<?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-14429669</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:18:08.452-05:00</updated><category term='moving'/><category term='simple life'/><category term='boating'/><category term='aloe vera'/><category term='slide tackling'/><category term='lost'/><category term='soccer'/><category term='lottery'/><category term='injury'/><category term='broken bones'/><category term='bad friends'/><category term='bad leg'/><category term='website'/><category term='surgery'/><category term='company'/><category term='victoria harbour'/><category term='invalid'/><category term='crutches'/><category term='stranded'/><category term='deformed'/><category term='tv shows'/><category term='georgian bay'/><category term='acer'/><category term='good friends'/><category term='2008'/><category term='vista'/><category term='update'/><category term='friends'/><category term='lotto 649'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>That's Fascinating!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>144</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-4020613765625550623</id><published>2008-09-22T23:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T23:29:30.544-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"It could be worse"</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;That saying is meant to make people feel better but it creates the opposite in me. Thinking it could be worse and that other people have it worse makes me feel shitty for feeling shitty about my situation in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two weeks before my ankle was broken I was laid off from my job. I haven't worked in 3 months. Back in June when I was looking for a job there wasn't anything. I'm afraid to look now. And to be honest I don't know what to look for. I don't really want to do what I was doing previously. But I don't know what I'd rather do. Well I do know, but there's no way I can see to make money at it. So I feel stuck. I had thought maybe I'll just work at a temp agency until I figure it out. I feel lost and directionless. I don't know what to do, and I don't really want to do anything. The annoying part is I'm so bored all the time but I don't want to do anything at all. Sounds exactly like being stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do. Sometimes I'm so envious of people who have found a job they love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-4020613765625550623?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/4020613765625550623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=4020613765625550623' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/4020613765625550623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/4020613765625550623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2008/09/it-could-be-worse.html' title='&quot;It could be worse&quot;'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-3032288918999908896</id><published>2008-09-07T23:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T01:06:13.761-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soccer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slide tackling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='update'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='injury'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad friends'/><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;First off I want to start by answering a question that Sean wrote. He asked what happened to the bitchass ho that did this to me. The answer is not a fucking thing. My injury happened with around 5-10 minutes left in the game so with all the commotion they 1. didn't finish the game and 2. nothing happened to her. I'm not sure if i posted this already but right at the top of the rules for our league was NO SLIDE TACKLING. So something should have happened to her. BITCH! Once I'm better my awesome friend is going to take me out to get drunk then we're going to go and find this chick and put her in a body cast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so updates. Well on the 24th I get to find out if I can walk without this plastic cast I'm wearing. I am allowed to put weight on my foot only when wearing the cast. That's fine by me because I tried it without it on and it hurt so I see why. It kind of hurts with the cast on. The bone is completely healed I'm told it's just the ligaments that take forever to heal. My surgeon says bones heal in no time and if I had just broken it I would have probably been running around already. But I did some ligament damage as well so I'm SOL. I've started physiotherapy, but since I don't have a job and no health care I don't go very often, only once a week. Which is really fine with me because I don't have much energy anyway. I have exercises that I have to do and I get accupuncture to slow down the swelling in my ankle. I'm all for accupuncture but I haven't noticed a difference. Maybe it takes time and builds up...I don't know. Also with my visit to the surgeon on the 24th I'll find out about these extra pins that are in my ankle. Apparently 2 should come out. I can't wait because I can feel them through my skin. You can kind of see them actually. When I move my ankle I can tell it's not normal movement it's almost like I can feel my tendions and shit moving against those pins. (cringing yet? lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say you really learn who your friends are when something like this happens. My newest friends have been so much better than my oldest friends. You'd think it would be the other way around. Though the age of my newer friends could be a factor, one is 10 years older and one is 14 years older so...maybe that's it.  One of my really good friends calls me once in awhile. But it's from work so we never have a good talk. I don't remember the last time we had a good talk like the old times. I miss it. But alas things change and so do your relationships. But anyway my newer friends make sure to call me pretty often and visit me at least twice a month. I'm glad I found them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, what's a girl to do. I have to move with my parents so maybe a new city will be good. Maybe I'll find better people to be friends with. Or not...lol. It's not all bad, I understand barely having time for yourself let alone a crippled friend. Who needs crippled friends anyway? It's not like they're a whole person...haha just joking.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-3032288918999908896?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/3032288918999908896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=3032288918999908896' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/3032288918999908896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/3032288918999908896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2008/09/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-2347559728430206955</id><published>2008-08-08T10:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T10:53:04.034-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aloe vera'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deformed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad leg'/><title type='text'>Deformed</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;So I was looking at my leg the other day. The one in the cast. It's fucked looking. It's starting to deform and look nasty. It's got weird bumps and dips that shouldn't be there naturally. Guess that's what happens when you don't use your calf muscle for a bunch of weeks. It's still gross looking. I wonder how many weeks of physiotherapy it will take to get back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before I broke my leg I bought new summery type shoes. Now I'm only wearing one. The one is going to be so well worn and the other will be totally new. I hope it doesn't look stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd have more to post but I'm tired. I had to get up early today so I only had maybe 4 or 5 hours of sleep. I'm going to take my cast off, give my leg some air, put some aloe vera on my slices (incisions), turn off the lights and maybe find a movie to watch or something.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-2347559728430206955?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/2347559728430206955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=2347559728430206955' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2347559728430206955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2347559728430206955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2008/08/deformed.html' title='Deformed'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-6921366192045285399</id><published>2008-08-06T21:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T22:02:01.931-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='website'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lotto 649'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lottery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='company'/><title type='text'>I Think I Just Might Deserve it</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;So the 649 is at like 43 million or something right now. I could really use that money. I think after the shitty two years I've had I might deserve it. Or at least a million.