was a bunch of fancy holders for the different sizes of cups.  One was all out.  Hyrum grabbed the smallest one.  I think it was size small but I wasn't sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time that was happening Liberty was asking me if she got apples with her kids meal.  (Count on Liberty to want healthy food.  She even got white milk over chocolate milk! )  I looked up at the picture of the kids meal and sure enough there was a picture of apples with it.  I told her that I didn't want to ask for apples so if she wanted them she could ask.  She didn't of course.  I felt kind of bad.  During all of this all the little kids were begging me to let them go get chips.  I felt bad again when I told them no.  I told them all the money was gone.  Hyrum said he had two dollars and that he would buy a bag of chips with his own money.  I told him no way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I had to hurry and eat my sandwich so we could get to play practice.  I had accidentally ended up with cucumbers (ew) and no mayonnaise on my sandwich.  I tried to make Lina eat.  She didn't take more than two bites out of her sandwich. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right then Desi ran up to me and showed me her new fabric.  I was purple.  I handed her her sandwich which I actually got right.  She asked for her drink.  I realized I hadn't bought enough drinks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She asked for chips too.  I told her again that we had spent all the money.  She and Mom couldn't believe it.  (That's inflation for you. )  Mom didn't stay long though.  She went to check out and left us to clean up.  During that process we dropped two sandwiches and spilled a thing of chocolate milk.  While Lina started crying Desi and I tried to mop up the mess.  An old lady sitting at a table next to us started laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was definitely a Disaster Dinner.  I thought that that was all that went wrong.  It wasn't.  I just realized that I they never gave me Mom's water bottle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a crazy night but it was worth it.  Play practice was a lot of fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4624166282725103968?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4624166282725103968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4624166282725103968' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4624166282725103968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4624166282725103968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/09/disaster-dinner.html' title='Disaster Dinner'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4605891310064610976</id><published>2009-09-22T16:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T16:37:52.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh the Bees in the Trees and the Bats in the Breeze Couldn't Do What the Jitterbug Does</title><content type='html'>. . . and I'm proud to be a jitterbug where at least I know I'm with my sisters.  And I won't forget the Mom who drives who gave the right to me.  And I'll gladly dance right next to my partner to help the Wicked Witch.  'Cause there &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ain't&lt;/span&gt; no doubt I love the land of Oz.  God Bless the Jitterbugs.  (and the U.S.A)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night play practice was fun but tiring.  They have the music now and everyone knows the Jitterbug dance really well. It's going to be so fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4605891310064610976?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4605891310064610976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4605891310064610976' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4605891310064610976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4605891310064610976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/09/oh-bees-in-trees-and-bats-in-breeze.html' title='Oh the Bees in the Trees and the Bats in the Breeze Couldn&apos;t Do What the Jitterbug Does'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-3339436844516305814</id><published>2009-09-09T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T18:40:21.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Washington Adventures</title><content type='html'>Day One&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye house, I said to myself as my family's black Expedition got on the road heading towards Wells.  We were on our way.  Mom had bought each kid a notebook to write about the trip in and we had each promised not to fight the whole trip.  We were excited to get to the Davises house the next. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day Two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excitement of sitting in the car was fading fast, but still no one had fought.  I passed the time by staring out my window.  The closer we got to Everett the more green everything was and the more trees there were.  There were also a lot of bodies of water.  Everyone was so ready to get there and I was dying to get to see Wicked.  Later that day we finally made it.  Braeden was standing out side waiting for us.  I couldn't believe we had made it!  That night we saw Wicked.  It was just as amazing as before!  I cried just as much as last time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day Three&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up a little groggy that morning.  After Wicked (which ended pretty late anyway) we had stayed up even later talking.  When we finally got up and ate breakfast we headed towards this hike the Davises knew.  It lead to ice caves.  It was really cool.  That night we went to Alfy's pizza restaurant with the Davises friends the Jorgensons.  They were really nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day Four&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played the greatest game.  It was called settlers of Catan.  I lost but I was the only one who wanted to play again.  I really liked it.  That afternoon we went swimming in a river at the church ranch for the Davises stake.  It was freezing water, but I got used to it and had a really great time.  That night the older cousins and their Dad's went to go visit Adams parents.  They were really nice.  There was a BYU football game going, but us girls went and played outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day Five&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were going to go to church but Lina got the stomach flu.  (I have it now.  I am feeling better though.  I could be at mutual but I'm sick.  It's sad.)  Anyway Mom and Dad decided to just leave when we got up.  It was really sad.  All of us cousins tried to come up with scemes to let us stay longer or have the Davises come home with us.  None of them worked however.  We drove all day (It was not the best of days and the little kids fought a liitle) and slept in Boise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day Six&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up and swam in our hotel pool.  It was fun.  Then we drove home!  It was SoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO nice to be home.  I love it at home.  I'm so glad that I live here and don't have to drive all the time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-3339436844516305814?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/3339436844516305814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=3339436844516305814' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/3339436844516305814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/3339436844516305814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/09/washington-adventures.html' title='Washington Adventures'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-1325136896297782082</id><published>2009-08-29T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T19:54:49.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird Things My Sisters and I (and Sometimes our whole family) Say</title><content type='html'>Friendo (we call each other it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Night, Buenas Noches, Shenanigan (We say it last thing before sleeping.  The Buenas Noches is probably spelled wrong and Shenanigan comes the most recent Missoula Children Theater.  We change it every year.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Tuck (Desi invented him.  He is a cowboy who wears a pink and purple shirt, bell bottom orange and maroon, pointed red and green cowboy boots, a purple saddle, and a red and yellow hat, and a multicolor horse.  He is supposedly from the movie "George Tuck, Real Man"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving by Winnemuca (Desi and I start singing it every time someone says Winnemuca.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dorky (We call everything dorky)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;funner and more fun debates (Desi and Lib believe in "funner", I believe in "more fun"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the good and bad awesome (the good awesome means awesome, the bad awesome means annoying.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italian accents (very frequent, especially with Desi)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;prettiful (Instead of beautiful)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote every movie and the Missoula Children's Theater&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pinch, poke, you owe me a coke or a lemonade (When two people say the same thing together.  We added to an original saying.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jose (We call Hyrum this.  Whitney started it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Die (What should we do?  Die.  What are you going to do? Die.  We are terrible aren't we!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are lots of others too. As you see, we are very strange people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-1325136896297782082?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/1325136896297782082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=1325136896297782082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1325136896297782082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1325136896297782082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/08/weird-things-my-sisters-and-i-and.html' title='Weird Things My Sisters and I (and Sometimes our whole family) Say'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-8400840417386968258</id><published>2009-08-29T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T19:32:12.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>School</title><content type='html'>I was dreading school.  (Well maybe dreading is an exaggeration, but I wasn't too excited.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I got done with school at noon.  It was amazing.  I sat on my couch. (We have assigned seats in our living room.)  I got out my orange and ice skate blanket, my school box, and a pencil.  I really had a great day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad I can be homeschooled!  It is so much fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday I went to public school and went to band and choir.  Band and choir were SO much fun.  I really liked them, but for all the other periods I sat and worked in Dad's room.  It made me so glad that I'm homeschooled! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm ever not sure of homeschooling I can talk to my family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad says, "It's great."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom says, "I love to have all of my children home with me learning wonderful things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi says, "It like totally rocks dude. Wew!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberty says, "It's good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hyrum says, "It's cool, it's awesome, I love it more than anything!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morgan says, "I don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lina says, "You like and you go to it and you love it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, huh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-8400840417386968258?