<?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-1663620173024102476</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:11:33.728-04:00</updated><category term='fam-dam-ily'/><category term='Week in Review'/><category term='Furry'/><category term='Yummy'/><category term='Study'/><category term='Celebrity Skin'/><category term='Workplace'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='Booky Talk'/><category term='I love TV'/><title type='text'>Eat Sleep Work Study</title><subtitle type='html'>40 hours working, 34 hours studying, 56 hours sleeping. When do I get to eat?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-8014828085450438364</id><published>2009-03-19T19:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T20:06:24.391-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Day</title><content type='html'>Hey guys! I've moved my blog over to &lt;a href="http://eatsleepworkstudy.wordpress.com/"&gt;eatsleepworkstudy.wordpress.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're visiting me directly, you'll probably be automatically redirected. But if you are reading me through your favorite reader, you'll need to change the feed to my current one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. Now onward to our next adventure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-8014828085450438364?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/8014828085450438364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=8014828085450438364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8014828085450438364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8014828085450438364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2009/03/moving-day.html' title='Moving Day'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-1731095311469555954</id><published>2009-03-06T19:33:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T19:57:36.434-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Thing</title><content type='html'>Last week we were watching a PBS special on wolves and coyotes that live in Yellowstone National Park. While they howled and did the things that wolves and coyotes do, Louie took notice. He was fascinated with the sound and walked right over to the TV and stared at them for a while. I don't know how good his vision is, but he stared a while, then sat back down and stared and then got back up and stared. It was really quit amusing. Then, he decided that the dogs must actually be behind the TV, and he kept investigating around the TV. In the eight years we've had him, I'd never seen him respond to something on TV. Maybe it's H's sweet HD TV we've got now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also found a jump drive that had some old pictures on it, including some cute shots of Louie. This one is great:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/SbHDGoQ8zTI/AAAAAAAABes/EMIHnonBtJ4/s1600-h/Louie_Crate2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/SbHDGoQ8zTI/AAAAAAAABes/EMIHnonBtJ4/s320/Louie_Crate2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310239954301668658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H's suggestion for a caption: I'm a hot dog. Get it? Get it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Louie looks so young and puppy-ish in that picture. He's got a bit of gray beard now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one of Maggie is awesome too:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/SbHCyHyJ11I/AAAAAAAABek/quALNFsxIFI/s1600-h/Louie_Crate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/SbHCyHyJ11I/AAAAAAAABek/quALNFsxIFI/s320/Louie_Crate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310239601985181522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is a crazy outside cat now and doesn't do cute stuff like climb into file drawers. Mainly she comes into the house when it is cold and then hacks up hair balls in weird places and runs back outside as soon as she possibly can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why I am talking about my pets after a month of silence? Cause there isn't much else to talk about that isn't depressing. H is out of a job. My job is cutting hours. A big part of my job has become covering other people's mistakes or responsibilities because they aren't. The industry is depressing. I can't afford school right now. I seem to have lost all of my creative impulses. And on and on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am focusing on my cute pets and my cute husband. Other good things? I purchased the first three seasons of "Homicide: Life on the Street," one of my favorite TV series of all time. I've been watching a couple episodes a night. I have great friends, even though we can't afford to go out to dinner and drinks as much anymore. We got a Wii. Even though H doesn't have a job right now, she's become the housewife I've always wanted. She did a bunch of my laundry and gave Louie a bath this week. So, I am trying to remember the good things. Like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/SbHFzY2CO9I/AAAAAAAABe0/6UlSDc82zzU/s1600-h/172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/SbHFzY2CO9I/AAAAAAAABe0/6UlSDc82zzU/s320/172.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310242922279615442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Louie checking out some birds on our last trip to the Keys. We can't tell if he really likes birds or really hates them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-1731095311469555954?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/1731095311469555954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=1731095311469555954' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/1731095311469555954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/1731095311469555954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-thing.html' title='A Good Thing'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/SbHDGoQ8zTI/AAAAAAAABes/EMIHnonBtJ4/s72-c/Louie_Crate2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-2650434601436069243</id><published>2009-02-04T14:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T14:51:16.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hungry Hungry Hippo</title><content type='html'>I am going to ignore yet another long blog hiatus, and instead share some tasty recipes. We had an awesome Super Bowl Party last weekend and shared some delicious food. I thought I'd put some of the recipes all in one place, for prosperities sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jacksonville.com/interact/blog/elizabeth_middlebrooks/2009-02-03/another_cooking_blog_biscuits_that_may_or_may_not_ch"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EMB's Award-Winning Old-fashioned biscuits (makes about a dozen)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 cups self-rising flour&lt;br /&gt;1/3 cup butter-flavored shortening&lt;br /&gt;2/3 cup milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix together flour and shortening, using a fork or a pastry cutter. Add milk and mix with a fork until all ingredients are just moistened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roll out dough on a floured surface, and cut into rounds using a biscuit cutter or a glass. Place on a baking sheet with edges touching, and bake at 425 until lightly browned on top, about 8-10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suggestions: It is really, REALLY important to handle the dough as little as possible. If it's handled too much, the biscuits will be smooth and tough on top. I like to pat the dough out with my hands, rather than using a rolling pin, but as long as you don't roll it out too flat, a rolling pin works just as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jacksonville.com/interact/blog/2008-12-30/yep_another_cooking_blog"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EMB's Chicken Chilli&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken Chili (makes 4 servings)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1T canola oil&lt;br /&gt;1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breast, cubed&lt;br /&gt;1 cup chicken broth&lt;br /&gt;1.5T cornstarch&lt;br /&gt;1 can (about 15 oz.) Great Northern beans, drained&lt;br /&gt;1 can (14.5 oz.) fire-roasted tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;1 cup frozen corn kernels&lt;br /&gt;1.5T onion powder&lt;br /&gt;0.5 tsp cayenne&lt;br /&gt;0.5 tsp chili powder (I used about 1.5 tsp, but I like chili very spicy)&lt;br /&gt;0.5 tsp garlic powder&lt;br /&gt;0.25 tsp cumin&lt;br /&gt;0.25 tsp oregano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a large skillet, cook the chicken in oil over medium heat until no longer pink, about 5-10 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stir in broth and cornstarch. When the cornstarch is dissolved, add beans, tomatoes, corn and seasonings. Bring to a boil; cover. Reduce hear and simmer 10-20 minutes, until soup reaches the desired consistency, stirring occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serve with tortilla chips, sour cream, shredded cheddar cheese and green onions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suggestions: I cooked the chicken in a Dutch oven and just added all the ingredients to that to avoid transferring between dishes. I think to make the chili in a skillet, you'd need a pretty darn big skillet, so I'd cook the chicken then transfer to a medium or large saucepan to complete the recipe. I also neglected to drain the tomatoes, and it kept the chili very liquid-y, which I didn't much care for, so if you want a thicker consistency, make sure to drain the beans AND the tomatoes. I don't think it's especially spicy, but I really like spicy food and am not terribly sensitive to it. However, if you're not wild about a lot of spice, just tone down the seasonings a little bit and taste as you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notes: She added some black beans as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rachaelrayshow.com/food/recipes/david-garrards-buffalo-chicken-dip/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David Garrard's Buffalo Chicken Dip&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ingredients&lt;br /&gt;1 8-ounce package cream cheese&lt;br /&gt;2 cups cooked chicken (a store-bought rotisserie chicken works best), shredded&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup buffalo wing sauce, recommended brand Texas Pete&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons butter, melted&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup blue cheese dressing (eyeball it)&lt;br /&gt;1/4 to 1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese (eyeball it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prep:&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven to 300°F.&lt;br /&gt;Cover the bottom of an 8x8" dish or pie plate with cream cheese.&lt;br /&gt;In a large mixing bowl, combine the shredded chicken, wing sauce and butter, and pour over the cream cheese-filled dish or pie plate.&lt;br /&gt;Top with just enough blue cheese dressing and mozzarella cheese to cover (adding too much cheese will cause a thick skin to form that will make eating the dip difficult once the cheese cools).&lt;br /&gt;Heat the dip in the oven for 20 minutes. Serve with Scoops (Tortillas or Fritos) alongside for dipping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This dip went fast. Like 10 minutes. Delicious. I love David Garrard.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken Sate with Spicy Peanut Dipping Sauce (From America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, trimmed&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup soy sauce&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup vegetable oil&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup minced fresh cilantro&lt;br /&gt;3 tbs. ketchup&lt;br /&gt;2 garlic cloves, minced&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp. tabasco sauce&lt;br /&gt;4 scallions, sliced thin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Freeze the trimmed chicken for about 30 minutes, then slice it super thin.&lt;br /&gt;2. Combine all the remaining ingrediants and pour over the chicken strips. Marinate for at least 30 minutes, but not more than an hour.&lt;br /&gt;3. Put the chicken strips on skewers. I recommend you soak the skewers in water for about 40 minutes beforehand. If you can't, make sure to cover up the exposed skewer wood with foil so it doesn't catch on fire.&lt;br /&gt;4. Adjust an oven rack about 6 inches from the broiler element and heat the broiler on high. Put the skewers on the broiler pan and put in the oven.&lt;br /&gt;5. The recipe says that you should broil 8 minutes, until fully cooked, flipping halfway through. I did 6 minutes on one side and 4 or so on the other side. Just keep an eye on them, because broiling can go awry very quickly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spicy Peanut Sauce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup peanut butter, creamy or chunky&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup hot water&lt;br /&gt;3 tbs. fresh lime juice&lt;br /&gt;2 tbs. ketchup&lt;br /&gt;1 tbs. soy sauce&lt;br /&gt;1 tbs. dark brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;1 tbs. minced fresh cilantro&lt;br /&gt;2 scallions, sliced thin&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 tsp. Tabasco&lt;br /&gt;1 garlic clove, minced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whisk the peanut butter and hot water together until smooth. Add in the remaining ingredients. Serve. Do not leave out the lime juice! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: As with all things I make - I think I probably doubled the garlic and halved the cilantro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starving now. Must go find food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-2650434601436069243?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/2650434601436069243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=2650434601436069243' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/2650434601436069243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/2650434601436069243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2009/02/hungry-hungry-hippo.html' title='Hungry Hungry Hippo'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-4264464493922098789</id><published>2008-12-24T16:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T17:13:49.609-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Photo Goodness</title><content type='html'>So, a few of my favorite friends have received cameras for Christmas, and I wanted to share a few of my favorite photo links:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photojojo.com/"&gt;Photojojo.