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had that money I wouldn't do anything as I can't since I'm pretty immobile. But I'd not move. I don't want to move at all. Try moving to a new place with a broken leg. It doesn't work so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd also start my own company and make a website I've had stuck in my head for awhile now. You know those kind of ideas that keep you awake at night? It's a good idea and as far as I know no one has the same concept as I do. With the 43 million it wouldn't matter if I made money and that wouldn't be the driving factor for measuring success as most sites are. If you have craploads of money you can spend the time and money to focus on quality and the investors and advertisers will come. I think that's where a lot of good sites go down. They try to get it out fast and think that's good enough, then wonder why no one comes to their site and why they have no advertising dollars. I could go on forever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I think maybe I deserve it. I'm sure there are tons of people who are in need more than I. But with all the shit I've gone through maybe it's time for something good to happen for once!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-6921366192045285399?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/6921366192045285399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=6921366192045285399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/6921366192045285399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/6921366192045285399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-think-i-just-might-deserve-it.html' title='I Think I Just Might Deserve it'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-5658810441364533064</id><published>2008-08-05T13:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T14:05:35.431-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='victoria harbour'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crutches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='georgian bay'/><title type='text'>Boating on Crutches Sucks</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; I have an appointment tomorrow that I'm not looking forward to. Last time I had an appointment it was for 10 something in the morning. I didn't get in until 3 something. Ridiculous. It's hard to sit there it's so uncomfortable when you have a broken bone. Easy if you have a broken arm but not leg. The fracture clinic is kind of far from a door so it's a long way to crutch. I'm worried about crutching it there because the crutches kind of rub on my sides and we all know what that means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have about 10 pins in my ankle somewhere and I was told I'd have to get 2 taken out. I'm not looking forward to that. I wonder how they will do it I mean my two slices are healing pretty nicely I think. Will I get a new slice to take out these two pins? will they slice on an existing slice? How will they make it so it doesn't hurt? I guess I'll found out tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went up to our family boat in &lt;a href="http://maps.google.ca/maps?hl=en&amp;q=Victoria+Harbour+ontario&amp;um=1&amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;sa=X&amp;oi=geocode_result&amp;resnum=1&amp;ct=title"&gt;Victoria Harbour&lt;/a&gt;. I didn't really want to go but I went because my mom hasn't really been able to go anywhere because of me. We stayed two nights on the boat. One night was enough for me...on the second morning I was ready to get the hell out of there. It was beautiful and all but it was just way too uncomfortable and I must say boring. Here they were swimming and movin about the boat as they like while I'm confined to a sun bed not daring to get up incase of losing balance with the waves and falling. I'm glad we were all able to get out and my mom didn't have to worry about me being at home alone or something like that but still I don't want to be on the boat if I'm still on crutches. I'm sure I'll have to go again soon but I'm hoping it won't have to be until I can walk on my own.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-5658810441364533064?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/5658810441364533064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=5658810441364533064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5658810441364533064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5658810441364533064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2008/08/boating-on-crutches-sucks.html' title='Boating on Crutches Sucks'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-2908758327522387998</id><published>2008-07-31T13:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T14:36:25.347-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='invalid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surgery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='broken bones'/><title type='text'>Shit Flies in Chunks of Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I'm still around and boy have I got some shit to share. So everyone says the bad comes in threes, I'm starting to believe. So here's the scoop:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. To start things off my parents drop on me they want to move pretty far away from where we are now. I live with them to save money because when I move out I'd prefer to move out to something half decent instead of a shit hole. So that sucks but I can deal. It would be nice to be on my own. So it sucks but it's ok. I have a pretty good paying job and I had recently received a raise so I figure I can do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I get layed off. The company I work for folds and I have no job. This was a huge surprise to everyone as we thought this company was a sure thing. I'm kind of glad I don't work for this company anymore because it was a shit company with shitty leadership and I have no doubt that because of shitty leadership the company fell. But anyway I'm layed off, and have to move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm playing soccer in an attempt to stay somewhat active. So at one of my soccer games not even a month after getting layed off a girl comes in and slide checks me and both breaks my leg and dislocates my ankle. This in itself was the most painful thing I have ever experienced in my life. I started screaming before I even hit the ground. I'm whisked off to the hospital in an ambulance where I am awake while they relocate my ankle which was also extremely painful. Then the next day I go into surgery. And guess what? I'm awake for that too. With a blue sheet infront of my face I can hear them drilling screws into me. Luckily I didn't feel this as I had a spinal which was also laced with morphine. It took me hours just to wiggle my toes. So this was my first time breaking a bone, my first time in an ambulance, my first surgery and my first catheter. What a great time for firsts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm jobless and couldn't work if I had a job. I have to rely on my mom to do just about everything for me. I'm on crutches for awhile. I have a doctor's appointment on the 6th so we'll see what he says. I do know that I have to get 2 of the 10 pins or screws taken out of my ankle. So that sucks. I also have a large metal plate in my leg as well. I'll have to ask if I'll set off the metal detectors at the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see my life is shit right now. It's all I can do to stay remotely positive. I can't shower without my mom being there. I can't get food for myself when I'm hungry, I can't do laundry, clean or anything. I would have rathered I broke my arm instead of my leg. When you break an arm at least you can still walk and still have a good arm. When you break a leg yes you still have a good leg but it's like you only have a leg because your arms now become like another leg because of crutches. I can't carry anything. Basically I can't be left alone for long periods of time. So that's my life right now. What about yours?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-2908758327522387998?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/2908758327522387998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=2908758327522387998' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2908758327522387998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2908758327522387998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2008/07/shit-flies-in-chunks-of-three.html' title='Shit Flies in Chunks of Three'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-7270050441571888439</id><published>2008-03-06T22:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T22:50:33.942-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv shows'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simple life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stranded'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost'/><title type='text'>A Simpler Life?</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;So I've been watching all the seasons of &lt;a href="http://abc.go.com/primetime/lost/index?pn=index"&gt;Lost&lt;/a&gt; and couldn't help but think how it might actually be nice to just live on an island. If you just put aside the fact that there are "monsters" on that island, their only worries are making sure they eat everyday, have shelter, keep warm, and that's about it. Other than making sure you don't get badly hurt since there are no hospitals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But would it really be that bad? No need to worry about your job because your job becomes making sure you live to see another morning. No need to worry about how Nancy in the cubicle over is sucking up big time and you might lose your edge in the promotion. No need to worry about paying this month's rent, you literally have palm fronts sheltering you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catch my drift? It might actually be a nice relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again it might not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-7270050441571888439?