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/8400840417386968258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=8400840417386968258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8400840417386968258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8400840417386968258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/08/school.html' title='School'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5022449670358499042</id><published>2009-08-19T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T17:06:38.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Better to be Tired When Your Work is Done than to be Tired When Your Work isn't Done</title><content type='html'>It's true.  I just finished cleaning the messiest house ever.  It took 2 hours.  Mom and Desi and Liberty were gone to activity day and I was babysitting the little kids.  I put Lina to nap and the boys and I got to work. We started at one end of the house and worked to the other, but after a while (5 minutes) the boys lost steam.  I decided to just have them go straight to cleaning their own room.  In 3 hours they cleaned up half a container of Legos.  Now that is progress!  (I was just kidding there if you were wondering.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cleaned the whole rest of the house.  (I think that's bragging.  Sorry!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to go to the ward party tonight.  I am tired though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys are still cleaning in their room.  Morgan just came up to me and said to me in his winiest voice, "I'm tiiiiiiiiiiiired!"  He made a really sad face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you say no to that.  I just have to go help them finish the other half of the Lego box (plus the whole rest of the room). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So good-bye! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just remember, It's Better to be Tired When Your Work is Done than to be Tired When Your Work isn't Done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(That should be on a billboard somewhere I think.  Ha, ha!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5022449670358499042?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5022449670358499042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5022449670358499042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5022449670358499042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5022449670358499042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-better-to-be-tired-when-your-work.html' title='It&apos;s Better to be Tired When Your Work is Done than to be Tired When Your Work isn&apos;t Done'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5322813067965972897</id><published>2009-08-16T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T16:10:14.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Get All Better</title><content type='html'>A few seconds ago my arm felt itchy. It was annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes ago Desi and I just made zucchini bread. It was nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours ago in Sacrament I conducted the music and spoke. It was a disaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago I thought about what it would be like to go running after a two day break. It was miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago I struggled with a really, really hard sewing projects. It was scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago lots of girls were mean to me at public school. It was sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago I had a fire coming closer and closer to my house. It was a catastrophe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few millenniums ago I was trying to decide if I should go come to earth or follow Satan. It was intense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See. . . Bad things happen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what; things get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what else; my arm isn't itchy anymore. I scratched it. It was relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi and I aren't fighting anymore. We made friends again. It is a dream come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sacrament isn't going so bad anymore. I figured out that you have to stop at a fermata when you are conducting a song in Sacrament. I survived my talk. It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not scared of running anymore. I ran and it felt great. It was enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sewing anymore. I finished my dress and modeled it in the fashion revue. It was friendly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not around any mean girls. School ended. It was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no fire anymore. It stopped before it got to our house. It was marvelous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not deciding anything anymore. Luckily I made the right choice in the preexistence! It was great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, good things happen too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5322813067965972897?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5322813067965972897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5322813067965972897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5322813067965972897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5322813067965972897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/08/things-get-all-better.html' title='Things Get All Better'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-1800107952061118456</id><published>2009-08-08T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T09:00:15.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Making a Decision</title><content type='html'>If you know me, then you know that I am terrible at making decisions. Oh well. I have other strengths. But some decisions come with deadlines. Those are the kind I hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed to decide if was going to public school in 8th grade or not. I had to know a little bit before school started, right? Well, I had just kept on putting it off all summer. Then on Sunday Mom told me I had to decide today. I was fasting about it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I made a Pros and Cons list. I thought about going. What is 8th grade like at Wells High School anyway? I know what 7th grade is like, but is 8th grade different. Well I read a book by John Bytheway called You're Gonna Make it Though Junior High. He said that 8th grade was the worst year of his life. Well that was very encouraging. I just really wanted to go to band and choir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also thought about staying home. I could sleep in. That is definitely a pro. I also wanted to have more time to play the piano and play and run. Mom also says we can make a quilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I wanted to stay home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed about it. It made me cry. I am now going to stay home! I'm excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(See, I can make decisions!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-1800107952061118456?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/1800107952061118456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=1800107952061118456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1800107952061118456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1800107952061118456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/08/if-you-know-me-then-you-know-that-i-am.html' title='Making a Decision'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6796676590078917094</id><published>2009-08-06T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:59:33.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Worked!</title><content type='html'>I am not a slacker!  I tried to write on here a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;bazillion&lt;/span&gt; times but I couldn't remember my password and so I kept on trying to change it.  You know how on the bottom of the little box is says in blue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Forgot your password?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well today I finally remembered my password.  I would say it here but that probably isn't very smart.  I don't want any evil hackers messing with my blog.  (Not that you are an evil hacker. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just very happy!  I was just trying everything I could think of, when it finally worked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6796676590078917094?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6796676590078917094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6796676590078917094' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6796676590078917094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6796676590078917094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/08/it-worked.html' title='It Worked!'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-1607435705740837378</id><published>2009-07-21T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T18:18:07.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are You Sure that there are Leprchauns in the Story of the  Princess and the Pea (see bottom)</title><content type='html'>Guess what, I'm a Leprechaun in the Missoula Children's Theater play of The Princess and the Pea. It's true! At first I was a little bit sad that I wasn't the princess but I got over it. We had practice yesterday right after the tryouts. The other Leprechauns are Braeden, Colten, and Joseph Tate. We are supposed to be kind of stupid. It is fun though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sad about my part but now I am happy! I had such a fun time at play practice today. All the Leprechauns know their lines. Even I know my lines! We have green hats with shamrocks on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we got the set up! It is really cool. Here, I'll tell you what other people are. I'll tell you all the ones you don't already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi is the Snow Queen who is the queen of Glacierdom, Liberty is a Green Shoot Grower from Riverdom, Hyrum, Morgan, Mark, and Gabe are Dust Bunnies, Emma is a phony princess in Glacierdom and a Winter Wind Worker.  Whitney is Jack Frost, Cameron is a River Runner from Riverdom , Levi is King Size who is the king of Riverdom, Kaitlin is a Snow and Sleet Smoother from Glacierdom, Naomi is a Flower Gardener and a phony princess from Riverdom, and Neena is a tree barker from Riverdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. The top half of this blog was written on Tuesday. The bottom half was written on Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES! (see top)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-1607435705740837378?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/1607435705740837378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=1607435705740837378' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1607435705740837378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1607435705740837378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/07/are-you-sure-that-there-are-leprchauns.html' title='Are You Sure that there are Leprchauns in the Story of the  Princess and the Pea (see bottom)'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-1825908266793529693</id><published>2009-07-19T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T19:53:30.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping Order in Orderville (Excuses)</title><content type='html'>On Wednesday, Dad, Desi and I went to Orderville.  It isn't very orderly there.  Well at least at Grandma's house it isn't.  We helped organize one of the trailers there.  We took out everything, including carpet that had gotten ruined from the rain.  We put a couch, new carpet, and a bunch of filing cabinets in there.  It looks way better. We WERE keeping order in Orderville, until. . .   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Taylor and McKenzie came.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Our helping sort of ended&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;  We dressed up in all these dresses in one of the trailers.  It was so fun.  We even dressed Christian in a dress and a wig.  