&lt;/a&gt; Subscribe to this newsletter. They have great ideas, an active forum and lots of good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://digital-photography-school.com/blog/"&gt;Digital Photography School.&lt;/a&gt; Very active forum, weekly contests. Some very bad and/or cheesy photography on there, but a good place to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theimageisfound.com"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Image is Found&lt;/a&gt;. Wedding photographers in San Diego. Doesn't sound that exciting, right? Well, they are awesome. They have a great info page, with lists of all the equipment they use. Their blog includes lots of non-wedding photos. They also teach photo workshops, and I swear to God, if I had a bunch of money sitting around, I would totally go to one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;365 Photo Project. There is some info on &lt;a href="http://photojojo.com/content/tutorials/project-365-take-a-photo-a-day/"&gt;Photojojo&lt;/a&gt; and on &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/project_365/"&gt;flickr&lt;/a&gt; - take and post a picture every day. I am seriously considering doing this in 2009. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/"&gt;Picasa&lt;/a&gt;. Some people love flickr, but I like Picasa, because I worship at the church of Google. There is also &lt;a href="http://www.zooomr.com/"&gt;zooomr&lt;/a&gt;, which allows users to have more control over their photos. I've had some user issues though. So proceed with caution. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jpgmag.com/"&gt;Jpg Magazine.&lt;/a&gt; Good stuff. You can submit info for their monthly publication. Its pretty awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://filmisnotdead.blogspot.com/"&gt;Film is Not Dead&lt;/a&gt;. This guy is awesome. He still uses film. And he does workshops - which I would love to attend. Another inspiring site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.photoshop.com/express/landing.html"&gt;Photoshop Express&lt;/a&gt;. Its a fun, kind of online, user-friendly version of photoshop that allows you to do some creative stuff. Don't go too far though. There is a fine line between cool and fucking ugly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone wants to do the 365 Project, let me know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-4264464493922098789?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/4264464493922098789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=4264464493922098789' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4264464493922098789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4264464493922098789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/12/photo-goodness.html' title='Photo Goodness'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-6789020266936760584</id><published>2008-12-14T22:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T22:57:39.633-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary</title><content type='html'>On Dec. 7, 1999, Dick broke my heart. We'd been very good friends for a while and had found ourselves, on many occasions, well... making out. On the couch, in the bed, on the floor. Whatever. Anyway, I finally told him we needed to figure out what we were doing, and he declared that he wasn't ready to be a "boyfriend" and he just wanted to be friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. I went home to my apartment and cried. And then I called my mom and cried. And then my mom chose that moment to tell me that she was engaged. And I cried some more. And then I pulled myself together and said I would give him a month, and if he hadn't changed his mind by then, I was moving on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a week. On Dec. 14, 1999, Dick told me that he had thought about it and he wanted to be my boyfriend. We celebrated by making out on the couch in his living room, in the house where we still live today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past nine years... We've both gotten fatter. I've had many a medical mishap. We quit smoking. He started smoking again. We've realized we are both slobs. We got a cat, then a dog, and then somehow adopted two other cats. We've moved my sister approx. 18.5 million times. He made my try frog legs, eel and falafel, all without incident. (For some reason I was most afraid of the falafel.) We've fought. A lot. I threw a bowl of sherbet at him, he punched a hole in the wall. (Separate incidents.) We've rearranged our living room furniture a billion times, and at one point, threw all the furniture away and started over again. (You can do that when everything you own was purchased at a garage sale or a thrift store.) Until last year, we'd only spent 3 nights apart during our entire relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In nine years, there have been some terrible moments. Moments of doubt, personal and shared. Complete and utter anger. We've had the mundane and the extreme. Throughout it all, I've never lost faith in our ability to make things work. I still get butterflies in my stomach when I think of our first kiss. And I still get giddy when he says my name (oh my god! he knows my name!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Dick, thanks for driving me crazy, in a million wonderful and challenging ways. I hope we make it 90 more years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-6789020266936760584?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/6789020266936760584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=6789020266936760584' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/6789020266936760584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/6789020266936760584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/12/anniversary.html' title='Anniversary'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-6461840603196186513</id><published>2008-12-12T20:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T21:20:40.435-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Afterglow</title><content type='html'>Wednesday was our company-provided "Holiday Meal," which at the time was delicious, although we decided the pumpkin pie was definitely better last year. Wednesday's meals were to be my last solid food before my colonoscopy this a.m. So, when I started getting sick on Wednesday night, I was really unhappy. I was determined to eat my "last supper," which I interrupted multiple times to run to the bathroom. I continued to be sick through the rest of the night and the a.m. When I arrived at work Thursday a.m., I found out that everyone was sick. Literally. The "holiday meal" had sickened hundreds of people. Many called in, or left early. I was planning on going home early anyway, because the preparations for my procedure had to begin at 1 p.m. Of course, by that time I was so dehydrated and sick anyway, the prep was kind of disastrous. Late in the night I puked so hard that I burst little blood vessels all around my eyes. So very pretty.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;Side note:&lt;br /&gt;It's moments like those when I am glad I have Dick. He's seen me in millions of horrible, humiliating medical moments and never shuddered or looked away. He's always held my hand and comforted me. He totally bought into the whole "in sickness and in health" thing. &lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite feeling like crap, and having my body assaulted by bad food and medical science, all I thought about all day Thursday was food. All the food I loved but couldn't eat. A short list:&lt;br /&gt;toast with peanut butter&lt;br /&gt;oatmeal with lots of brown sugar and a wee bit of milk&lt;br /&gt;biscuits and sausage gravy&lt;br /&gt;an angelo's coney dog with mustard and onions, with one of their awesome chocolate shakes&lt;br /&gt;root beer float&lt;br /&gt;coca cola&lt;br /&gt;doughnuts, hot and fresh from KK&lt;br /&gt;publix birthday cake&lt;br /&gt;spaghetti with homemade meat sauce&lt;br /&gt;mashed potatoes and gravy&lt;br /&gt;white rice, cooked in chicken broth with salt and pepper (when I was young, I would cook that for myself if I felt sick. Very soothing.)&lt;br /&gt;ramen noodles (chicken flavor)&lt;br /&gt;cold pizza sitting in the fridge, mocking me&lt;br /&gt;bbq pork&lt;br /&gt;fried chicken&lt;br /&gt;full fat chocolate pudding&lt;br /&gt;buckeyes&lt;br /&gt;boil cookies (that's what my family called them. Some people call them no bake cookies.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the short list, people. The laxative stuff was awful. Being sick the night before sucked. Puking all over the bathroom was painful. But the worst was imagining all the foods I loved, and couldn't eat. Which I totally did to myself. On the plus side, I really, really, really enjoyed my first post-procedure meal - biscuits and gravy and sausage and pancakes from Cracker Barrel. I took my time with the meal and savored each bite, thinking about the textures and the flavors. I took little mental breaks to evaluate by body and stomach and how things were going. I left some food behind, which is something I always work on, but don't always accomplish. And I felt satisfied by not stuffed afterwords. And exhausted, a result of the anesthesia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I may have tortured myself with visions of delicious food, but I feel like I've come out on the other side with a better idea of my relationship to food - and how I should eat based on what I want/need versus what is going serve an emotional need. I hope I can build on this and I am not just experiencing some sort of  post-colonoscopy afterglow. If that is even possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-6461840603196186513?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/6461840603196186513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=6461840603196186513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/6461840603196186513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/6461840603196186513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/12/afterglow.html' title='Afterglow'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-8363283612156129330</id><published>2008-12-09T19:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T19:52:29.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Literary Confection</title><content type='html'>It is time, my friends, for me to address the Twilight phenomenon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am against all things Twilight-related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. I said it. I will not read the books or watch the movie(s). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I love vampires. And not in the creepy, gothic high school chick way. (The "I love vampires because I want Lestat to find me and make me a vampire and make me whole because I am sad and twisty" way.) In fact, as the girls in my high school succumbed to the pleasures of all of Anne Rice's vampire novels, I resisted. But, a couple years later, my dad read some of them, and recommended them. So I started. And I never read them in order, and I don't think I read all of them, but I really enjoyed both The Vampire Chronicles books and the New Tales of the Vampires. They are pure literary confection. Delicious and consumable. (Well, with the exception of Memnoch the Devil, which warped my mind in a way that put me off my Anne Rice kick for YEARS.) And I refuse to read any of the stuff she wrote after she was born again. Her books were wonderful because they were so sacrilege. (Her earliest stuff was erotica!) I don't need Jesus all up in there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I love vampires. One reason I love them? Cause they are ALL ABOUT SEX. Even if they aren't having sex, the entire literary theme is about sex and power. And I believe that it is done best when you mix the two. Which leads me to my Number One Reason Why I Hate The Twilight Books: no sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is only so much heavy petting and dry humping a girl can take. You can't have a vampire novel where that is all that happens. Because vampires, are in essence, about giving into those urges. And we all know why there is no sex in the books, which leads me to my Number Two Reason Why I Hate the Twilight Books: Stephanie Meyers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so you all know that I grew up Mormon, and I left the church when I was 13. As a result of my "Mormon experience" I will probably never be involved in organized religion again. But that is a whole other post. Anyway, I have a natural suspicion of Mormons anyway. So, when I heard this Mormon housewife was writing sex-less vampire novels, I actually found it personally offensive. Really? The Mormons have to mess with my sexy vampires too? They can't just leave my dysfunctional childhood alone? (I have issues, I know.) But, my distaste of the Mormons has been fueled by their recent support of &lt;a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2008/nov/17/nation/na-mormons17"&gt;California's Proposition 8&lt;/a&gt;. I grew up in the church, and I know the strength of their "convictions." And the Mormons really don't like &lt;a href="http://tinyurl.com/63dpjd"&gt;homosexuals&lt;/a&gt;. I, on the other hand, love homosexuals. (And I find that a good homosexual relationship really spices up a vampire novel, just so you know.) So, Stephanie Meyer may not agree with her church on this issue, but she has openly labeled herself as a Mormon in almost every freaking interview she's given, so I am going to assume that she is comfortable with her beliefs. That's fine. However, having grown up in the church, I know that every good Mormon gives 10% of their income to the church. I tithed 10% of my allowance. I know Stephanie Meyers is tithing 10% of her income. That's definitely her choice. However, by buying her books and seeing her movie(s) I am giving her income. And 10% of that income is going to the Mormon church. And the Mormon church is using that income to support legislation that I believe infringes on the civil rights of good tax-paying, law-abiding citizens of America, who also happen to be gay. So, I've made the choice to boycott her work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her books may be fantastic and I may actually enjoy the lack of sex (not) but I can't finance the activities of the Mormon church. I am still working of all the bad karma from telling my babysitter that she was going to hell because she wasn't a Mormon. If you're out there, Trailer Park Babysitter, I am sorry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. If you are looking for an alternate series of literary confection, check out &lt;a href="http://www.dianagabaldon.com/"&gt;Diana Gabaldon&lt;/a&gt;'s Outlander series. They will make you dream about hot Scottish rogues. Mmmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-8363283612156129330?