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/7270050441571888439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=7270050441571888439' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/7270050441571888439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/7270050441571888439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2008/03/simpler-life.html' title='A Simpler Life?'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-5481764791687706833</id><published>2008-02-22T22:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T22:54:18.396-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vista'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2008'/><title type='text'>2008 First Post</title><content type='html'>Wow, it's almost March and this is my first post. How embarassing!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a new laptop, it's an Acer. I hate more things about it than i love. for example the left shift key is the same size as a regular letter key. So I'm always hitting the second key they added. why in HELL would you mess with the shift keys? I mean of all keys you mess with one of the keys people use most and people are so used to having a certain way. it's actually really hard to use it the way it is. no one uses the far left side of the left shift key. or for that matter the far right side of the right shift key. it's just stupid. I HATE YOU ACER YOU WEREN'T CLEVER IN ADDED ANOTHER USELESS KEY I'LL NEVER USE EXCEPT FOR WHEN I HIT IT ACCIDENTALLY!  And don't even get me started on how i had to have vista. they literally wouldn't let me have windows. fuckers!! i even tried to wipe the machine and start over and it still wouldn't let me. smart jerks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-5481764791687706833?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/5481764791687706833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=5481764791687706833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5481764791687706833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5481764791687706833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2008/02/2008-first-post.html' title='2008 First Post'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-8519824348666835975</id><published>2007-12-01T16:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T16:46:46.951-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lesson Learned</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I learned a valuable lesson today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are left handed and are purchasing something from a store and happen to notice the person is left handed too, DO NOT MENTION YOU ARE LEFT HANDED AS WELL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my downfall. I was in this antique store today and I bought a gift for a friend. The lady was writing up my bill and I noticed she was left handed. I said oh you're left handed so am I. What a mistake. She proceeds to tell me it's messed her up. And when she was little she was forced to be right handed. And she's on a &lt;b&gt;low&lt;/b&gt; dose of schitzo medication to make her left and right lobes work together. It was really weird. And very awkward. Nice lady but just a very uncomfortable situation for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I just go places and buy shit without hearing people's fucked up life stories? Is it me or is it weird to just tell random people you've never seen before your whole weird life story? Would you ever do that? I know I wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even know what to say. "oh that sucks that your parents made you be right handed", "I'm sorry to hear that the fact that you were forced to be right handed gave you a speach problem and you had to go to a speach therapist". Awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Well&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-8519824348666835975?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/8519824348666835975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=8519824348666835975' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/8519824348666835975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/8519824348666835975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/12/lesson-learned.html' title='Lesson Learned'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-8289231643137636537</id><published>2007-09-24T18:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T19:21:44.839-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I'm still around, so do not worry!....Thanks for worrying though lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having a hard time lately. I'm trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. No easy task I know. I want to leave my job. I hate it, it's boring and I'm just sick of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have no idea what I want to do. Quite the dilema. I feel like a loser. No clear vision of who I am or what I want to become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so wiped out I can't even think of something interesting or funny to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-8289231643137636537?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/8289231643137636537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=8289231643137636537' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/8289231643137636537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/8289231643137636537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/09/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m Still Here'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-2930497575096171538</id><published>2007-07-22T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T21:03:04.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can You Carry a Conversation?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CZkoxidrOxs/RqQMURXJNiI/AAAAAAAAAAU/lm6sR4LNLxo/s1600-h/justin_howinteresting.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CZkoxidrOxs/RqQMURXJNiI/AAAAAAAAAAU/lm6sR4LNLxo/s400/justin_howinteresting.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090207021232895522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt; Have you ever talked with someone where you literally had to carry the conversation? BRUTAL. Those people annoy the crap out of me. I imagine those people must have grown up in a cave with nothing but themselves and their imaginary friend who wouldn't even talk them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think those people are boring or just don't know how to talk?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-2930497575096171538?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/2930497575096171538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=2930497575096171538' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2930497575096171538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2930497575096171538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/07/have-you-ever-talked-with-someone-where.html' title='Can You Carry a Conversation?'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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://bp0.blogger.com/_CZkoxidrOxs/RqQMURXJNiI/AAAAAAAAAAU/lm6sR4LNLxo/s72-c/justin_howinteresting.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-2243930740109390660</id><published>2007-07-17T19:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T20:26:51.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Miss</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; I was driving home today from baseball (we lost, no surprise) and saw these two kids walking home from some pond with fishing rods and gear. It really made me yearn for summer vacation. I miss it. I want it back. To literally bum around for two whole months, what the hell else could you wish for? Not get dressed for a couple days? SUMMER VACATION YOU ROCK AND I MISS YOU!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss talking on the phone with friends for hours. Seems like no one calls anyone anymore unless they have a reason. I fall into that category too. I feel like I'm bothering people if I call them. Which makes no sense because I love it when people call me and I'm totally not being bothered. But then I don't have a life and most everyone else does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But did you ever do that? Spend hours on the phone with friends talking about nothing? My one friend and I used to watch two shows one after the other, 2 hours, on the phone, we really only talked during commercials about what just happened, or we'd laugh at the same time at something. I miss those days and I miss doing that. I miss getting yelled at to get off the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the days when I didn't menstrate. Menstrating sucks. I hate my angry uterus. I'm pretty sure it hates me too considering how much of a bitch it is to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss having friends within walking distance of me. Especially when I becamse legal to drink. Sucks not being able to stumble home drunk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss going out and stealing road signs. No we weren't drinking. Many times I woke up the next day with a sore stomach from laughing so hard. Fuck those times were so funny. We'd drive around on farm roads at night and pick signs to steal. It didnt' really matter what signs. Just that we stole them. One summer we went around stealing all the "food for sale" signs, you knwo the ones like "sweet corn" and "Fresh strawberries". We collected a lot and stashed them in a friend's garage. This was done with the intent of putting them all on my other friend's yard so people would think they had shit for sale. Alas her father found the signs and tossed them. So sad, that would have been hilarious!