He looked so funny!  We also went on a treasure hunt.  It was so much fun!  It wasn't actually a treasure hunt though.  It was a ancestor hunt.  It was really fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also rode bikes a lot.  There weren't enough bikes for everyone so we invented new ways to keep everyone with us.  First we tied wagons onto the back of each bike.  See, we WERE keeping order in Orderville, until. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;I got tired.&lt;/span&gt;  So then McKenzie took it upon herself to do something.  This is what she did.  She tied the wagon (Christian included) around her waist and pulled it up the hill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we were going to go to the Orderville pool to guard it and keep order, but. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;We decided to go a Shakespeare play instead.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so funny and awesome!  I loved it.  It was called Comedy of Errors.  We never went back to Orderville but we think it is in good hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. . . we weren't that good at keeping order anyway.  Oh well, we had fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-1825908266793529693?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/1825908266793529693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=1825908266793529693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1825908266793529693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1825908266793529693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/07/keeping-order-in-orderville-excuses.html' title='Keeping Order in Orderville (Excuses)'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-2267579004497394977</id><published>2009-07-06T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T16:34:10.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tina, Trampa, Lina</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;We have some very exciting news today.  This is even bigger than Micheal Jackson&lt;/font&gt;!  After a long absence, Lina, from the very famous singing group, Tina, Trampa, Lina, is coming back to Starr Valley.  While she is there she and her group will be putting on the most exciting show of the century.  It has it all folks, drama, suspense, excitement, and love.  This show is definitely something you don't want to miss. The name of this concert is not yet open to the public but will be available soon.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Preparations for the show will mainly take place next week, but costumes and songwriting are already in progress.  The TTL foundation (which stands for Tina, Trampa, Lina) has chosen not to display a photograph of the costumes just yet, but they are revealing that they are in fact the color pink.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The TTL foundation is also in search of a new publicity manager.  They would prefer a male in between the ages of 11 and 13.  They also would like him to be from Washington State.  For security reasons they are not saying just now why they want these specific qualifications.  If you are interested in this job please contact Tina or the awesome pianist Clarissa as soon as possible.  You will have to look them up in the phone book to get their number.  Contact information can not be posted here.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please stay tuned for more information about this show.  Remember to keep the next few weeks free and when ticket come out, book early.  We can't wait to see you at the show.  Go &lt;font size="5"&gt;Tina, Trampa, Lina.&lt;/font&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-2267579004497394977?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/2267579004497394977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=2267579004497394977' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2267579004497394977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2267579004497394977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/07/tina-trampa-lina.html' title='Tina, Trampa, Lina'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6769948109879374167</id><published>2009-07-02T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T15:45:46.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Thursday, Oh Hello Thursday</title><content type='html'>Today is Thursday, right.  Well I am saying hello to it.  Now if you haven't already guessed I'll tell you were that came in.  On Tuesday night we went to Hello Dolly.  It was so good.  I think that going to plays is the most fun things ever.  It is more fun than anything.  I love Hello Dolly.  It was just amazing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having an amazing summer.  I can't believe it is July.  I'm so excited for the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Missula&lt;/span&gt; Children's Theater.  Soon I will be saying "Hello Thelma, Oh Hello Thelma,"  and "Hello &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Braeden&lt;/span&gt;, Hello Emma, Hello Mark, Hello Kurt, Hello Linda, Hello Thane, Hello Levi, Hello Katie, Hello Kevin, Hello Jordan, Hello Gabe, Hello Shelley, Hello Whitney, Hello &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Coulten&lt;/span&gt;, Hello Cameron, and Hello &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Neena&lt;/span&gt;, Hello Naomi, Hello Sarah, Hello Aspen, Hello Autumn, and Hello Katie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6769948109879374167?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6769948109879374167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6769948109879374167' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6769948109879374167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6769948109879374167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/07/hello-thursday-oh-hello-thursday.html' title='Hello Thursday, Oh Hello Thursday'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-8571744907786933005</id><published>2009-06-25T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T11:16:47.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy as Pie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Right now I'm all alone in my house. It is weird. I just took my pie out of the oven. Don't worry, I turned the oven off. I put a design on the top. I should take a picture of it, shouldn't I. Here I go. I'll be right back. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, I'm back. Here's my picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351329867710490034" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SkO-KYDSZbI/AAAAAAAAAD0/c5ZykSo1niY/s320/IMG_4318.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, its not the most beautiful pie ever.  The design is not that centered.  Oh well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We made pies at mutual yesterday.  It was really fun.  Mine is blueberry.  I'm excited to eat it.  Making pie is kind of hard, so if you ever want someone to do something kind of hard than you can tell them that it's as easy as pie.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-8571744907786933005?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/8571744907786933005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=8571744907786933005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8571744907786933005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8571744907786933005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/06/easy-as-pie.html' title='Easy as Pie'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SkO-KYDSZbI/AAAAAAAAAD0/c5ZykSo1niY/s72-c/IMG_4318.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-2240461501426095218</id><published>2009-06-23T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T17:47:35.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This blog starts with Mom than quickly goes off subject.  Sorry Mom</title><content type='html'>I asked my mom what I should write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your beautiful mother," she immediately answered. I knew she would say something like that. She is very beautiful. I am so excited. I got a picture on here. Here she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350678800888246402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SkFuBTIoMII/AAAAAAAAADs/luirdSXl2Zw/s320/May-Oct+08_183.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is something about her, she is going to be in a play. Actually our whole family is except Morgan, Lina, and maybe Hyrum. I am so excited. The play is called Forlorn Hope. It's a musical about the Donner Party. (I know Thelma, nothing screams musical like the Donner Party. Did you know that Mom is telling everyone in the world that you said that?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really excited when I found out that the main character of the play is a 14 year old girl. I thought that maybe I could get that part. Unfortunately another girl already got it. She is really short and has a soft voice. It is sad. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to play practice yesterday. It was a lot of fun when we tried out. Today the director called us and told us our parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hyrum (if he ends up doing the play) will be an extra. Liberty will be Virginia's(the one girl I told you about) little sister. Her name is Patty and she has kind of a lot of lines and a singing solo. Isn't that exciting! Desi's part is to be Virginia's best friend Leanna. Mom will probably be Mary Todd Lincoln.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi learned about her in school. She was short and plump. That's funny, but do you know what is even more funny? If Dad were Abraham Lincoln. It would be really hilarious. The lady just said that I would be a grownup. The other lady said I would be a newlywed. I am excited. We will have so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that you know about our exciting play you can come and watch it. It's the second week in August. It will be great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-2240461501426095218?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/2240461501426095218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=2240461501426095218' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2240461501426095218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2240461501426095218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-blog-starts-with-mom-than-quickly.html' title='This blog starts with Mom than quickly goes off subject.  Sorry Mom'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SkFuBTIoMII/AAAAAAAAADs/luirdSXl2Zw/s72-c/May-Oct+08_183.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5546462257547841425</id><published>2009-06-19T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T17:55:28.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprizes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My last few weeks have definately been full of surprizes. The first one was when I arrived at Girl's Camp and it was pouring rain. We set up ok and I did have an amazing time at Girl's Camp. Here are some of the surprizes about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our skit was kind of lame. Oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of girls came. Even Olivia Taylor came. It was great. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We roasted everything on the planet at our ward campfire. Some things were bananas, apples, gummy bears, chocolate, sticks, hot chocolate, and coconut. It was crazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our tent was a huge disaster and I had to help Olivia and Chelsea to keep there area clean quite a lot. ( Ok maybe that isn't such a surprize.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our five mile hike was easier than I expected. We actually only went three and three-fourths of a mile. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt the Spirit so strong, probably more than I expected. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a microphone and hosted a talk show starring Emily and Chelsea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I inherited our mailbox. It is a real toilent. Lindsey gave it to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a wonderful time. (Ok that actually isn't too surprizing. )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some Girl's Camp pictures. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/Sjw8Onp5mHI/AAAAAAAAADU/H1TPIueWvPk/s1600-h/IMG_4207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349216679269865586" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/Sjw8Onp5mHI/AAAAAAAAADU/H1TPIueWvPk/s320/IMG_4207.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/Sjw8Onp5mHI/AAAAAAAAADU/H1TPIueWvPk/s1600-h/IMG_4207.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chelsea and Emily in our tent.  I was going to put other pictures on here too but I tried to load another and it took all night and still wasn't done.  I finally gave up.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I finally got home from Girl's Camp, washed my clothes, took a shower, took a nap, and I was off again to Washington D. C. It was amazing. I got to see a lot of awesome things and I did pretty well at the History Day. I didn't get to go on to the finals but I think I did all right. Here are some surprizing (or just exciting) things about Washington D. C.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The metro is loud. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mount Vernon is really cool. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dorthy's ruby slippers and Abraham Lincoln's top hat are at the Museum of American History. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you get to Washington D.C. really late at night and you are hungry, walk through the drive through at Taco Bell if they let you. They let us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If it is rainy and cold in Washington D.C. and you already bought a T-shirt that says I heart D.C. the day before, buy a sweatshirt any way. You just have to be careful. Everyone in Washington D.C. will have the same sweatshirt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you walk a lot in Washington D.C. than you WILL get tired. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you happen to eat at the "America" resaurant at Union Station get Spaghetti and Meatballs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Washington D.C. is a wonderful place but you will be so happy to be home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5546462257547841425?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5546462257547841425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5546462257547841425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5546462257547841425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5546462257547841425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/06/surprizes.html' title='Surprizes!'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/Sjw8Onp5mHI/AAAAAAAAADU/H1TPIueWvPk/s72-c/IMG_4207.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-2705270623819038051</id><published>2009-06-03T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T15:44:43.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Constructive Thinking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibNvDs9W-I/AAAAAAAAACs/EBemOL1R1UE/s1600-h/IMG_4159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343184216253094882" style="WIDTH: 296px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibNvDs9W-I/AAAAAAAAACs/EBemOL1R1UE/s320/IMG_4159.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Carolina playing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibNu6v2AYI/AAAAAAAAACk/lBQ4mgKtViY/s1600-h/IMG_4158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343184213849276802" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibNu6v2AYI/AAAAAAAAACk/lBQ4mgKtViY/s320/IMG_4158.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom working on our business&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every summer my m0m gives a lot of effort and thought into our summers. She wants us to do good things and have "Constructive Thinking". (She never actually said that. I thought of it.) Every summer before this one she has had us participate in a summer schedule where we have to do exactly what she says everyday whether we like it or not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then this summer Mom got a really good idea. She made everyone a chart with everything they have to do on it. We all really like it. It makes us want to do our work. Look at how happy we look. ;) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGxboqo3I/AAAAAAAAACc/YQhHoqM_DHQ/s1600-h/IMG_4156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343176560455885682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGxboqo3I/AAAAAAAAACc/YQhHoqM_DHQ/s320/IMG_4156.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberty practicing the piano. Hi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGxD72bZI/AAAAAAAAACU/yOAclWj1D3c/s1600-h/IMG_4155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343176554093899154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGxD72bZI/AAAAAAAAACU/yOAclWj1D3c/s320/IMG_4155.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Desi making lunch!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGw7yXocI/AAAAAAAAACM/4Es6TAOLBIs/s1600-h/IMG_4153.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343176551906648514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGw7yXocI/AAAAAAAAACM/4Es6TAOLBIs/s320/IMG_4153.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys getting ready to go play baseball. Look at&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hyrum's medal. Morgan got one too. He's just doesn't have it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGw0PZYPI/AAAAAAAAACE/Sym6Ryje7yk/s1600-h/IMG_4151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343176549880914162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 308px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGw0PZYPI/AAAAAAAAACE/Sym6Ryje7yk/s320/IMG_4151.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beautiful blond twinners. Go Hansel and Gretel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGwtwB3MI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xhWhQkckbEU/s1600-h/IMG_4150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343176548138736834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 318px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibGwtwB3MI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xhWhQkckbEU/s320/IMG_4150.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making a hat!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are you so proud of how constructive we are? Hooray! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-2705270623819038051?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/2705270623819038051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=2705270623819038051' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2705270623819038051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2705270623819038051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/06/constructive-thinking.html' title='Constructive Thinking'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4DP3nYrOBJ8/SibNvDs9W-I/AAAAAAAAACs/EBemOL1R1UE/s72-c/IMG_4159.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4650349769367143342</id><published>2009-05-31T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T16:15:17.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>School's Out</title><content type='html'>I can't believe that school is out! I just can't believe it! It seems like I was just barely starting school in January. I really liked public school. I liked Band. It was so fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the last day of school there was an awards ceremony. I got a Social Studies award. I also got the award of best female writer in 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade! I was happy. I wrote a story for English. Here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My Song&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My heart pounded as I strode onto the stage. I tried to act calm and poised, but in reality I was more afraid than I had ever been. The stage lights flooded onto my midnight blue dress like the sun at noonday. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I had dreamed of this moment all my life, but I had forgotten how terrorizing it could be. I only had one chance to show the world what I could do. This was that chance. Could I do it? Well, that wasn't an option anymore. I could and I would. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I took the microphone off it's stand. The music started. I smiled in spite of myself. The music sounded so familiar. I was ready. I opened my mouth and sang. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Oh, I sang! My voice filled every corner of the gigantic hall. I wasn't singing the song. I was the song. the music weaved through the crowd like clear water, cool and strong. I realized I wasn't afraid anymore. I was actually enjoying myself. I was living my dream, fulfilling my passion, doing what I loved the most. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The song ended.  It was over.  The crowd burst into adoring applause.  Every human being in the room stood up.  They had liked it!  They had actually liked it!  I smiled again.  My heart was no longer pounding.  It was rejoicing.  I had done it.  I had sung.  I had faced my fear, and shown the world what I could do.  And now, now I was triumphant!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4650349769367143342?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4650349769367143342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4650349769367143342' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4650349769367143342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4650349769367143342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/05/schools-out.html' title='School&apos;s Out'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-1537225837209934392</id><published>2009-05-12T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T19:25:11.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventurous cooking</title><content type='html'>Right now an amazing concoction is being baked in my oven.  Desi, Liberty, and I decided to make a cake. It was a cake mix, just a normal, average cake mix.  Suddenly disaster struck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desi, Liberty, and I were overpowered with the urge to add all kinds of crazy things to the cake. I am embarrassed  to admit we ended up adding coconut, almonds, orange juice, marshmallows, brown sugar, vanilla, red sprinkles, salt, and a lot of peanut butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the scary part; my mom wasn't even here. My dad (However much supervision he would have been, I don't know.) wasn't even here.  Well they just walked in the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What smells like peanut butter?" my mom asks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um. . . . I'm not sure," I tell her with with an unsure voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She will find out soon enough.  I hope it will be OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;;)    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-1537225837209934392?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/1537225837209934392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=1537225837209934392' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1537225837209934392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1537225837209934392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/05/adventurous-cooking.html' title='Adventurous cooking'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-2683604692060330458</id><published>2009-04-19T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T18:42:40.