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/8363283612156129330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=8363283612156129330' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8363283612156129330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8363283612156129330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/12/literary-confection.html' title='Literary Confection'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-1332812494850818058</id><published>2008-12-04T20:24:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T21:21:24.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Pictures</title><content type='html'>Wow. I really suck at blogging. Here's what I've been doing the past couple months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August: JennBert's Big Fat Wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiEuzGDGSI/AAAAAAAABbs/bB4kAnbeuN0/s1600-h/IMG_1737.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiEuzGDGSI/AAAAAAAABbs/bB4kAnbeuN0/s320/IMG_1737.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276112902988962082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;September: Pandas in Atlanta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiHVud2agI/AAAAAAAABb0/vMkNtjVs494/s1600-h/167-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiHVud2agI/AAAAAAAABb0/vMkNtjVs494/s320/167-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276115770784770562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;September: Obama in Jacksonville&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiHreNmV2I/AAAAAAAABb8/MoDe5s12ZB4/s1600-h/Obama_Closeup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiHreNmV2I/AAAAAAAABb8/MoDe5s12ZB4/s320/Obama_Closeup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276116144378763106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October: Halloween (I was a black widow, Dick was my prey)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiMQmt1UtI/AAAAAAAABcM/m8DtIv0pbxU/s1600-h/Halloween_2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiMQmt1UtI/AAAAAAAABcM/m8DtIv0pbxU/s320/Halloween_2008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276121180363117266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November: Baby Amelia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiMQxXyksI/AAAAAAAABcU/1yJOXcUd0OA/s1600-h/IMG_2711-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiMQxXyksI/AAAAAAAABcU/1yJOXcUd0OA/s320/IMG_2711-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276121183223452354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November: Thanksgiving and Fireworks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiMRdhXAhI/AAAAAAAABcc/M45gnuiZDAQ/s1600-h/IMG_0732.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiMRdhXAhI/AAAAAAAABcc/M45gnuiZDAQ/s320/IMG_0732.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276121195074748946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other highlights:&lt;br /&gt;Dick has been traveling for work almost weekly. This means I've spent a lot of time watching TV. And reading. (Time I could have spent blogging, I guess.) I've grown tired of Grey's Anatomy. One of my work BFF's got laid off. In fact, a ton of people got laid off. Next week I am having an endoscopy and colonoscopy because I have a random puking problem. (I am not pregnant, but thanks for considering that.) Work is stressful, but I am supposed to be thankful that I have a job. I still hate Hardee's commercials.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-1332812494850818058?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/1332812494850818058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=1332812494850818058' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/1332812494850818058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/1332812494850818058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/12/six-pictures.html' title='Six Pictures'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/STiEuzGDGSI/AAAAAAAABbs/bB4kAnbeuN0/s72-c/IMG_1737.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-243100758046988492</id><published>2008-07-27T21:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T21:47:47.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Talk: What was up with that two-headed dog?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I saw the X Files movie this weekend. As PMG said when we left, "I want to believe this was a good movie."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me start by saying I was a devoted X-Files fan. (I believe we called ourselves X-Philes. God, I am a dork. I am so glad I found someone to marry me.) I videotaped almost every episode (before Season 7). I read X-files message boards. I named my boobs Mulder and Scully. I planned my wedding to David Duchovny. I even liked the first X-Files movie, even though it sucked, on principle alone.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was pretty excited about the movie, though I had pretty low expectations. Why? Seasons 8 and 9, that's why. Anyway, the movie ended up being a little bit disappointing and a little bit awesome. I think they did a really good job staying true to the personalities of Mulder and Scully, and their chemistry was as strong as ever. (Actually, I think there was an extra dose of sexuality in there. But I am in love with David Duchovney, so that might just be me.) The strongest part of the movie, by far, was their relationship. The plot... well, it was not as strong as I had hoped. Most X-Files fans know that there are two types of episodes - the "conspiracy" episodes and the "x-files case" episodes. I preferred the "x-files case" shows because it was hard to keep track of all the conspiracy crap. The movie was a pretty weak "x-file case" storyline. I think the writers spent so much time working on the main characters that they forgot that we should actually care about the case and the side characters. And there were some weird plot holes that pissed me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;****THERE MAY BE SPOILERS HERE***BE WARNED***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Examples:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the movie, they are searching for a missing FBI agent. By the time Mulder and Scully get on the case, they've been searching for the missing agent for about 48 hours or so. And yet, halfway into the movie, they discover she swam at a local pool regularly. This is the freaking FBI! They should/would have discovered that information about a missing person, specifically one of their own, much earlier in the timeline.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They find a severed arm, and the toxicology findings include an animal tranquilizer. The psychic says he hears dogs barking around the girl. Now, I don't know about you, but that would lead me to find out everything I can about that animal tranquilizer, including if it is only available by prescription, and then find out who in the local area sells it. Like perhaps a feed store, directly across from the freaking pool where our missing FBI agent swam everyday. Hmmm... If only we had access to computers and stuff, like if we were in the FBI!!!!???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The missing agent apparently had no friends or family, cause the only "related" people we saw were FBI agents. And although the crux of the storyline is finding the agent before she dies, the audience is given very little information about her. Honestly, just being an FBI agent isn't enough. It may be enough for Mulder and Scully, but it isn't for the audience, who has no reason to care. They could have at least made her a former student of Scully, or something. Nope.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****END OF BITCHING AND/OR SPOILERS****&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, for the true X-files fan, I would have to say that it was a satisfying look into Mulder and Scully's lives. I would actually watch it again, just because it reminded me how much I loved watching these characters. Or how much I loved Mulder. Or how much I coveted Scully's haircolor. Whatever, I am a simple person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-243100758046988492?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/243100758046988492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=243100758046988492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/243100758046988492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/243100758046988492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/07/movie-talk-what-was-up-with-that-two.html' title='Movie Talk: What was up with that two-headed dog?'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-7290411512535297542</id><published>2008-07-24T23:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T23:26:19.744-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What do I do? What do I do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I haven't posted in a while. Why? Because I have gone 24 freaking days without my July Franklin Planner refill. And apparently I am useless without it. I am pretty sure I've just spent the past 24 days skating by on my good looks and charm. And a desperate need for a paycheck. I have more to say. Really, I do. But, I won't be able to sort it out until tomorrow when I have a couple minutes alone with my planner. We'll declare our love for each other and begin our journey towards the future. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-7290411512535297542?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/7290411512535297542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=7290411512535297542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/7290411512535297542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/7290411512535297542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-do-i-do-what-do-i-do.html' title='What do I do? What do I do?'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-4927868115221919786</id><published>2008-06-30T23:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T23:50:00.008-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And now a word from our sponsor, Sephora</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday, I sorted and cleaned out my makeup supplies. I probably threw away over $200 worth of expired products. Now, some of you may be scratching your heads, thinking "I've never even seen Minnie wear makeup. WTF?" A little known fact about me? I have a makeup problem. As in, I spend lots of money on makeup and never wear it. And I'm not talking about the cheap stuff either. I am talking about makeup purchased at Sephora. Or MAC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as a teenager and young adult, I actually did wear a lot of makeup. And I wasn't afraid to be a little crazy with it either. But, as I stopped going out to clubs and started working more hours in offices with business casual Fridays, I set aside my sparkley indigo blue nail polish, my crazy deep burgundy lip gloss (Seriously, that was probably a good thing. I wore that shit on purpose! Without irony!) and my silver eyeshadow*, and embraced the anti-makeup look. Because I can't ever be balanced, I can only do one extreme or the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for years, I didn't purchase anything. Obviously being really poor helped me avoid the makeup aisle, but when we started having a little extra income a couple years ago, I started purchasing expensive makeup and stockpiling it. (For the beauty revolution!) Now, a lot of ladies have this thing they do to themselves - its called the "I'll use/wear/do it, when I weigh XXX lbs/find the perfect mate/do that thing I'm always talking about" thing. Makeup was my "I will wear it when I am skinny" thing. I didn't buy skinny clothes. Hell, I didn't even keep my skinny clothes for future skinny times. I just purchased makeup - that most women would love to use daily - and hoarded it for my future skinny self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this is really unhealthy because:&lt;br /&gt;1) My skinny self? The one I was always working towards? That bitch was cranky and anorexic. (Yes, I was anorexic. See above - one extreme or the other.)&lt;br /&gt;2) Makeup expires. And then you have to throw it away. Before you ever got to use it. (Insert life lesson here about makeup being like life's precious moments. Thank you Jack Handy!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now, its the future! And my makeup has expired! And I am still fat! What do I do? I go to Sephora and spend undisclosed amounts of money on products. And then use them. Frequently. Ok, so I just purchased skin care products - I am working my way back up to actual makeup, but my skin seems very happy about this development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I still have my "balance" issue. Ten years ago I was anorexic and now I am obese. Obviously there is some work to be done here. But, I have more information and resources available to me now than before. I now know that I have a medical issue that makes it hard for me to lose weight, but easy for me to gain it. I am working on controlling that issue, but its going to be a long process. But, hopefully ten years from now, I will be able to say I am healthy. And that I look damn good in my $30 lip gloss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, all of this happy-feel-good bullshit is pointless if the economy continues to degrade, and in ten years we are all just trying to put food on our tables and shelter over our heads and fight the revolution and all that shit. At that point, I will probably be using the blood of my enemies for lip gloss, and not worrying about my fat ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I would like to note that I never wore all that stuff at once. Well, the silver eyeshadow and the blue nail polish obviously complemented each other, but I mostly focused on one stand-out thing at once. Didn't want to overwhelm my admirers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also - the most painful thing I threw out - a $25 mascara for "sensitive eyes", used twice, both times resulting in blood-shot eyes for approx. 