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss being skinny. I was really skinny, then something happened. Puberty? I don't know. I've been told there's a medical reason for this but I don't really want to find out what it is. I think it will be scary. I'm working on it though. I should really make sure I don't die...I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you miss?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-2243930740109390660?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/2243930740109390660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=2243930740109390660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2243930740109390660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2243930740109390660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/07/things-i-miss.html' title='Things I Miss'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-2923655685707739803</id><published>2007-07-16T20:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T21:07:09.601-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone is Attacking Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; I'm convinced someone is attacking me in my sleep. I just found another bruise on my body. My uppper thigh. I have no idea where they are coming from. I used to get them when I fought with my friend but we haven't done that in years and I can't remember the last time I saw her actually. So it can't be her. I'm not having sex so that's not the cause. I haven't played sports so...not it. I can come to only one logical conclusion, someone is attacking me in my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why do I always noticed said bruises when I'm going pee? I whip down my pants, sit down and oh, there's another damn bruise. I have another one practically in my armpit. A spot that makes no sense. Like even if someone grabbed me they couldn't get a bruise there. I'd like to know who the hell is attacking me in my sleep. Maybe it's me, attacking myself. Do you think? No I think it makes more sense that someone is attacking me in my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's with people getting up a bagillion times during a movie? You couldn't go to the bathroom before the movie? The bathroom was literally right next to the theatre. ON YOUR WAY to your seat! It's one thing if you have a little kid, I'll forgive your poor judgment on that one. But I'm talking adults and teenagers. The movie wasn't that long. I go the whole day at work without going to the bathroom, surely these people can last two and a half hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do kids ask so many questions? How are they oblivious to how extremely annoying they are. If I were a parent I'd yell STOP ASKING SO MANY QUESTIONS! And then I'd say "Go ask your father."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my friend's kid to &lt;a href="http://www.playdium.com/"&gt;Playdium&lt;/a&gt; yesterday. Fucking Awesome. I forgot how fun that place is. To be honest the kid cramped my style and slowed me down. But it was her birthday so she gets a free pass. For those of you who don't know, Playdium is this giant place with tons of different games. There are shooting games, dancing games, car racing games. It's wicked. It also has those games where you win tickents and then can get toys and shit. We found this one game where you win tons of tickets practically everytime. Anyway the games were a bit beyond her grasp, she's 9. She didn't quite get that you have to reload your gun to shoot the zombies. I want to go back sans little kids. I love shit like that. I could have spent craploads of money there, but I didn't. I was careful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it awesome when you can get away with not buying a kid a gift, and your gift to them is that they get to spend the day with you? What a gyp to them. Suckers! I spent a little more than I would have on a gift but I had fun so that makes it worth it. When you get a kid a toy what fun is that for you? After Playdium we went to A&amp;W for lunch...cheap again, then to Walmart so she could buy herself some shit she doesn't need with her newly acquired birthday money, and to my house for a swim. At that point I was freakin tired. I had a long week. Then the other two kids wanted to come for a swim so I had to entertain for longer. Then I went to their place for a giant steak dinner. When I say giant I mean it. The steak was bigger than the plate. It was hanging over the edge. It wasn't some small plate either. I literally had meat for dinner....MMMMMMMMM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did you do on your Sunday?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-2923655685707739803?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/2923655685707739803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=2923655685707739803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2923655685707739803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/2923655685707739803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/07/someone-is-attacking-me.html' title='Someone is Attacking Me'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-3989021918538321816</id><published>2007-07-13T18:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T19:28:03.141-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Change of Pace</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Holy shit I was planning on changing things up a bit and writing a NOT depressing blog post. But I'm watching this documentary about pigs and it really brought me down. I still love bacon to death though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on vacation this week. It was nice. I really hate working! Seriously hate working. And it's not just because I hate my job....with a bitter passion. I really just want to do my own thing. but then again who the hell doesn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I spent a couple days zooming around on Lake Ontario. It was fun. There are some amazing huge and beautiful homes along the waterfront. Lucky bastards. What did they do to earn their huge moneys? How can I do the same? I need one of those lightbulb moments. I've never had one. Have you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am however creating a website. Details will come but really it's just for fun and I don't really expect much from it. I'm looking forward to adding the content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the new harry potter movie that day it opened. In fact one of my bestest friends and I spent two days watching the previous movies in preparation for the newest addition. I have to say it is by far my favorite so far. I really had low expectations for it because it's the largest book so far. So there was much more to cut out of the movie. It was well done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I really don't have anything cheery to write about. I'm not in that state of cheery mind lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thought though, the other day when driving to Lake Ontario I saw some dude walking along the sidewalk to wherever he was going. I'm sure he's a really nice guy but why oh WHY must you walk around in a sweater with your hood up? You look like total SKETCH. Way to scare the crap out of people and make them give you a wide berth when walking by. He looks like one of those police sketches of someone who robbed a corner store. So...why do people do that? YOU LOOK SKETCHY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of getting some shirts made. I can't wait. Finally I've come up with my first design. When I get it made I'll post some pics. But really it's an inside joke so no one will find it funny except for me and one other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway there's my attempt at a non-depressing post.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-3989021918538321816?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/3989021918538321816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=3989021918538321816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/3989021918538321816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/3989021918538321816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/07/change-of-pace.html' title='A Change of Pace'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-51598298304212971</id><published>2007-06-13T22:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T22:22:29.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is This for Real?