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Band</title><content type='html'>A lot of people don't like band. At least in Wells, Nevada, anyway. We've had a few hard years. But I do!!! We have a very small band, but it is probably the best band in the world. I think so anyway! The history of our band goes like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007, Mr. Butcher was our teacher. He was a really good teacher. I really liked him. The trouble is that he was a little too nice. He let everyone do whatever they wanted. Quite a few people quit band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008, Mr Rorex was our teacher. He was really good at playing the electric guitar. He taught us kind of weird songs like Ghost Riders in the Sky. He wasn't that good of a teacher. Quite a few people quit band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009, (That is this year if you haven't looked at your calender lately.) Mr. Roberson is our teacher. He is the greatest teacher! He makes us work hard. We do really good. He has us do practice sheets. We have to practice music 100 minutes a week. We are really good. We have a small band, but it is the most energenic band ever. We have the funnest music. We work hard, but it is so fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we moved into the auditorium so we can get used to performing in a large room. We are going to the band festival next Wednesday. We are so ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We are playing three songs that we have been working on so hard. They are Marche Militaire, Ancient Voices, and Monolith. Ancient Voices is the absolute best one. It sounds so good. I feel so happy. I'm probably kind of bragging. Oh well.  It's probably alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love band!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-2683604692060330458?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/2683604692060330458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=2683604692060330458' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2683604692060330458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2683604692060330458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/04/band.html' title='Band'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5530745626046671630</id><published>2009-04-16T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T20:12:23.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News</title><content type='html'>I get to be one of the lawyers in our acting out of a court in English. I am defending the suspects of murder! It is really fun. I have to convince that Cindy (the person who was murdered) was not murdered by my clients, who are Betsy, Andrew, and Reese. The other Lawyer is really, really good! He is Coulter. I have been thinking about strategies of how I can convince the jury. It is so fun! I love it.&lt;br /&gt;I also am in the High School play. I am the only actual non High Scholar in it. I have a pretty small part. On the script it calls me "Little Girl". It is fun though.&lt;br /&gt;I get to go on Dad's special ed Field trip on April 28. We are going to Elko to see the college. Then we are going to our house to have lunch. I'm excited.&lt;br /&gt;On April 29 I get to go to the Band Festival in Elko with my band. Band is so fun for me! Our songs are really, really good I think! We get graded on our performance! I hope we get a one.&lt;br /&gt;Today I used my gift card to Roy's that Katie gave me. I got sub sandwich and a mini pie. Alex, Rebecca, and Emily came too. We had fun.&lt;br /&gt;Last time I told you that I got our plant in Science to stand up it wasn't true. I was still always falling over. . . until today! I got it to actually really, for reals stand up!&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot of good news!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5530745626046671630?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5530745626046671630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5530745626046671630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5530745626046671630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5530745626046671630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/04/good-news.html' title='Good News'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4677000859845688570</id><published>2009-04-14T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T20:11:07.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Amazing Accomplishments</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Today I had a great day. It is rare that I feel so good about my day so this is special. Here are my amazing accomplishments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;te pizza for lunch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ame home from school with Jessica. She subbed for Mr. Thompson. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ompleted a day of school It&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;pened a book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ailed an e-mail to Chelsea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;racticed the piano!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;istened to Mr. Wolsey explain all about the rules in a court. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;gnored Carlos who talked constantly during math. (Well the best I could. He was sitting right behind me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ang a song as I made up the words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ad my school picture taken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ade the paper daisy Allex and I made for our project in science stay standing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;xercized!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;N&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ever gave up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ook a nap (This is definitely a first for me, but I was so tired.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;aw a video about sports in Health. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ffended no one (I hope)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;F&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;olded the socks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;hought I saw Linda Reed at the post office (It was someone else.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;pened my clarinet case and practiced the clarinet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;idn't go to play practice because the weather was bad and T-ball was canceled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;te bread and milk for dinner &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;elled "Hooray," I'm amazing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Hooray!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4677000859845688570?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4677000859845688570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4677000859845688570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4677000859845688570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4677000859845688570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-amazing-accomplishments.html' title='My Amazing Accomplishments'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-8573157827010149540</id><published>2009-04-03T11:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T12:51:09.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's My Birthday, I Can Cry If I Want To!</title><content type='html'>That is what my sisters and I have been singing all day. It is my birthday! I feel like the luckiest girl alive. I have so many nice people that love me so much. I just finished reading Thelma's blog. She wrote about her sisters. I'm copying her. I am so thankful for them. I'm also so thankful for the rest of my family. For my birthday I got so many special presents! Deseret and Liberty made me a huge poster with the Wicked Logo on it! It is soooo cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a cute outfit, a necklace, and a headband from my parents. I also get to go swimming with my friends later today for my birthday party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a jar of peanut butter and a bunch of graham crackers from Carolina. . . . . . . interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a thing of bubbles from Morgan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the coolest paper fooseball table that really works that Liberty and Hyrum made. I got a lot of other awesome things also! I am so thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We keep on singing "It's My Birthday, I Can Cry If I Want To," even though I don't really even feel like crying that much. I feel happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday self!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-8573157827010149540?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/8573157827010149540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=8573157827010149540' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8573157827010149540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8573157827010149540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-my-birthday-i-can-cry-if-i-want-to.html' title='It&apos;s My Birthday, I Can Cry If I Want To!'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-373096326516261980</id><published>2009-04-01T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T15:22:19.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation Schedule</title><content type='html'>Friday, March 27, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:00 pm-School is out. We start out for Carson City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:00-Still driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:00-Stop to eat in Fernley at Port of Subs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:30-Decide to go visit the Egberts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30-Reach our hotel in Carson City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:30-Fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, March 28, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:00-Wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30-Continental breakfast. (Get scared. It's the History Day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:00-Perform my Madeleine thing at the History Day. Be happy that it's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:00-Watch Desi's Performance. It is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12:00-El Pollo Loco, Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:00-Cool museum in Carson City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2:00-Awards Ceremony!  I won, (Not too much of a surprize since I didn't compete against anyone.)  Desi came in Second. We were sad she didn't win. She did really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2:30-Winners Meeting! I get to go to Washington D. C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:00-Go to our vacation house at Lake Tahoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday-Tuesday, March, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun relaxingness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to a new church!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playing Fuzball,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Movies,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playing on the beach,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being Happy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming Home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-373096326516261980?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/373096326516261980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=373096326516261980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/373096326516261980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/373096326516261980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/04/vacation-schedule.html' title='Vacation Schedule'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-10106832594824624</id><published>2009-03-15T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T19:49:30.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ides of March</title><content type='html'>It's the Ides of March today. That is March 15. It was a day full of bad luck for Julius Ceaser. I just hope it isn't for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I had a great day. Happy Birthday Lilianna and Travis!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-10106832594824624?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/10106832594824624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=10106832594824624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/10106832594824624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/10106832594824624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/03/ides-of-march.html' title='The Ides of March'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-3612813026499041509</id><published>2009-03-08T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T17:47:50.