48 hours after removing. Apparently they sell it to Lasik patients for use right after surgery. I would rather coat my eyelids with glass shards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-4927868115221919786?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/4927868115221919786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=4927868115221919786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4927868115221919786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4927868115221919786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/06/and-now-word-from-our-sponsor-sephora.html' title='And now a word from our sponsor, Sephora'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-3406865326346941625</id><published>2008-06-24T22:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T23:48:26.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Say "Hi" to Joe Pesci for me, George.</title><content type='html'>Growing up, my sister and I weren't allowed to watch a lot of TV. Everything was screened by our mom. She would sit with us and watch what we watched, and if she felt like things were getting inappropriate for us, she'd turn the channel. My mom didn't use the TV as a babysitter, and tried to shelter us from gratuitous sexual content and dysfunctional families with rude kids (I wasn't allowed to watch The Simpsons until I was like 14 or so, because Mom felt Bart was rude. I think she didn't want the rudeness to rub off on us, but this technique was completely ineffective. Because my mom is pretty rude. So, I learned more from her than I ever did from Bart.) But, despite this, we grew up watching George Carlin comedy specials. With my parents. And they would often explain things if we didn't understand the language. I wasn't allowed to watch R-rated movies, but I knew all the words you can't say on tv. Even though I probably couldn't use all of them in a sentence until I was in high school. I am sure my mom tsked a bit when we watched it, but I think she felt that the social commentary was more important than the language. Or maybe she just thought it was funny. My step-dad was the real George Carlin fan though. He loves George Carlin. He can quote entire bits. He even looks like George Carlin. (Seriously, he's been asked for autographs.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, George Carlin's work totally shaped many of my philosophical beliefs and helped me deal with my issues with religion. (Quick lesson on how to fuck with a sensitive and imaginative kid's mind - tell them about "the end times." Thank you, friendly church people! I'll be sending you my therapy bill.) My sense of humor is a direct result of a childhood with George Carlin and an adolescence with The Simpsons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am pretty sad about Carlin's death. I feel like I've lost a family member. The first thing I wanted to do when I heard the news was call my step-dad, who I haven't spoken to in over 5 years. But I couldn't, because he doesn't want a relationship with me*, and Carlin's death made that lost connection even more real to me. When I lamented to Dick about my sadness, he said, "George wouldn't want you to be sad." Which is true. He would also probably call my step-dad a c*cksucker, but that's beside the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think George's brother Patrick summed it up pretty well for me when he &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/SHOWBIZ/TV/06/24/lkl.carlin/"&gt;said&lt;/a&gt;, "He sure left a beautiful trail across the universe, and I'm going to miss him forever, forever, man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*My step-dad, who raised me since I was four years old, doesn't want a relationship with me because his girlfriend/domestic partner doesn't like me. And she doesn't understand why he would want to have a parental relationship with a girl that is not his biological daughter. I am sure George would have some choice words for her as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-3406865326346941625?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/3406865326346941625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=3406865326346941625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/3406865326346941625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/3406865326346941625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/06/say-hi-to-joe-pesci-for-me-george.html' title='Say &quot;Hi&quot; to Joe Pesci for me, George.'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-4754843462405699893</id><published>2008-06-16T23:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T00:31:27.476-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That's the way it is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Some of my earliest memories are of my family watching the nightly news together. I loved Dan Rather. Seriously. I would pretend to be him, and would often "report live" from the backseat of our car on family vacations. My sister H did not find this amusing at all. But, can you blame her? I was always interviewing her, and I asked the hard questions, yes I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my love of the nightly news spurred my love for newspapers, magazines, and now blogs (and all of the internets!). I work for the home-town newspaper I grew up reading, and although my work is pretty fluffy and most of my colleagues don't consider me a real journalist, I am very proud of my work, who I work with and what journalism means. My family is big into the whole "public service" thing and I consider journalism to to be one of the important forms of public service. In many ways, my silly newsroom job is a dream job for me. Even though the pay is shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we've established that I am a newsjunkie. This means I can remember some of Rather's best lines, especially in reference to elections. My fav - "He swept through the South like a tornado through a trailer park."  Ahh. That shit would get you fired today. And I once saw Ted Koppel moderate a panel at a literary event, and afterwards I pulled his namecard (the one that sat on the table in front of him, telling everyone that he was Ted Koppel - which was completely unnecessary. I mean, he's Ted Koppel, people!) out of the trash and kept it for years. I may still have it, in fact. I am pretty sure he touched it at some point. Also - important to note - he is much more attractive in real life. Not that he is a real looker or anything, but apparently the camera is not friendly to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my love of news - and journalists - and nightly news anchors  - means I take these people pretty seriously when they are on TV. So, when Tom Brokaw got choked up while talking about the untimely death of Tim Russert, I lost it. And I wasn't particularly a big fan of Russert. His show, Meet the Press, totally stressed me out. (I am also stressed out by American Idol and Jeopardy. Please don't judge me.) But, there is something about watching journalists get teary that breaks my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do want to note that I don't watch the nightly news anymore. Haven't in years. I don't have a problem with any of the anchors, but I find the product to be very, very fluffy. And entertainment driven. I read my paper and lots of other papers online, listen to NPR and occasionally watch the NewsHour with Jim Lehrer on PBS. And I am always thrilled when I stumble across Sunday Morning. I tend to forget that its not just a wonderful memory from my childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also - &lt;a href="http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2008/06/15/mccain-cancels-fundraiser-over-oilmans-rape-comments/"&gt;wow&lt;/a&gt;. Favorite line: "..the campaign, when it initially was contacted by the Post and ABC News, questioned why the story was newsworthy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And - I am fully aware of Dan Rather's craziness. When I was a teenager, I read one of his autobiographies. He's like the crazy uncle that always has great stories, even if they are mostly made up or exaggerated for his benefit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always love Peter Jennings though. (He was a high school drop out - like me!) And I will never read a biography about him so that his image may remain eternally untarnished in my head. Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-4754843462405699893?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/4754843462405699893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=4754843462405699893' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4754843462405699893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4754843462405699893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/06/thats-way-it-is.html' title='That&apos;s the way it is'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-4382201288624557413</id><published>2008-06-14T23:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T01:40:22.834-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember that time? When we were in that uterus?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hi blog. I've missed you. Have you missed me? No? Oh. Well. Um. Are you mad at me or something? I know, I know. 138 days IS a long time. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I've been thinking about you a lot. Facebook status updates are no way to keep my friends aware of all the wonderful, witty things in my head. Only a blog can truly do that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've been thinking about the last 138 days and what prevented me from sitting my ass down and typing out a few thoughts. And honestly, a lot of shit has happened. I've tried to summarize in a haiku:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;job eating my soul,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;uterus stole my savings,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;and I had the flu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Are you afraid of uteruses (uteri?) or ovaries? Or menstruation? If so, you may want to skip a couple paragraphs, but before you do, I'd like to tell you that you are a dumbass. Seriously, you spent the first nine (more or less) months of your existence hanging out in a uterus. And guess what? You really fucking liked it! It was nice and cozy, perfect temperature and you basically hung out, floating and swishing around. And then, when you left, you were really pissed and cried like a baby bitch. So friends, don't be afraid of the uterus. (When I wrote this, I realized that I've always tried to plan vacations at locations that were nice, the perfect temperature and near water for floating. I don't know what that says about me.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway - uterus talk starts now:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, in January, I started birth control pills after being off them for six months. And everything was going great. Until my period started. And kept going. And going. For 35 days. I learned a couple things in this 35 day time-span:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;1) Apparently if you've been off the pill for a while and go back, it can make you a raving lunatic, especially if you are taking a certain type of low-dose pill. You may consider quiting your job and driving off a bridge. Or just driving to the airport, to take a plane to India, because you read about a guru in India that can help crazy people. Or you may consider committing yourself to the psych ward. You may go to your general care practitioner and say, "Hey doc. Something is wrong, I feel crazy. My OB/GYN just started me new birth control, but other than that, nothing's changed." And your doc may say, "Hey, let's up your anti-depressant dosage." And you may ignore her because you don't think that's the answer. And then one day, you may stumble across a random blog post that has a random comment about a certain new birth control pill making people crazy. And then you'll do some research and feel a little better about the whole thing. (It gets better with time.) Also, being a lunatic makes it really hard to go to work and school. Who knew?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;2) When you have Hemophobia (fear of blood, specifically your own blood) having a period for 35 days is really fucking stressful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;3) When you have a 35 day period, you only have a few medical options for dealing with it. You can try messing with your birth control pills and seeing if changing them or temporarily stopping them makes a difference. But it is a crap shoot. Cause everyone reacts differently. Or you can have a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dilation_and_curettage"&gt;D&amp;amp;C&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Which is what my ob/gyn suggested. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;4) A D&amp;amp;C is a really expensive procedure. Which they don't tell you until you have your pre-op the day before.  And, the particular "surgery center" I went to wanted the cash up front. $1000. That didn't include the fee for the surgeon, the lab work, or the anesthesia guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;5) D&amp;amp;Cs are also used to remove miscarried fetuses. I hope that I never have to go through one in those circumstances, because waiting in an ob/gyn waiting room filled with a million pregnant women, and a bunch of women with tiny babies, while the office people take two freaking hours to get your paperwork ready to do your pre-op appointment, which you thought was only going to take 30 minutes, really fucking sucks without the whole "dead fetus" thing. I am planning on telling the Ob/gyn that they need a separate waiting room for patients waiting for D&amp;amp;C pre-op appointments. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, in March, I paid $1000, had my uterus reset and went home. And missed three days of work. Its been three months since I had it and everything seems to be good. They also stuck a camera up there, so I got to see snapshots of my uterus. Kind of cool. Also, I can officially say that I have had a camera in two of my orifices. One more to go! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And, of course, the surgery center fucked up my insurance claim, and ended up issuing me a refund for $400, which I have to basically just send to the surgeon. And then I have to send another $400 to the anesthesia doc. Fun times. The insurance provided by my workplace is the worst insurance I've ever had. On my old insurance, I had major abdominal surgery and stayed in the hospital for two nights. It cost $250 for the hospital and $150 for the surgeon. I was at the "surgery center" for three hours and it cost $1400.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My lady parts are so expensive to maintain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;OK. Uterus talk over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Other things that happened:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;January - Had sinus infection, missed two days of work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;February - Took trip to the Keys to visit my mom, sis, Grandma and Grandpa. Fun, except Grandpa had flu. Returned home, and then came down with the flu, and missed two and a half days of work. Also, withdrew from classes because flu+defective uterus+crazy hormones does not equal good student. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;March - restarted uterus, missed three days of work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;April - Got another sinus infection, which found its way to my lungs and aggravated my asthma. My nightstand became a pharmacy of nasal spray, inhalors, three different types of mucinex, two types of antihistamines and advil. Oh, and a bunch of tissues. Missed another two and a half days of days of work. And then Dick got sick. Oi vey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;May - I started ADD medicine. And helped sister move. Dick worked out of town a lot.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;June - Dick worked out of town some more. I stayed up late a lot and watched a lot of bad Tv. And lamented how much paid time off I had spent on sick days. Worried about work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So. Blog. And blog friends. I have been a wee bit busy. But, inside my head, I have a billion wonderful, witty things to say, I promise. I just need to type them out. Things I plan on discussing:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. My review of the sex and the city movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Dick's new crafty hobbies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. The economy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;4. People I hate. Or strongly dislike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;5. Investment options for people who work for companies that cancel 401k matching. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I know you are all very impressed. Ok. I am going to bed because I have some crafty wedding gift things I have to do tomorrow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ohh! Topic #6: Crafty wedding gifts that don't suck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;You are so glad I am back, aren't you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-4382201288624557413?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/4382201288624557413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=4382201288624557413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4382201288624557413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4382201288624557413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/06/remember-that-time-when-we-were-in-that.html' title='Remember that time? When we were in that uterus?'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-3826858949761644126</id><published>2008-01-29T17:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T18:05:56.988-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Semester</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Well, a lesson to all ye students out there. Read your catalog carefully. I signed up for Precalculas Algebra, thinking that somewhere I had read that I needed it as a pre-requisite for another class. I started the class and felt completely overwhelmed. I really, really don't like graphing. I tried to drop with a refund, but was a day late and denied an extension. I figured I was screwed. Well, today, while freaking out about my first Precal test that was supposed to be tonight, I looked at my materials. I found out - 1) I don't actually need precal, just a math credit, 2) I could withdrawal and it would not effect my GPA. Now, I would still end up paying for the class, but I wouldn't have to sit through 16 weeks of class I didn't need. So, I withdrew and signed up for statistics. I have to take another statistics class when I get to the University level, so I figured it would be a good basis for that class. So! No freaking out about a scary math class! Hooray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Speaking of college, one of my favorite bloggers, the South African &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.tertia.org/so_close/"&gt;Tertia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, has called upon the masses to help friends of hers, Masande and Nontobeko, follow their educational dreams. I donated some money, in honor of my grandfather, who put himself through college while working full time and raising three kids. Sure, my grandma did a lot of the heavy lifting, but he made the grades and became a chemical engineer, which happens to be what Masande wants to be. If you've got a little extra cash, consider donating. Sometimes a little makes a big difference. (I couldn't believe that Masande's college registration fee was $450. Mine was $15. Now mine is for community college, but still! That's crazy. And he has to pay that fee before he can apply for financial aid.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;        My grandparents come from generations and generations of really thrifty people, and somehow I've managed to screw that up with my generation. (Actually, it may be my mom who screwed it up first.) Anyway, I love their stories of ingenuity in the face of poverty. One of my favorites: At some point when my grandfather was in school and my grandma was at home with the kids, it became really popular to have either fancy wallpaper put in your house with a beautiful tropical vista, or if you were really wealthy, have someone come in and paint a mural of such a scene. My grandmother wanted one in her living room, but couldn't afford either option. She found a small paint-by-numbers scene that she liked, and my grandfather borrowed a projector from a friend. With pencils, they traced the picture onto the wall together, basically creating a huge paint-by-numbers. They found some paints that matched the colors they wanted, and then, when the kids were down for a nap, she would paint small sections of it. My grandmother is actually quite artistic (I think she could have probably painted a mural without the whole paint-by-numbers thing, if she'd had a little more confidence in herself. But poverty doesn't necessarily afford confidence, you don't want to waste paint, afterall) and in no time, she had her dream mural. And it apparently became the talk of the neighborhood. I love the idea of that - that art and beauty are worth splurging on, even if you have to fake it. I think that's a little something that many modern Americans are missing from their lives. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-3826858949761644126?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/3826858949761644126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=3826858949761644126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/3826858949761644126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/3826858949761644126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/01/spring-semester.html' title='Spring Semester'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-1567420923172531730</id><published>2008-01-09T19:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T20:21:49.911-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Booky Talk'/><title type='text'>Booky Talk - "Birth"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dick and I own hundreds of books. Dick tends to read non-fiction, including philosophy books, for fun. (Philosophy does not equal fun for me.) I like a good mix and try to alternate when reading, between the two. I started this year off with Tina Cassidy's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.amazon.com/Birth-Surprising-History-How-Born/dp/0802143245/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1199925229&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Birth: The Surprising History of How We Are Born&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. A little known fact about me is that I have, on many occasions, secretly courted the idea of becoming a midwife. I believe that women's health issues go hand in hand with sexual equality, and are incredibly important. Because of my interest in this type of feminism and my own health issues, I have read tons about women's health, from infertility to abortion, to nutrition, menopause and breastfeeding. So, I was really, really excited about this book. I actually read the entire thing in one night. Here are my thoughts:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wish the author would have included more about the political causes and effects of some of the changes birthing procedures. She detailed how in the late 1800s/early 1900s, men essentially began pushing their way into the "birthing room," which had traditionally been safely overseen by women and midwives. And that it is really within the last ninety years or so that hospital births have become standard. (If you think about how long we've been having babies, that is a really short time.) This time period also corresponds with the strengthening of the anti-abortion movement among states. This makes me believe that there may some additional social reasons beyond physicians seeing obstetrics as a financial opportunity. Perhaps that is a whole other book, though!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;She did focus heavily on detailed procedure descriptions, which, were... gross. And some birthing horror stories. (One, in particular, involving a disgusting overcrowded hospital and a baby essentially eaten by rats, was really horrifying.) And while the shock factor was there, I was often left wondering about the hearts of these poor women who endured these things, and often I felt the author did not share my personal interest in them, but saw them mostly as scientific evidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maybe I am just a big softy though. Despite being slightly less than I expected, the book was fascinating and horrifying. It made me thankful and somewhat suspicious of modern medicine. I wouldn't suggest that anyone read it while pregnant, or within a year of even considering pregnancy. Seriously. Unless you have big birthing hips. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-1567420923172531730?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/1567420923172531730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=1567420923172531730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/1567420923172531730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/1567420923172531730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/01/booky-talk-birth.html' title='Booky Talk - &quot;Birth&quot;'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-8959547806691947655</id><published>2008-01-08T21:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T20:22:11.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy, eh, New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yeah, so I am a little behind the times here. But I am a busy woman, what do you expect? This semester I have decided to only take two classes: Precalculas algebra and American Government. Taking two classes instead of three is going to throw off my graduation schedule, but I don't think I can do it again right now. Maybe in the summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I know its late, but I wanted to do this end o' the year meme from one of my favorite bloggers. Cause I wanted to be all retrospective and shit. And, also, I thought it would be good to look at it next year to see how I've grown and shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Took three classes while working full time &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    No, I didn't. And I don't know about 2008 yet. My birthday is Feb. 9, which I normally choose to make my resolutions. It happens to be close to the Chinese New Year, which is helpful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;3. Did anyone close to you give birth? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Umm.... I don't think so. No one close to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;4. Did anyone close to you die? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Yes, my grandma. And Dick's dad. Who I wasn't close to, but knocked me for a loop anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;5. What countries did you visit? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I limited my travels to the United States of America. Unless you count Alabama as another country.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Financial security. A clean house. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Feb. 10 - Had my most awesomest birthday party yet - Pins and PJs. I realized what great, funny friends I have. The best present ever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Three As in three classes in one semester.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;9. What was your biggest failure? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Gaining all the weight back (and more) that I lost in the H magazine challenge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;10. Did you suffer illness or injury? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Well, I always am - I have multiple chronic conditions that suck. So yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;11. What was the best thing you bought? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I really love my new laptop, even though it is not a coveted Apple. One day, my pretty, you shall be mine. And all the drugs that keep me sane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;12. Whose behavior merited celebration? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Dick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Oh Britney. Wait, I don't know her. Hmmm... someone I know? The Wall (management in my office). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;14. Where did most of your money go? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Eating out, beer and sandwiches at E-street, cigarettes and coffee for Dick. Ice cream. Oh! And tuition and books. Car payments. God, it sucks being an adult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;   Baking. And ice cream. And my awesome friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;16. What song will always remind you of 2007? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I am not musically inclined, people! I listen to what people tell me to. I don't know! Stop pressuring me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;17. Compared to this time last year, are you:  a) happier or sadder?  b) thinner or fatter?  c) richer or poorer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Happier, fatter and slightly (oh so slightly) richer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;18. What do you wish you’d done more of? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Exercised, gone out on more dates with Dick, seen more movies, seen my grandma one last time. Traveled more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;19. What do you wish you’d done less of? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Eating. Especially the Great Ice Cream Debacle of Summer 2007. (I think I ate ice cream every day for like three months or something. It was so refreshing! And now I am really fat!) Sitting on my ass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;20. How did you spend Christmas? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Went to Epcot the weekend before, spent Christmas Eve with friends and my sister, Christmas Day at work, and with Mom and family in evening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;21. Did you fall in love in 2007? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Yes, over and over again. Most of the time with Dick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;22. What was your favorite TV program? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I liked Grey's Anatomy, even though it pissed me off quite frequently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I think all my current nemesises are oldies but goodies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;24. What was the best book you read? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I read a lot of books, mostly non-fiction. But, in the fiction realm, I read &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.amazon.com/Welcome-Eudora-Novel-Mimi-Thebo/dp/0345492196/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1199849261&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Welcome to Eudora&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, which was a lovely book that I didn't want to end. I love good storytelling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;25. What was your greatest musical discovery?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Again with the music! I don't know! Whatever was on the radio! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;26. What did you want and get? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I got a Cuisinart food processor that I've wanted since the beginning of time, or "1992," as I call it. And a more-attentive husband.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;27. What did you want and not get? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    A house, a puppy and a raise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;28. What was your favorite film of this year? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I liked "Knocked Up," but it was really the only movie I saw this year. Oh, and the James Bond movie... was that this year? Eh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;   Bowled in my pajamas with 24 of my closest friends - I turned 27.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    To have kept the weight off, and lost more.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Sometime mid-year, I decided that I was no longer dressing business casual for work, since they weren't giving me (or anyone else) a raise, so I started wearing jeans everyday. So, jeans and t-shirts with ballet flats or converses would be my personal work style. And pajamas for everything else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;32. What kept you sane?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    E-Street Fridays. Wearing my pajamas. Baking. Snuggling with Louie and/or Dick.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Daniel Craig. Yum. Oh, did you mean in an admirable kind of way? Hmm... Can't think of any. Kind of sad when you think about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;34. What political issue stirred you the most?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Abortion rights. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;35. Who did you miss? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    My grandpa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;36. Who was the best new person you met? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    Stef! Junebug! Anna! (And Erin! even though she was technically introduced to 2006.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    E-Street two-for-one Happy Hour is 4-7 p.m. daily. I don't know if this is a life lesson, but I am incredibly lucky to have the friends and husband that I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;    I don't know the words to any songs! Unless they are Sublime songs from like 15 years ago. Do they count? "Are you a bad fish too?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, I think I will have more time for writing this semester, with my lighter work load. I hope to write a little something about every book I read because I realized that I don't really keep track of that, and I'd like to do that for my own sick purposes. (Yeah, you may be smart, but I read like 14.5 books last year, mister!) I hope to start that this week, with the books I read over the New Year holiday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-8959547806691947655?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/8959547806691947655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=8959547806691947655' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8959547806691947655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8959547806691947655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-eh-new-year.html' title='Happy, eh, New Year'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-6576844711524756525</id><published>2007-12-18T22:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T22:58:40.147-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Study'/><title type='text'>Countdown</title><content type='html'>So, after 16 hardcore weeks, I am done with school. Wait... let me wallow in the glory of the moment.... Yes, I am done with this semester. And all the hard work has paid off. I got three As. Yay for As. With the exception of one crazy teacher, I had good instructors who were flexible and nice. I still need to work on my procrastination problem though. And my organization. I am really organized at work, but in my personal life, I am a freaking mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in twenty short days, I start all over again. This semester I have Precal, American Federal Government and Speech. Speech is required by my college, which pisses me off. Once again I specifically picked teachers that do not do group projects. I hate group projects. And a group project involving a speech? I can think of nothing worse. Anyway, in addition to all those classes, I am taking a four-week baking class. Hooray for baking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am going to try my best to enjoy my twenty-non-school days. Luckily I will only be at work for ten of them. Although, work is getting interesting. I anticipate some major management changes in the next three months. I told someone today that I thought I would stay on for a while just to see what happens. I'll probably be able to write a book about this one day. I have some Christmas festivities planned, a trip to Epcot, some drinking, some visiting with family, some baking, some cleaning and some sleeping. Note to self: need new pajamas. Also, I will be developing some sort of bloggy plan for posting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-6576844711524756525?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/6576844711524756525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=6576844711524756525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/6576844711524756525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/6576844711524756525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/12/countdown.html' title='Countdown'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-175344789090429982</id><published>2007-10-11T03:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T04:18:42.257-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fam-dam-ily'/><title type='text'>The Circle is Unbroken</title><content type='html'>One of the things that has always connected Dick and I is are crazy ass families. When I was three years old, my mom divorced my biological father and I haven't had any contact with him since I was four. When I was four my mom started dating W, who later became my step father when I was seven. They were married until I was 16, when they divorced and my mom proceeded to lose her mind... that is a whole other story. Anyway, I no longer have a relationship with W, as he started dating a woman who didn't particularly like me and didn't understand how he could continue to parent a child that wasn't his. Dick's mom and biological father divorced when he was four, and with the exception of one visit when he was eighteen, he has not had any contact with his bio dad since he was eight. He also had a step dad, and they still maintain a decent relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something about being "fatherless" that most people can't understand. Even if you have a  step father, you always know that you were essentially rejected or abandoned by a parent. As a child, I was really drawn to stories about adoption, because that was the closest I could find to my situation. So, it is only natural that Dick and I felt a certain kinship with each other because of our family situations. We understand being "fatherless."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday evening we found out that Dick's biological father passed away from lung cancer last weekend. The way we found out was the kind of convoluted, bizarre circumstances you would expect from such a complicated situation, so I won't go into it. It has hit both of us in unexpected ways. In my case, I realized that this could easily be my future - that I could find that my situation with my bio father resolved by death alone. And this really freaks me out. But, I am not really sure what to do about it. So, I am having trouble sleeping (4 a.m. post may have given me away there) and I don't really want to go to work tomorrow. But, I have nothing better to do. Wait, scratch that. Meaghan is in town and she is going to the Alligator farm tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know when the funeral is and I don't know if I will go. I tend to be way overly emotional at weddings and funerals and we've been warned that if we go, we will probably be mobbed by family members (Dick's dad had like eight brothers and sisters. Good gawd.) and I don't know if I can handle my first meeting with them being a funeral. Perhaps this would be a good time to ask my doctor for a xan@x prescription. With refills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-175344789090429982?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/175344789090429982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=175344789090429982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/175344789090429982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/175344789090429982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/10/circle-is-unbroken.html' title='The Circle is Unbroken'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-8243068870490582421</id><published>2007-10-04T20:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T21:33:46.638-04:00</updated><title type='text'>36 Days of Fun, I tell you!</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged in thirty-six days. It's not because I don't love you blog. Here are 36 things about the last 36 days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;School is hard. Well, not technically. But it is time-consuming as hell. Five days at work + four days at school = stupid idea. But I am surviving.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My human growth and development teacher is a total flake. But amusing, which helps me stay awake at 8 a.m. on Tuesday and Thursday mornings.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;That's right. I go to school before work.  Once again - stupid idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My humanities teacher is a twaffle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dick got a new job.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dick's new job is like the google of his industry. Not because of the money-making, but because they offer all these free goodies in the breakroom. Free snacks, free gourmet coffee, free sodas. They've given him a laptop and a PDA. He is really happy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dick went on his Very First Business Trip. To Atlanta. For a week.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was pretty lonely that week. JennBert, I don't know how ya'll do it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On many occasions over the past 36 days I have wished that I put Britney Spears in the Ghoul Pool at work (pick five celebrities that you predict will kick the bucket in 2007.) I can see her pulling an Anna Nicole Smith any day now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got an A on my first accounting test!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When Dick was away, my friends were really great about making sure I wasn't dying of loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We've been going to happy hour at a certain local bar every Friday lately. Two for one beers, bitches!