</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; So I think that if I was NOT me I'd find my whole situation comical and would start to believe it was all just made up. One of those people that shitty bad things just happen to all the time. You know those characters, ones where you're like ok enough of that person getting shit on it's not really that funny anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night I get home from baseball. We lost again and I got nailed in the leg by a line drive. I hope I get an awesome bruise. Anyway I get home. Decide I'm beat and go to bed. Maybe 15 minutes later there's a knock at my door. It's my brother. I say ya you can come in. He comes in turns the light on and says Suki (my dog who I love to death) can't walk. I was like WHAT? what happened? he says she tried to jump up on the couch landed, cried out, freak out, pissed herself and now she can't use her back legs. She's literally dragging her back legs. I go wtf how is that even possible? Yet again, you could say I was all alone because my asshole brother says can i leave her with you because he has friends over and wants to swim in the pool and drink and smoke up.  He never said that but that's what he ended up doing so he's still and asshole with no heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm sitting there alone in my room with my dog who I have a very special connection with. She's in obvious discomfort, she can't walk, she's shaking a bit and god love her she tries to comfort me. I swear to god I almost lost it, I thought to myself I can't take this shit anymore. I literally can't take this. How much can I deal with? I'm sitting there thinking should I call the vet? I'm thinking it's a spinal injury, i was feeling all around and didn't feel anything wrong and she didn't show obvious discomfort when I touched her anywhere. My mom was at her class and I had no idea when she'd be home. I was almost panicky. I didn't want to have to deal with this alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom got home, we talked and decided to call the vet. I was the one who made the decision, I should have just done it myself. But anyway we decided the best thing to do was to ice her back and bring her into the vet's in the morning for them to check her over. I find out today that she has to go in for surgery because they think she has this condition that is prevalent in small dogs called degenerative disk disorder or something. I was like wtf she's only 3 years old. Apparently it's common. The poor little thing (she's a shitzu) might not be able to walk for the rest of her life, or if she's lucky we'll literally have to watch her and make sure she never does anything that will hurt her back. This is fucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a vacation from my life. Can you trade your life for a different one? Can you test drive a different life for a bit? Maybe rent one or lease one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said if it weren't me i'd probably laugh at me. Like holy shit. Is it me or is this like some shitty dream that you're waiting to wake up from? One of those shitty bad dreams that in the actual dream you realize this is a dream but still can't wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have been some incredibly awful person in a past life and this is my time to pay. I hope I've paid and it's all uphill from here!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-51598298304212971?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/51598298304212971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=51598298304212971' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/51598298304212971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/51598298304212971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/06/is-this-for-real.html' title='Is This for Real?'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-197093646856703811</id><published>2007-06-06T21:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T10:51:36.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Today I spent more than half the day feeling like I was going to cry. I feel like an idiot at work. I feel totally lost. I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. I wonder why the fuck I'm still around. My boss pisses me off she can't explain anything and then makes me feel stupid for not fucking knowing how to do something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me think I should start looking for another job. I have no idea wtf to look for. My mom says maybe you should go back to school for more training. TRAINING FOR WHAT I say, she had no answer. Why the hell can't I just know what I'm meant to do and start doing it. This doesn't feel right. Is it just that I'm not particularly fond of feeling like I don't know what I'm doing? Could be. But right now I feel horrible. I feel absolutely like shit. I just want to curl up and die. How do I get myself out of this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've lost some friends. People I could talk to. I feel like I won't be close with them anymore. I'm sick of being stressed. And I think being stressed makes me sick. I just want stuff to go right and work out for me for once. What do I do? Why isn't there someone who can just tell me? I feel lost but I know where I am. I feel like when I turn a corner some asshole is going to be there to knock me on the ground and kick me when I'm down. I'm tired all the time. I'm constantly having troubles falling asleep. And then I wake up before my alarm. I need my sleep. If it's a choice between eating or sleeping, sleeping all the way! I miss my sleep. I'm sure my sleep misses me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my dog. I miss hearing her nails clicking on the floor as she was constantly pacing and searching for food. It drove me insane but now I miss it. Sometimes I stop and realize I was listening for it and getting ready to yell at her to lay the fuck down. I miss her unusually soft hair. I miss all the compliments I got about her. I even miss grooming her. She always looked so good even when I fucked it up and cut something wrong or too short or missed a piece. No one ever noticed but me. I miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss having grandparents. I didn't talk to them nearly enough. I didn't get to have the relationship with them that I should have. I want to turn back time with the knowledge that I have now and change so many things. I wish I was smart enough to be able to do that. I know my grandparents are so much better off but I don't care. I want them back. I know I'm selfish and I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is too short to be feeling so aweful for so long. I just want it all to end. I even feel bad for making whoever is reading this feel depressed.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-197093646856703811?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/197093646856703811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=197093646856703811' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/197093646856703811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/197093646856703811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-dont-know.html' title='I Don&apos;t Know'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-5595509466633824026</id><published>2007-05-23T22:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T22:36:19.372-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Long Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;For those of you who don't know this past weekend was a long weekend for us in Canada. My whole weekend was used up on my best friend's wedding. I definitely learned a few things about myself this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I can NOT handle being around couples for any length of time. I really hit my breaking point this weekend. If you're not single you just can't understand what it's like. I was surrounded by "love fucks" as I call them. They're in love and they're fucking annoying. You know who I'm talking about. those rather new couples who just can't keep their hands to themselves and who insist on that lovey dovey type talk to each other that is really quite sickening to people around them. I'm sorry, it's not cute. Not only are you not cute but you alienate single people around you. AND THEN you wonder why your single friends don't want to hang around you and your other. My best friend and her new husband get a pass since they just got married but the other two couples don't. It was annoying and by the Monday I had to get out. I made my appearance and ran. I was close to losing it. Seriously. After Friday, Saturday and Sunday of that love fuck shit I'd had it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized I NEED my single friends. I think i'd go crazy without them. Then I realized my single friends are slowly dwindling down to nothing. I wonder if there's some sort of network of single people who just want friends who are unattached. I'd join if there were. No offense to people who've found someone but you're seriously annoying. You make your single friends feel like the 3rd, 5th, 7th wheel. Now there are exceptions. These exceptions are couples who've been together so long they're glad to have friends who they can see without their "other". Those people I can handle and quite enjoy. They've usually been married for many years and the novelty has worn off. Also, there's the people who are just awesome couples that don't totally hang off each other and really don't make you feel like the 3rd wheel. Those couples are hard to find. If you find one DON'T LET THEM GO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong I'm extremely happy for my bestest friend and her husband. They're perfect for eachother. I'm sure they'll be happy for the rest of their lives. I'm honored to be included in their wedding day. but I think those of you who are single know what I'm talkin about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what else did I learn? Hmm... OH I learned that I can really