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amomodating</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;That's what moms are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;, Amomodating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. &lt;/strong&gt;It's a combination between Accommodating and Mom. Because that is what my mom is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;m &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;o &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; o &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;d &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;t &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;n &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;g!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's a good word, huh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It doesn't mean that my mom always lets me do whatever I want. It means she cares so much about me. She would go so far out of her way if she thought it would help me in any way. She'll be accommodating, but only in ways that will help her children&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Like when none of my friends were going to McDermit for the leadership conference. She bought me a bunch of snacks to share with the other girls on the bus. That is very amomodating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Like with the History Day Desi and I are preforming in. She bought me a bonnet. . . and a hat with a feather. . . and a really cool looking gun. She is driving us all the way to Carson City, and if we win she'll fly with us on a plane even though she hates flying, and even though it will cost a lot of money. That is about as amomodating as there is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think she got it from her mom. Today right when church got over Dad went over to Mom and said that we were going to have the missionaries and this lady to lunch. Mom didn't know what we were going to have to eat. Grandma said, "You can have our roast we were going to eat, your dad and I can find something else to eat." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;That is nice, huh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Actually it's amomodating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We didn't take Grandma's roast, but she did end up letting us borrow some ingredients that we needed and didn't have. She also made us a salad. That is definitely amomodating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Isn't great that we have such amomodating Moms all around?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-3612813026499041509?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/3612813026499041509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=3612813026499041509' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/3612813026499041509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/3612813026499041509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/03/amomodating.html' title='Amomodating'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-8970455368958518302</id><published>2009-02-22T14:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T14:34:50.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 things I Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I loved yesterday. It was the earthquake anniversary party at the school.  It was a lot of fun. All the &lt;em&gt;nice &lt;/em&gt;seventh graders that were there went over to the park. We played on the slide. We had a snowball fight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love how I love to laugh. People at mutual and in my class always say funny things. I laugh a lot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love our church. Today in sacrament meeting Venna Ballard spoke in Sacrament meeting. She talked about our church and how it was built. I used to want a new church like all the other ones in the world, but now I am glad we have a special one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love Wells. It is a special town. I like how everyone in Wells thinks they are special because I live they live in Wells. They are special. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love writing on my blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-8970455368958518302?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/8970455368958518302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=8970455368958518302' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8970455368958518302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8970455368958518302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/02/5-things-i-love.html' title='5 things I Love'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-3904320112207908531</id><published>2009-02-15T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T17:04:11.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Life of a Publicly Schooled Individual</title><content type='html'>Do you like my awesome, sofisticated, grown up sounding title?  I spent quite a while on it.  I want to tell you some interesting things about my life at Wells High School. (There is a Junior High there as well. That's were I go.)I want to tell you some of the boring things that no one cares about, but I like telling anyway, so you don't have to read this if you don't want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here goes. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the 3rd largest number of locker in the whole school. It's 96. Stephanie has number 97, and Adrian has number 98. To bad there aren't 100. That would be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At school I am in band. I am the only clarinet. Andrew did play the clarinet, but for only like 3 days. It is kind of fun to be the only one though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls bathroom at the school has purple stalls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the steps in the Responsible Desision Making Model (which I learned in Health) memorized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cost for the leadership trip in McDermit on March 6th is $25. I'm going. We are leaving the school at 5 in the morning and geting back at 9 at night! It'll be a long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I walk slow. My friends always leave me behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that three shapes of bacteria. They are Coccus, Bacillius, and Spirilium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We play the coolest songs in band. The best one is called Ancient Voices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote a writing assesment about the Bail-Out. I got a 90%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My math teacher is funny. Except he gives a lot of homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After school we sometimes have play practice for How the West was Done. I'm the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love public school. ( If you are still reading this you are a very nice person because most of that stuff was pretty boring.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-3904320112207908531?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/3904320112207908531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=3904320112207908531' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/3904320112207908531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/3904320112207908531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/02/from-life-of-publicly-schooled.html' title='From the Life of a Publicly Schooled Individual'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6562532727986926337</id><published>2009-01-18T15:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T08:25:38.507-08:00</updated><title type='text'>. . . but first we have to clean for five minutes. The Evil Plot</title><content type='html'>My mom has this sneaky way to get us to clean the house. It's an evil plot.  First she finds us. (We might be on the trampoline, reading a book, playing a game, watching a movie, or doing some nice, FUN activity.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; She that we can come for a snack, or come for dessert, or come to play Dutch Blitz, or come and to read in our book. Those are all nice FUN activity.  She never says come clean for five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we never notice that it is a evil plot to get us to clean. We just happily come. Well that is when Mom says, "Look at this nice dessert. " or "Think about how fun it will be to play Dutch Blitz". Then she says it. We can do that . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. . . but first we have to clean for five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when we remember, "Oh ya, she always does that. Why can't we remember! We could save ourselves from being victims of the evil plot. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a sad time. We are forced to clean for five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe everyone who reads this should join together and try to stop this evil plot forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6562532727986926337?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6562532727986926337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6562532727986926337' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6562532727986926337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6562532727986926337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/01/getting-ready.html' title='. . . but first we have to clean for five minutes. The Evil Plot'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6059268310297747438</id><published>2009-01-17T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T21:57:35.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>On Tuesday I am going to public school. I am really excited about it. I am also kind of scared. In one way it is coming to soon. But in another way it can't come soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are things we have done to get ready. On January 9th Mom and I went to the High School. We talked to Shelia. We got my schedule.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6059268310297747438?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6059268310297747438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6059268310297747438' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6059268310297747438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6059268310297747438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/01/on-tuesday-i-am-going-to-public-school.html' title=''/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-2333062425635397755</id><published>2009-01-06T17:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T18:03:26.571-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We are. . .</title><content type='html'>We are loud, crazy, silly, wild, funny, and amazing in our family. I love to be with my family. Living in our family is sort of an adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Desi singing "Popular" really loud and dancing with Liberty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Hyrum and Morgan chasing each other all around the house with guns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Liberty and I organizing a party after dinner on Liberty's bed, turning off the light, bringing about 14 million pillows, blankets, and a flashlight, and inviting everyone to come and scream and steal all the blankets and attacking each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Carolina giving everyone pieces of papers she scribbled on and telling them that it says that they're invited to a tea party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Hyrum drawing intricate pictures of Indiana Jones or Lego Castle Battle and spending an hour explaining it to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things like that happen here all of the time. We love it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-2333062425635397755?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/2333062425635397755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=2333062425635397755' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2333062425635397755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/2333062425635397755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title='We are. . .'