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;But, work is a time-and-soul-consuming place and often we miss the actual happy hour, but are willing to pay full price for beer because we are so freaking happy that work is over for the  week.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have been very disappointed with Grey's Anatomy this season. (Well, at least the first episode.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't have a TV, so I've been watching TV on the Internets or at various friends' houses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People are shocked as hell when I tell them I don't have a TV. They look at me like they are fully expecting my next words to be, "I am releasing all my worldly possessions, so when the mothership comes, I will be ready."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And Private Practice? WTF? I could write a better show. Seriously, call me ABC!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had a really bad cold for a week. It sucked ass.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I chickened out and didn't get a flu shot when they were offering them at work yesterday. I fear needles.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I had the cold, I missed a Monday at work, and then worked my ass off to get all my work done on Tuesday so I could meet my deadlines, and then it turned out that a big portion of my work had already been done by another person. Except no one told me. So, that was nice. Doing a bunch of work for no reason. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had a brief moment of panic at work today when I found out that some managers were trying to get my manager to agree to have me take on more work. I actually tried to call Dick to get permission to quit if it happened. But, my manager stood his ground, and I shall remain just slightly overworked and underpaid.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We've had a lot of cake at work lately. We have cake everytime someone leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My sister called me and asked me for advice about something, and then... she actually followed the advice I gave her. I don't know if I should be happy or scared.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My friend Erin and I are going to be white trash debutantes for Halloween.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My friend Meaghan is coming to town next week and I am really excited about seeing her.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Robert is coming to town in a couple weeks too. I am going to make some cupcakes for his arrival. Because every celebration deserves cupcakes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I made some Mayan Chocolate Cupcakes for a party last week and they were a big hit.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Over the past 36 days I have given a lot of thought to the idea of opening my own bakery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I really hate working for other people. Specifically old, white, rich men.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have no idea where I am really headed at this point.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My job is like an abusive boyfriend. I can't quit you, job.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I hate the republic@n presidential candidate Fred Th0mps0n. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I think NPR is doing a fantastic job of covering all the presidential candidates.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Because so many people have left at work, I now have three cubicles all for me. But I am only using two of them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;By Wednesday of next week, Dick and I will have paid off all of our consumer debt.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've missed you blog!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Ok. I need to go to bed now. Yes, it is only 9:30 p.m. But, I had a test at 8 a.m. this morning, and I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to study. And my brain has reached maximum capacity for the day.  I'll try to be a better blogger, I swear. Pinky promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-8243068870490582421?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/8243068870490582421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=8243068870490582421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8243068870490582421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8243068870490582421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/10/36-days-of-fun-i-tell-you.html' title='36 Days of Fun, I tell you!'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-4725469059898448683</id><published>2007-08-29T21:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T21:47:14.714-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School Supplies Part Two</title><content type='html'>Ahh...pencils.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robert brought up pencils. And I have to say, I hate non-wood pencils. You know, the rubbery-want-to-be-woody-but-aren't kind? They suck ass. My favorite pencils used to be Eckerd Brand No. 2 pencils. They were real wood, sharpened to a good point and didn't splinter or break. But shortly before they went out of business, they switched to the fake-wood crap. (I always secretly thought that is why they went out of business. Bad call, Eckerds! Ok, ok, I know they were bought out by CVS. But I think the decline in pencil quality was somehow related). Since the demise of the Eckerd Brand No. 2 pencils, I have been unable to find a satisfactory replacement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Dick is all about mechanical pencils. But they annoy me. I really don't mind the inconvience of sharpening a pencil. And I really like manual pencil sharpeners too, but that is beside the point. Hehe. Point. Get it?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad I have friends that can appreciate the value of a good wooden pencil. Just the other day, my friend Heather confessed that as a child she collected pencils with fun designs on them. But she never used them. She thinks they are sitting in a closet in her parents' house and I am trying to convince her to find them, because I am thinking there are probably some really good, old school wooden pencils in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you know if we hit the motherload.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-4725469059898448683?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/4725469059898448683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=4725469059898448683' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4725469059898448683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/4725469059898448683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/08/school-supplies-part-two.html' title='School Supplies Part Two'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-9132367707626341927</id><published>2007-08-27T20:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T21:19:31.883-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Study'/><title type='text'>My Soul for a Sharpie®</title><content type='html'>When I was a kid, two weeks before school started, my mom would give my sister and I our budget for school supplies. We would then sit down with the Sunday circulars and determine which stores had the best buys and make our lists, so that we could get the most supplies for our dollars. I love school (and office) supplies. Pens and paper, post-its, markers and stickers. I attribute this to spending so much free time in my mom's classroom and my love of writing. So, I always loved back-to-school time. And I always started the new year confident that I was going to be organized. Typically, that lasted about two weeks. I had good intentions though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I have my first class of the semester. So, I decided to get my crap together and realized, much to my dismay, that I did not have an empty binder. I am not quite sure how I managed to get this close to school and not have enough supplies. And somehow, I managed to forget about this while I browsed the school supply section at Costco yesterday. I was rather preoccupied with a big set of Sharpies. It included every color, in both bold and fine, and 2 metallic ones and five retractable ones. Oh, how I lust for those Sharpies. Binders are so not sexy compared to those Sharpies. So, now it is 9 p.m. the night before my 8 a.m. Human Growth and Development class,  and I find myself both binder and sharpie-less. And I am in my pajamas. And I am apparently all grown up, because I can't manage to find away to care enough to get dressed and go to Walgreens and buy one binder. Maybe Dick will do it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my school schedule, for those who are following along at home:&lt;br /&gt;Tuesdays and Thursdays: 8-9:15 a.m. Human Growth and Development&lt;br /&gt;Wednesdays: 6-10 p.m. Financial Accounting&lt;br /&gt;Saturdays: 1-4 p.m. Humanities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure what possessed me into taking a class in the mornings before work, but I am giving it a try. I need to take 3 classes a semester if I want to make my A.A. graduation goal, which is May 2009. Pray for me, people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-9132367707626341927?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/9132367707626341927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=9132367707626341927' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/9132367707626341927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/9132367707626341927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-soul-for-sharpie.html' title='My Soul for a Sharpie®'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-8805240714194628315</id><published>2007-08-20T21:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T21:40:08.410-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, my name is Minnie and...</title><content type='html'>I am addicted to blogs. I check almost 40 blogs daily. Which is time-consuming. And not necessarily the best use of my time. And school is starting next week, so I am going to have to cut my internet time significantly. So, I set up my Google Reader. AND IT ROCKS MY WORLD. It doesn't take much, people. It really doesn't. So, I took a couple minutes to set it up yesterday, and today my blog reading took a fraction of the time. Like 15 minutes. I don't know what to do with myself. (Obviously, I need to find more blogs!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an awesome weekend. We had PMG's birthday celebration: dinner with some of my favorite people, at our fav pizza place, and drinks at our town's Best Bar for Drunks. (Seriously... a generous crown royal and coke was $5.50. That is an awesome deal. I need to drink there more often.) And I made cupcakes. They were yellow cake with dark chocolate icing. Very tasty, but rich. I have really enjoyed baking lately and I am hoping to perfect some of my recipes and then have a "Cupcake Tasting" party. Like a wine tasting, only better. Anyway, I felt like the dark chocolate icing overpowered the plain yellow cake, and I am thinking of pairing it with a coffee cupcake. I am also working on my super-secret special cupcake idea. Which I am not quite ready to reveal to the internet, although my friends outside of the computer have heard all about it. I really wish I had a better kitchen.  And my own bakery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-8805240714194628315?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/8805240714194628315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=8805240714194628315' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8805240714194628315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8805240714194628315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/08/hello-my-name-is-minnie-and.html' title='Hello, my name is Minnie and...'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-8479040932521080758</id><published>2007-08-15T18:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T19:17:48.847-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Furry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I love TV'/><title type='text'>Tale of Two Kitties</title><content type='html'>Who writes the cheesiest post titles ever? Me, that's who!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on. We have two cats. My favorite is Maggie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RsOHrULAdII/AAAAAAAAAf4/gR4vxTNCJy4/s1600-h/Maggie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RsOHrULAdII/AAAAAAAAAf4/gR4vxTNCJy4/s320/Maggie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099068381332534402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maggie - Cutest Cat Ever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found her when she was a wee little thing, and I was very sick at the time, and she kept me company while I was home, hopped up on prescription cough syrup and contemplating death. (Having bronchitis for two straight months will do that to you.) She was initially an inside cat, because I am afraid of all the bad things that happen to outside cat. She never really escaped, except once when our house was broken into, which sucked. We found her terrified, under the house, so we figured she was a bit of a wuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple years later, we got Louie (the dog), and they did not get along. He wanted to play, she didn't. And she started looking longingly out the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then another cat showed up. And we started feeding him, and I named him Christopher. (One of my all-time favorite names, but Dick has forbidden me from naming any future children Christopher, so I used it on the cat.) He stayed outside (unless it was really cold) and Maggie stayed inside. We did this because Christopher is overwhelming love-sucking machine. He drove me crazy, with constant meowing and talking and rubbing. He would drive the dog crazy too. And Christopher was a crazy-killing-machine. He would kill rats and squirrels and birds and lizards and leave them on the porch. One day, in particular, when I came home, he was sitting on the porch eating (literally eating) a dead squirrel. Like it was the tastiest thing ever. And! And, he also killed two bats. I have no idea how he did that. Anyway, we admired his killing skills and didn't want to take him out of his killing fields. And did I mention he drives me crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RsOHCELAdHI/AAAAAAAAAfw/u6QMGgiwFQY/s1600-h/IMG_0752.