surpass my comfort zone and it ends up being worth it in the end if it makes someone important to you happy. A big thing for me is that I HATE wearing dresses. I like dresses on other people, but on me I hate them. For the wedding I wore one. I'm still pretty pissed about the fact that I had to shell out a crap load of money for some stupid dress I'll NEVER wear again. That was a huge thing for me. I was extremely uncomfortable wearing this dress. It kind of ruined my night and the whole experience actually. But it made my friend so happy so it was pretty close to worth it in the end. I still would have looked awesome if I didn't wear a dress and I'm pretty sure I would have looked even better than in a dress because I would have been comfortable in it. But oh well, i'll never do it again. And if my friend should happen to ask once more I'll say fuck you, dresses aren't me and if you don't like who i am then you're not the greatest friend in the world. But seriously the wedding was awesome, i got a lot of comments about my speech. I thought it sucked but apparently according to others it was great. The food was amazing, the people were great, the bar was open (FREE). Best of all I'm sure this was the happiest day of my friend's life...until she has kids, and I was there to witness it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned that it takes WAY less time in the sun to get fucking burned to a crisp. Man i spent MAYBE 2 hours in the sun and i was burnt. stupid ozone layer. I'm sure there will be a time we can't even go out without some sort of protective suit on. I'm also sure it will be at a time I'm not alive, so I don't really care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I learned more but I'm so tired, I had a few glasses of wine and no one really cares since barely anyone knows about this blog anyway. So let me know about your weekend so I'm not totally bored when I go to work. &lt;h4&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-5595509466633824026?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/5595509466633824026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=5595509466633824026' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5595509466633824026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5595509466633824026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-long-weekend.html' title='My Long Weekend'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-5635450593748074225</id><published>2007-04-28T21:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T22:07:49.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Magnet</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;My dog has decided to leave me too. She died on Friday morning. I really miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to feel like some sort of death magnet. In less than a year my favorite grandma has died, my boss's mother died, another co-worker's dad died, my other grandma died and my dog has died. 3/5 deaths happened this month. I've decided I HATE APRIL. shitty fucking month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a hard time with this. I had to deal with my grandma and dog dying all by myself. My parents were in british columbia with my grandma when she died. When i found my dog dead it was awful. i did'nt know what to do. i just sat there and cried. thoughts were racing through my mind: was she in pain? why wasn't i there when she died? i'll never touch her again, i'll never bath her, groom her, walk her, yell at her to get out of the garbage or watch her fish in the pond ever again. I'll never anything with her again. It's weird not having her around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was hard enough with my grandma dying but why my dog too? someone really fucking hates me that's for sure. what the hell is this shit? let's wipe out her last remaining grandparents and then her closest companion just to make sure she's fucked up. nice, real nice. And why did I have to do it all alone? This has been by far the hardest thing i've ever had to do on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have looked like a moron in the vet's office too. I didn't know what to do with her body. She still had tubes hooked up to her so I took her to the vet. I walked in there carrying her dead body in a kitty litter box. yes, you read right, the box was for the piss bag that was hooked up to her you know what. I walked in there and the chick said oh is she still layed out and i said, "she's dead" she said oh want me to take her? I handed her my dead dog. two seconds later she wants to know if i want to cremate her and if i want the ashes and how do i want to pay for everything. Now i'm not opposed to paying for services but have a fucking heart i walked into your room with my fucking dead dog, i've obviously been crying my eyes out and can barely talk to you, you could probably send me the bill in the mail instead of not even giving me 5 minutes. fucker! I now do not like that chick whoever she was and thank god she's not my vet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss my dog. We've always had dogs but 10 years ago i talked my dad into letting me get a dog. I saved up my own money and bought her myself. She was my dog. I trained her, she was my first really big responsibility. We grew up together. she was my best friend. She loved me and I her. She wasn't the healthiest dog and i hope she feels a lot better and I hope she didn't go through a lot of pain, i wish i could have done more for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funy, i feel like i've lost a lot. I feel kind of empty. I have a hard time smiling. I'm emotionally exhausted. I just want to lay in bed and never get up again. everything just sucks. I'm at the bottom and as they say things can only get better. or can they?....&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-5635450593748074225?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/5635450593748074225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=5635450593748074225' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5635450593748074225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5635450593748074225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/04/im-magnet.html' title='I&apos;m a Magnet'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-3921529737027701172</id><published>2007-04-24T18:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T18:16:08.687-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She took her leave</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;She's gone. I miss her already. I'm told her death was painless, but sometimes I wonder if that's what they always say. I guess I'd say that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma was an awesome grandma. I don't think I ever told her that but she was. She always made my favorite foods when she knew I was coming over...ok my brother's too, not just me. She always had little fancy cups of jellow or pudding waiting for dessert. She always did fun craft things with us too. She was in no way a "cool" grandma but I don't think they ever are. She cared a lot about us grandkids and showed it. Grandparents are the best thing, everyone should get to experience that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dog isn't getting any better and every morning I wake up and look for signs of breathing. Is it bad I'm expecting her to be dead? I suppose it should be positive thinking not thoughts of death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-3921529737027701172?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/3921529737027701172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=3921529737027701172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/3921529737027701172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/3921529737027701172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/04/she-took-her-leave.html' title='She took her leave'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-8902827601909243510</id><published>2007-04-21T10:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T10:17:21.739-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Much Can You Handle?</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;You never really know how much you can handle until a whole pile of things are thrown at you. Can you do it? Can you take it all on and not go crazy? Maybe. Maybe not. You won't know until you try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my mom on Friday at noon to find out when she made an eye appointment for me. My eyes are getting shittier. I was annoyed with her because we were going to make appointments together so she could help me pick out new glasses. I don't want to pick out new ones on my own. I think I'll need a second opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me she wasn't going to be there to help me out. She's flying out to Vancouver &lt;strong&gt;&lt;b&gt;that afternoon&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;Your grandma is in coma she tells me. WTF? It's all happening so fast. She had a stroke on Wednesday or Thursday and she was doing ok but now it's worse. It's my mom's dad. He was in Chicago doing something for work. He had to fly from there to Vancouver. My mom said he was crying on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was all very hard to hear over the phone &lt;strong&gt;at work&lt;/strong&gt;. Then she tells me I should probably take my dog to the vet. She has all this shit coming out of her nose. It's actually plugging up her nose. I couldn't help but think. OMG what if I have to put my dog down. No one is here to give me support. Can I do that on my own? I don't think I can. Most importantly this isn't something i &lt;strong&gt;want&lt;/strong&gt; to do on my own. And of course there were thoughts of death for my grandma as well. It was really great to have this all racing through my mind at work for 5 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home from work and literally picked my dog's nose. It was gross. I had to get tweezers and use them. The stuff was crusted and hard. I had to soften it up. The thing that really tugged at my heart was that she let me do it. She didn't fuss, she didn't try to pull away or be difficult as she always is. She just lay there, i got the feeling there isn't any fight left in her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do bad things happen together because it would be too hard to deal with if they happened all the time? I'm beginning to wonder about that.  