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-1188974362451325525</id><published>2008-12-27T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T15:15:46.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Music</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.insurance-finance.com/gif/wicked.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 297px;" src="http://www.insurance-finance.com/gif/wicked.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am listening to the soundtrack to Wicked off the computer. It is just so amazing. I want to stay by the computer so I can listen. I decided to write a blog. When we saw the play of Wicked I was crying the whole time. My dad says I feel things deeply. It reminds me of why I love music so much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Christmas Grandma gave me the piano music of Wicked and High School. I've been trying to play it. I love it. I love music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-1188974362451325525?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/1188974362451325525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=1188974362451325525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1188974362451325525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/1188974362451325525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/12/music.html' title='Music'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4958609651362913484</id><published>2008-12-22T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T10:02:23.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It was that kind of Day</title><content type='html'>I'm sure you know about those kind of days when you are just having so much fun you can't believe it. I'm sure you have. It's especially wonderful when you weren't expecting to have nearly as much fun as you are having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That the kind of day I had on Saturday when my dad, Desi, Morgan, and me went to Salt Lake. It was great! We drove to my cousin Taylor's house. We spent our whole time there. It was the kind of day were you spend the whole time with you family. It was the kind of day when you can goof of with you cousins. It was the kind of day when you can give you cousin a present and she can give you one because it's Christmastime. It was the kind of day when you can show her your blog and together decide what the new background should look like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was that kind of day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the kind of day when you can get all the girl cousins over the age of nine and go out to the side of the road and wave and blow kisses and shout Merry Christmas to everyone that goes by. It was the kind of day where you have a big gingerbread house making contest, being on you cousin's team, and making the ugliest ginger bread house and still having the funnest time of all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was that kind of day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the kind of day where it's already 6:00 and you have to go home. It was the kind of day when you give your cousin a big hug and say good bye. She is moving to North Carolina. You will miss her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was that kind of day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4958609651362913484?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4958609651362913484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4958609651362913484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4958609651362913484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4958609651362913484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-was-that-kind-of-day.html' title='It was that kind of Day'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-5204714014979456613</id><published>2008-12-19T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T14:45:52.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Blog</title><content type='html'>I liked my old blog background but it is Christmas time. I tried on a whole bunch of Christmas backgrounds. This one is best I think. I can't wait for Christmas or the Club Hall program we are having tonight. I am an old crancky lady. It will be fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-5204714014979456613?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/5204714014979456613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=5204714014979456613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5204714014979456613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/5204714014979456613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-blog.html' title='Christmas Blog'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-7808786610661889489</id><published>2008-12-19T13:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T14:15:14.055-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing Dolls</title><content type='html'>Playing doll is really fun. I know because I have done it a lot. We do all kinds of things with our American Girl Dolls. We have birthday parties, we have our dolls go sledding when it is winter, we have them wade around in Boulder when it's summer. We have them skate around on ice. Playing with sisters and dolls is one of the funnest things a person can do. I think that anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday we got a really great idea. We were going to have a doll fashion show. For Key Boarding in school, Mom let me make programs and pretend score sheets for the teddy bear judges. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we finally finished school we went into mine and Desi's room. We had decided to have it there because that door has a lock. First we covered everything with sheets. We covered our beds,the window, our dressers, my bookshelf, (lucky me, I have a bookshelf) and our closet doors. Then we made the stage. It was a stool with a blanket over it with a cardboard box on top that was covered with two doll blankets and parts of the sheets that were covering my bookshelf and my dresser. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is a confusing sentence. Sorry if you can't understand it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also made a red carpet staircase out of a little table, a karaoke machine, the box that held Liberty's doll clothes, and a basket with Liberty's tea set. It was pretty except Liberty wasn't too happy about that arrangement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we brought in a stool that Liberty could stand on and shine a flashlight on the stage. We decorated the room with Christmas decorations from the Living room and a poinsettia flower from the Kitchen table. Last of all we brought in four chairs. They were fore Mom, Hyrum, Morgan, and Carolina. We were really excited to start. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During our show we had each doll do a talent, have a little interview, and model around. It was a huge success except Lina wanted her doll to perform which wasn't aloud and Hyrum kept talking. Those thing were to be expected. Other than that it was great. It was really fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we could look forward to cleaning up the mess!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-7808786610661889489?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/7808786610661889489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=7808786610661889489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/7808786610661889489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/7808786610661889489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/12/playing-dolls.html' title='Playing Dolls'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-9123702978846372646</id><published>2008-12-15T07:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T08:55:23.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What is Happening Right Now at the Johnson House?</title><content type='html'>If you would like the answer you are lucky. I can tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now It is 8:17 and Mom is making German Pancakes. I am at the computer righting this. My mom is sick. She just said into the phone,"I'd like to make an appointment. "It is sad.&lt;br /&gt;Hyrum is building a Star Wars Ship out of of Lego's. they are scattered across the kitchen table even though my mom is trying organize breakfast. He is also whistling constantly. It is a little bit annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberty is humming "Here comes Santa Clause" and coloring her homework from speech. It is a board game were you have to say an R word to move ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carolina is watching Cinderella 2. She has a huge blanket over her and about fifty stuffed animals and dolls set up on all the couches. She is so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morgan is putting on snow pants so he can go play outside. He loves playing outside a lot. It's sad because Hyrum will never ever voluntarily go outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deseret is in the corner of the living room making a secret Christmas present. That is all the information available for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad is at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is it. Now you know what is happening here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-9123702978846372646?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/9123702978846372646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=9123702978846372646' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/9123702978846372646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/9123702978846372646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-is-happening-right-now-at-johnson.html' title='What is Happening Right Now at the Johnson House?'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-4291736584782703531</id><published>2008-12-08T17:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:41:42.069-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Merry Christmastime'/><title type='text'>Christmas Said boo!</title><content type='html'>This year Christmas said boo to me.  It is Christmas time already.  It is crazy but I like it.  It is great.  Today I wrote my own version of Silent Night.  I even have piano music to it.  I am going to play it on Christmas Eve. &lt;br /&gt;      On Saturday we got our Christmas tree.  It was fun.  We went with the Ashbys and the Ballards.  We had hot chocolate and cookies.  Now we have a decorated tree.  It's so pretty. There are a zillion presents under there.  I can't wait to see them all opened. &lt;br /&gt;     Here is poem I wrote. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Christmas Season&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Christmas season has sprung.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's something quite magical and special.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Christmas can be rustic and quaint &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;or &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;brightly colored and new.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When I walk into the room were the Christmas tree stands.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It greets me with warm loving boughs.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-4291736584782703531?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/4291736584782703531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=4291736584782703531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4291736584782703531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/4291736584782703531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-said-boo_08.html' title='Christmas Said boo!'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6058018579996702107</id><published>2008-12-02T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T16:07:05.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Running is hard. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I know. I have been running every day for about 3 weeks. This is my typical experience. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7:00, I wake up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7:02, I complain to Deseret about how hard running is and how I don't want to go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7:03, Deseret tells me that I don't have to run at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7:04, I tell Deseret that I want to run a marathon and be skinny so I do have to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7:05, Deseret tells me to just go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7:06, I just go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know it sounds hard, but my dad bought me expensive running shoes that are part orange and a little bit black. School colors right. There's just one problem. They don't fit. We can take them back though within 30 days even though I wore them outside. They will still let me.&lt;br /&gt;The good thing is that Dad usually goes with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6058018579996702107?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6058018579996702107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6058018579996702107' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6058018579996702107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6058018579996702107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/12/running.html' title='Running'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-709269965681509001</id><published>2008-10-12T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T18:52:43.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow!</title><content type='html'>Hi, I haven't written here for so long. I am going to start again. I can't believe how fast time is going by. Summer is so over. Fall is definately here! It even snowed today and yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it! We played in it all day yesterday. I can't wait until later until we can sled on our great sledding hill. There's just one problem. I really need snowboots soon. Someday I'll get some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another good thing is that we got to have hot chocolate for breakfast yesterday. We also went to the Neff Mill Dinner last night. For those of you that don't know, it is when the Neff's in Ruby Valley come and talk about there mill. Believe me, it's really, really boring. All the kids go outside and play hide-and-go-seek or freeze tag. It gets so cold though. I learned a lesson last year and brought a coat, a hat, and gloves. I was really glad I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it has pretty much been great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-709269965681509001?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/709269965681509001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=709269965681509001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/709269965681509001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/709269965681509001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/10/snow.html' title='Snow!'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-8079985639470768087</id><published>2008-06-30T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T18:52:43.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Problem Every Day</title><content type='html'>Last week we went to Salt Lake to be in a singing and dancing show called Sunshine Generation run by my aunt Anne. That part was fun but, I want to tell you about our problems. We really had one each of 4 days of our trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;On Sunday after church we started towards Salt Lake. Dad wasn't with us. He was going to come to see the last performance on Thursday. Everything was great until we stopped in Wendover and got gas. When we got back on the road, whenever we went past 50 mph the car would just shake SO bad. It was scary. So we went back into Wendover to find a tire store. There was only one, and it was closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't know what to do, so we called Grandpa. We knew that he would know exactly what to do. He did! He asked if we had had our car washed lately. We had, the day before. He said that at a car wash sometimes there's dirt under your car and the clean part of it, but some is still there. So we needed to go to a car wash and wash under the car really well. Isn't Grandpa so amazing?&lt;br /&gt;We tried one drive through car wash. It didn't work. Mom wanted Dad to come and help her. ( Which might not have been necessary.) He came as fast as he could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we where waiting we went to Pizza Hut, and a park. When Dad came we went to a few car washes were you wash the car yourself. Finally one of them worked! Except it was 9:00 by then and we had to stay in a lame hotel in Wendover. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day (Tuesday) we got up early and started towards Salt Lake. We had practice for the show at 8:00. We didn't know where Anne's new house was. My mom tried to call her but the sound on her phone wouldn't work. I thought I could fix it, but I couldn't. We could see that Anne was trying to call us, but we couldn't here her. We had to stop at my Grandma's house to get directions. We were late for the first practice. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, we had a show that day and we were at Ikea. We were checking out and had 40 minutes to get to the show. That was plenty of time. . . or was it. No, it wasn't. We finally got all of our stuff to the car, and got everything piled in the car except a box with an unmade bookcase inside. It was heavy. Pretty quick we found that there was no way that bookcase would fit in our car when it was that full. We thought that when Dad came he could take it home in his truck on Thursday. We asked an employee if we could just leave it at Ikea until Thursday. They said no. Then we had to return it. Then Hyrum would not leave the play place and we had trouble with that.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, finally we got in our car. We only had 10 minutes to get to the show. We weren't going to make it. We would be late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We were OK though until right out of Ikea there was a red light. There were no cars around at all, and the light was really SO long. We waited and waited and waited. Finally, since there was no one around and we were LATE, we just ran the light. Nobody saw us. Except. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . a policeman! Oh no!!! We got pulled over. That policeman was really, really slow. Mom was almost crying. Then finally, finally we were going. The show was already over hath over. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news was they had technical difficulties, and we were right on time!&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday I sleeping over with my cousins when my Mom, Hyrum, and Carolina were at Joannes. Lina needed to go to the bathroom. When she was on the toilet she suddenly decided to take her shirt off and drop it in the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom had promised that they could go get ice cream across the street. It was 9:00 and Lina need a shirt. The only place they could find that was open was the Distribution Center. Oh well. Mom bought her a really fancy, long, white dress. She wore it to get ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday there actually was no bad thing. Our last performance was amazing. I think. Then we went to Olive Garden. It was a great trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-8079985639470768087?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/8079985639470768087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=8079985639470768087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8079985639470768087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/8079985639470768087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/06/problem-every-day.html' title='A Problem Every Day'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-9102332197947959316</id><published>2008-06-12T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T18:52:43.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mowing Lawns</title><content type='html'>Now that I am 12 I can help with my dad's lawn mowing business. I get to mow on the ride-on lawnmower. I was scared at first. I didn't want to get my leg cut off or anything, but now that Dad has showed me how to do it, it is fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love mowing lawns. My dad wanted to have me to mow my Great Grandma's lawn, which is really big. I was excited until I found out he would leave me there alone after he made me a path. I was scared I would mess up or something would go wrong and he wouldn't be there.&lt;br /&gt;He made a path and then left to mow or weed-eat somewhere else. I got on the mower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mowed for along time. I was getting bored. I was humming the song, "Fabulous", from High School Musical 2, (I'm always humming something). I started singing it out loud. I love to sing but usually only hum when other people are around. I sang for along time while I mowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought, "This is so fun!" Now every time I mow that part of her lawn I sing "Fabulous". It's great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've thought of other songs for other places I mow. In our backyard I sing "Oh my Cornelia Corncob Doll. In the front I sing "Let's Go Surfin' Now"or "Lollipop". At the W.R.E.C. building in the back I sing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could them all to you. I love mowing lawns and making money, but I singing the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-9102332197947959316?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/9102332197947959316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=9102332197947959316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/9102332197947959316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/9102332197947959316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/06/mowing-llawns.html' title='Mowing Lawns'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8839117214304768561.post-6789924618595284097</id><published>2008-06-05T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T18:52:43.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me</title><content type='html'>Hi.   I am 12.  I am happy.  I have a great life.  I'll tell you about some of the things I like. &lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt; I like my family, seeing my cousins, plays,  the Missoula Children's Theater, music, singing, jumping on the trampoline, playing the piano . . . sometimes,  American Girl,  americangirl.com, summer, winter, if it's not too long, spring, fall,  grass, sunsets, board games, card games, parties,  staying up late, Mutual, my bed, good books, earrings,  food, especially chocolate,  swimming, writing poetry, rain, roses, Space Mountain, cross stiching, making cookies, eating cookies, watching exciting movies, butterflies,  headbands, and sledding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably like more stuff than this, but you're probably getting bored, and I can't think of anything else.  Now here's some stuff I don't like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like the dentist, gardening,  math, school, running, doing dishes, folding socks, all animals except butterflies, and hiking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all about me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8839117214304768561-6789924618595284097?l=clarissacoralee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/feeds/6789924618595284097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8839117214304768561&amp;postID=6789924618595284097' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6789924618595284097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8839117214304768561/posts/default/6789924618595284097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clarissacoralee.blogspot.com/2008/06/me.html' title='Me'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05247805431496451327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDfExpPNjJ8/TaTh-OgbNwI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Vd3LLQOcLh8/s220/MFE.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