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RsOHCELAdHI/AAAAAAAAAfw/u6QMGgiwFQY/s320/IMG_0752.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099067672662930546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Christopher - Annoying the hell out of Louie. Poor dog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Maggie would watch, all sad-eyed, from the living room window. So, one day, we decided to let her out to hang out with Christopher for a couple of hours. And then she was going outside during the day, but coming in at night. And now, she is out all the time. Maybe once every two weeks, she'll decide she needs to be in for the night. But the moment you open the front door in the morning, she is bounding outside. (She really does bound.) This has done wonders for her self-esteem. She does not let Louie fuck with her anymore, and she and Christopher have been known to tag-team a wandering neighborhood cat. (They line up in formation, I swear, and you can almost hear the soundtrack to West Side Story.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christopher has become very lazy though. Seriously, he'll let a squirrel run through the yard right next to him. It's almost embarrassing. And we figured that Maggie just doesn't have the killing ability, since she was an inside cat for so long. But... A couple days ago, Christopher was hanging inside with us for a little while (So. Annoying. With the meowing.) And we let him out and then a couple minutes later, Dick went outside and there was a dead rat on the stoop. Like freshly dead. Dick picked it up to put it in the trash (using some newspaper. It has so many uses!) and it was still warm. Dick thinks Christopher did it right after we let him out. I don't think there was enough time. I think Maggie did it. Has Christopher passed the torch to Maggie? Has the student become the master? Can I think of anymore clichés?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RsOHBULAdGI/AAAAAAAAAfo/nzG7eCpf3J4/s1600-h/IMG_0950.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RsOHBULAdGI/AAAAAAAAAfo/nzG7eCpf3J4/s320/IMG_0950.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099067659778028642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maggie - Looking over the killing fields&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may never know. But, speaking of the truth being out there and whatnot - there is going to be another &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0443701/"&gt;X-Files Movie&lt;/a&gt;. Hooray!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-8479040932521080758?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/8479040932521080758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=8479040932521080758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8479040932521080758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/8479040932521080758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/08/tale-of-two-kitties.html' title='Tale of Two Kitties'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RsOHrULAdII/AAAAAAAAAf4/gR4vxTNCJy4/s72-c/Maggie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-7801232266697885298</id><published>2007-08-10T22:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T23:15:13.476-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yummy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Workplace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Week in Review'/><title type='text'>Week in Review, Ghetto Style, Bitches.</title><content type='html'>Didn't mean to go this long without posting. This week has been crazy. It included the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work drama (More layoffs. More people jumping ship. Less fun.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Exciting homemade natural hair treatment for luxurious locks (Didn't really work. When will I learn? I don't know why I always have to try bizarre homemade natural treatments. I'm a masochist.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cupcake research. (I am developing a super-exciting new cupcake. This is hard work, my friends.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Obsessive reading of &lt;a href="http://truemomconfessions.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://trueofficeconfessions.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://truebrideconfessions.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; and a little bit of &lt;a href="http://truedadconfessions.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. (Are men really that preoccupied with sex? Seriously? Dudes, you need some hobbies. May I suggest doing laundry?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A life changing therapy session. (My therapist told me that I didn't have to feel guilty about not working out this month, and that it was ok if I wasn't actively pursuing weight loss right now, and that I could wait until my new school schedule started to get back into my weight-fighting-gym-going groove. It seemed totally absurd. What? Me, not worry or obsess about what I am or am not doing about my fat ass? CRAZY! But I am trying it.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Planning PMG's birthday celebrations for next weekend. (There will be pizza! And beer! And dancing! And maybe super-exciting cupcakes! And beer!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Talks about Dick changing jobs. (More on this later.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;And now, I need to go to sleep, but I stupidly drank a diet dr. Pepper with dinner and I am like a four year old when it comes to caffeine. I may be up until 3 a.m. or something. Oh well, I've got cupcakes to think about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-7801232266697885298?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/7801232266697885298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=7801232266697885298' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/7801232266697885298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/7801232266697885298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/08/week-in-review-ghetto-style-bitches.html' title='Week in Review, Ghetto Style, Bitches.'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-1401373488704509369</id><published>2007-08-01T18:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T18:39:41.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday Roudup</title><content type='html'>Two Reasons I Love My Job:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The quick conference conversation I had today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;PMG (5:11 PM  8/1/07) &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got a great idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minnie (5:11 PM  8/1/07) &gt;&lt;br /&gt;what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PMG (5:11 PM  8/1/07) &gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should send someone a Quick Conference that says something like, "I hate myself because of you, and it makes me want to slit my wrists."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PMG (5:12 PM  8/1/07) &gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we should say, "Oh, sorry, that wasn't meant for you."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. This &lt;a href="http://www.imcooked.com/view_video.php?viewkey=5ff68e3e25b9114205d4"&gt;video&lt;/a&gt; I found today while using company time for personal use.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that is Christopher Walken cooking a chicken. It is the most absurd, wonderful thing I have seen in forever. Check out &lt;a href="http://www.imcooked.com"&gt;Im Cooked&lt;/a&gt; for more cooking fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Things I Love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Robert's pictures of Boston. So &lt;a href="http://loremipsum0916.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-neighborhood.html"&gt;beautiful&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://loremipsum0916.blogspot.com/2007/07/in-sight-july-30.html"&gt;well&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://loremipsum0916.blogspot.com/2007/07/in-sight-july-31-part-2.html"&gt;manicured&lt;/a&gt;. Quite the opposite of what I've been looking at everyday for the last week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RrELS3gv4nI/AAAAAAAAAfI/G7vSAdrEhpQ/s1600-h/IMG_1056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RrELS3gv4nI/AAAAAAAAAfI/G7vSAdrEhpQ/s320/IMG_1056.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093865072299598450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our neighbors across the street are moving out and their pile of junk has grown larger and larger every day. Luckily tomorrow is trash day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.dooce.com/"&gt;Dooce&lt;/a&gt;. Doesn't everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I Am Excited About:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Simpson's Movie. I am hoping to go this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Payday. I am tired of being poor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-1401373488704509369?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/1401373488704509369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=1401373488704509369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/1401373488704509369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/1401373488704509369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/08/wednesday-roudup.html' title='Wednesday Roudup'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_gl17sAFOb6o/RrELS3gv4nI/AAAAAAAAAfI/G7vSAdrEhpQ/s72-c/IMG_1056.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-877887126077535356</id><published>2007-07-31T17:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T17:50:58.358-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Workplace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>Sigh.</title><content type='html'>So, today at Dick's workplace, they laid off a bunch of people. Dick escaped the chopping block, but his best work friend M did not. And Dick is pretty angry about the whole deal. We're happy that he has a job (for now) but it did not go down well. And at my Workplace today, my department learned the details of the crazy "We Can't Afford to Fill Any Empty Positions So You Guys All Have to Take On More Work With No Raises" plan. As you can guess, there was much rejoicing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In happier news, I went to Birmingham two weeks ago and had a great time drinking, eating, hanging out with my BFF and watching movies. Check out the photos here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;captions=1&amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fmlkurtzo%2Falbumid%2F5090508301954703377%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss%26authkey%3DwkR5LullRts" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a really good time. I realized how much I miss the great American road trip. I am hoping Dick and I can take a trip to Asheville for our anniversary in September. And I am really wishing we could go to Boston to visit the Bert of Jennbert, and maybe our friend Colleen and anyone else who moves there in the next six months, at some point before the end of the year. But school is starting up again soon (one month!) and then all my glorious plans will fall to the wayside as my brain is eaten by homework and studying. Stupid homework and studying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-877887126077535356?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/877887126077535356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=877887126077535356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/877887126077535356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/877887126077535356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/07/sigh.html' title='Sigh.'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-6943640975009973406</id><published>2007-07-31T08:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T08:41:03.195-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Workplace'/><title type='text'>I know a degenerate bitch when I see one</title><content type='html'>For the most part, work was lovely yesterday. I had a training class and learned a new program, which was pretty cool. And then I returned to my desk. Where I had 21 voicemails from various assholes and liars. And for the first time, I seriously considered just walking out and never returning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't though. I am about to leave for another fun-filled day right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In happier news, tonight I am going to post pictures from my Birmingham trip. Woot woot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-6943640975009973406?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/6943640975009973406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=6943640975009973406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/6943640975009973406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/6943640975009973406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-know-degenerate-bitch-when-i-see-one.html' title='I know a degenerate bitch when I see one'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1663620173024102476.post-5377942648734127426</id><published>2007-07-29T13:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T13:58:17.678-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrity Skin'/><title type='text'>Back in the day</title><content type='html'>Am I the only one who longs for the days when young starlets snorted cocaine in the privacy of their chauffeured limousines, and then gracefully exited without showing all their lady bits?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1663620173024102476-5377942648734127426?l=eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/feeds/5377942648734127426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1663620173024102476&amp;postID=5377942648734127426' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/5377942648734127426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1663620173024102476/posts/default/5377942648734127426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eatsleepworkstudy.blogspot.com/2007/07/back-in-day.html' title='Back in the day'/><author><name>Minnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00915584233495033472</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