For the past little while it's seemed any time i need help or support or need to not be alone there's been no one around. I'm wondering if it's a sign. "Just deal with your shit yourself" someone is trying to tell me. "You're strong you can do it", they might be saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't deal with the hard things in your life on your own i guess you'll never know what you're made of. Things just get hard, it's part of life, i'd better get used to it.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-8902827601909243510?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/8902827601909243510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=8902827601909243510' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/8902827601909243510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/8902827601909243510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/04/how-much-can-you-handle.html' title='How Much Can You Handle?'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-680645994864457554</id><published>2007-04-04T21:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T21:17:53.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Angriest of Angry</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Have you ever been so full of anger it consumes you? You can't even imagine not being angry. It could even be the littlest thing that sets you off. but its that little thing over and over and over again.  You know it's stupid but you just can't help it. the anger slowly creeps into your every being. until you're almost shaking with complete genuine anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i have anger issues.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-680645994864457554?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/680645994864457554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=680645994864457554' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/680645994864457554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/680645994864457554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/04/angriest-of-angry.html' title='Angriest of Angry'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-5809630202659530378</id><published>2007-03-02T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T23:34:31.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wasted Talent</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;You ever know someone who had some awesome talent like drawing, painting, writing, speaking.....etc and just let it waste away? You just want to shake them and say wake up can't you see what you have? I've known people like that. I mean for god sakes they could make a decent living at it. There are those people who believe you shouldn't take something you love and twist it into a moneymaker. I understand that point but if you could make money doing something you love...imagine that. Not many people get to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sad what someone can do to themselves. The mind is a powerful thing. Just think you have all this talent, everyone says so, and you're actually able to tell yourself you're not that great. Amazing. Think of what you could do if you changed that thought process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think those criminal sketch artists are incredible. How do they do that? How can they just draw something based on what someone says? I've never been able to draw. ever. I've always been jealous of people who can, and always will. Have you ever watched someone draw? You should if you haven't. Watching someone bring something to life from their imagination is quite something. I recommend it! I know a few people who can draw and I love to watch them draw. I'll admit that I exploit them for their talents in order to create my own things. But whatever. It's still their work in mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self doubt. It sure can do a number. Wouldn't it be great to be able to turn it off so you could actually make some good decisions? It's hard not to talk down to yourself. Everyone does it. If I had one wish it would be to relieve those close to me of all their self doubts. Let them be free. It would be such a gift to see them shine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do with your one wish?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-5809630202659530378?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/5809630202659530378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=5809630202659530378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5809630202659530378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5809630202659530378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/03/wasted-talent.html' title='Wasted Talent'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-5928954321911697845</id><published>2007-02-11T00:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T00:40:08.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WHAT THE HELL</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was just forced to switch to that new blogger. stupid thing. that pisses me off. why do i need to switch?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;so my birthday was last week. I kind of got burned this year. I was doing so well at work. NO ONE knew it was my bday. then late afternoon i get called to the front because something arrived for me. it's a vase full of flowers and the card says it's from my parents. i was pissed. i knew my mom did that just because i didn't tell anyone it was my bday. so then i had to deal with "what's with the flowers" from people all day. i'm so stupid though. i could have just made up some story about getting flowers. but i was so shocked i actually told the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;so the reason i got burned is i've had to do SO MUCH bday stuff because everyone was feeling guilty for not knowing.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;so last weekend my friend had me over for drinks and movies. then the next night my other friend had me over for dinner and drinks. then friday i had to go out for lunch because the people i work with had to take me out. I went out tonight with my family for dinner tonight. THEN this monday i have to go over to my boss's place for dinner because "we have to do something for your birthday". when will it end? i'm not much for attention being focused on me. it makes me uncomfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;oh well i guess people like me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I wanted to write more but i have a migraine. it makes my brain all foggy. i can't think. i'm thinking i'll go to bed. I'm hoping the pain will magically go away. it never does. isn't it funny how you know better but you still hope for hopeless things? isn't that the definition of insanity? doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-5928954321911697845?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/5928954321911697845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=5928954321911697845' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5928954321911697845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/5928954321911697845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/02/what-hell.html' title='WHAT THE HELL'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-116943068859935788</id><published>2007-01-21T19:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T20:51:28.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Today I had the urge to clean up my room. I could barely get to my bed from the door. it was pretty bad. I'm not even half way done. I stopped because i was hungry and bored. i hate cleaning. I also found some pictures of my grandma and me when i was little. that put a damper on things. I miss her. I miss hearing her stories, even if she told them over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also decided to rip a bunch of things off my wall. they've been there for at least 5 years. I also decided that i am sick of sleeping on a makeshift bed which consists of a box spring and a mattress. I'm going to get my bed re-upholstered. If no one will help me or they are too damn lazy which is most likely the case, then i'll figure it out and do it on my own. I'll research it if i have to because i'm sick of not having a real bed to sleep on. Actually. i don't care but it pisses me off how the mattress slips and slides off the box spring. that's what i'm sick of. My birthday is almost here and last year my parents bought me the fabric to redo my bed...it still isn't done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't usually tell people about my birthday. sometimes i'll tell people if i think they'll forget. but as a general rule no one is allowed to know. it is pissing me off that some people are finding out when it is. i don't get how. someone must be spilling the beans. I don't like people knowing because it's not a big deal. so i was born on that day...who cares. so i lived for another day, big whoop. i don't like people to make a bid deal out of it. i havn'te decided what i want to do this year. most likely nothing. probably a dinner at some restaurant with my parents. that will sum it up. maybe one day i'll think of something cool to do for my birthday. or a friend will get fed up with my lack of enthusiasm for my birth and kidnap me to some fun event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sounds like fun. i think i might do that for a friend. wouldn't that be fun to plan? some surprise weekend where you kidnap your friend who isn't allowed to know what's going on? good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to kareokee with janice and her husband saturday night. it was quite amusing. i haven't laughed that hard in ever. i reallly can't remember the last time. most likely it was with one of my bestestes but anyway it was hilarious. I got her to go up a couple times. she was so bad. not even a little bit good. one time she was a line behind the song. so funny. her husband and i burst out laughing. it was priceless. we're going to do it again whenever they're doing kareokee again there. i'll be sure to remember to bring the video camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there was the goldschlager. i bought her a shot. she said she liked cinnamon hearts. the look on her face as it slid down her throat will forever be imprinted in my memory. that feeling you get in your stomach after  you've laughed incredibly hard. where it feels like you did some serious ab work. a great night indeedly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how was your saturday night?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116943068859935788?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116943068859935788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116943068859935788' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116943068859935788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116943068859935788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/01/change.html' title='A Change'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-116892407304214328</id><published>2007-01-15T23:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T00:07:53.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dropped off the face of the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I just got a fortune cookie that says "Your heart is pure, and your mind is clear." How come these things are never even close with me? My heart couldn't be further from pure. I'm an asshole. I judge people. Laugh at little kids when they fall down....ITS FUNNY OK! Laugh at people when they get hurt. Don't have much sympathy for others. I could go on but i think i've proved beyond a shadow of a doubt I'm an asshole. I don't really understand why people even choose to hang around me let alone want to be my friend. It literally blows me away if i sit and think about it. - so i don't -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend thinks i've dropped off the face of the world, whatever that means. I wonder what the face of the world looks like. do you think it's an actual face? like god's face? and when you've dropped off it, that's when you get to see what god looks like? then you die and there's no heaven and god just laughs at you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you think someone has dropped off the face of the earth wouldn't you CALL them to make sure? my friend didn't. so that's why i laughed when i read her email. I know i didn't get a chance to call her but i doubt very much she just sat around waiting for my call. that would be awsome if someone did that. it would mean they really cared about my incoming call. Besides its not like she hasn't done that to me on more than on occasion...the one time i do it to her and i've dropped off the face of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've dropped off the face of the earth does that mean you like accidentally walked right off? or ...fell? well I guess not a fall because the you fell off the face of the earth. If i've dropped off the face of the earth did someone pick me up and drop me? praps an alien? (praps = perhaps) or maybe a giant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should probably stop with this whole face of the earth thing as i'm sure i'll get in a lot of trouble from my friend who reads this blog. oh and btw bad idea to tell your friends about your blog. i wish i hadn't. they catch you in so many things. and what if you just want to vent. they'll read it and take it personally or some crap like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ever feel like you should be doing something but you just can't figure out what? There's something more but you're too stupid to figure it out? You're sure it's rather obvious but you're dumb and things dont' come easy to you? If so, welcome to my club. I don't knwo what it is. there's something not quite right. I'm not sure if it's my job which i'm not exactly happy at, my living situation which i'm not thrilled about, or what. i just can't get it. i feel like i'm being knocked over the head with it but don't have the right glasses to see it. I should see a psychic. maybe that way i'll finally get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last time i saw a psychic for 10 mins and was told i need to do more painting...more? I don't paint. The only thing i've painted was a mural on my wall. The characters on it were fucking traced on i didn't even draw them. i think i needed more time with the dude. he did say shit about me that he couldn't have known so i was convinced he was the real mcdeal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway, i'm tired, i've drank a lot and just want to sleep. I hope your lives are easier than mine and if they aren't then we should have a drink together!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116892407304214328?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116892407304214328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116892407304214328' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116892407304214328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116892407304214328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/01/dropped-off-face-of-world.html' title='Dropped off the face of the world'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-116848577444158647</id><published>2007-01-10T21:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T22:22:54.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I'm sitting here waiting for my laundry to dry so I can put the next batch in the dryer and go to bed. Lately I've been really tired. I don't know what it is. I don't do anything that would warrent being as tired as I am. I wonder if I have some sort of tired disease. I wouldn't mind that..."I can't come in to work today, I have tired disease."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting here wondering what to write. Nothing really happened today that I want to talk about. It snowed. Now it's starting to feel more like winter. I hate winter drivers. It's retarded how some of them drive. The road could be bone drive, white from the salt and they'd still drive like it was slick with wet snow. I think people should just know that I'm coming and get the hell out of the way. If I ever get my hands on a siren I would totally abuse the power. A quick run to the corner store, flip on the siren. A 7 min drive the the liquor store...flip on the siren. That would be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if my laundry is ready to switch over. I wonder if they've thought of a faster way to do your laundry. Why does it have to take so long? Does anyone else hate doing laundry like i do? I'd rather do laundry than the dishes though. I hate doing the dishes. I wonder what it would be like to fly in a helicopter. I've heard it's kind of scary. I wonder what it's like to fly into a cloud. If I could fly like superman I'd always be in the clouds. Do you think it's cold in a cloud? I bet it's at least moist. If I could fly I'd be an ass and write rude comments on the outside of high rise building windows. I wonder how much those window washers get paid. The ones that have to start on the roof and descend down the side of a building. I bet it gets scary up there sometimes when it gets really windy. That would suck being up there working with water and it being cold. I bet you'd feel like you could never get warm. As I'm writing this Sean has commented on my last post. He's cool. Sounds like he'd be a fun person to know. One thing that's great about blogging is meeting new people. One thing that's shitty is they're usually way too far away that you could ever meet them. And would you want to meet them? For all you know they could be a psycho. I wonder how many psychos you meet in your life and never realize it. I'm not saying Sean is a psycho but I could be wrong I dont know. I wonder what it would be like to know everything. Most likely a boring life. Never learning anything new. I wish I was smart. I wish I was passionate about something. I admire those people who are really passionate about something. It's fun to watch them talk about wha they love. I wonder what it's like to be afraid of a lot of things. I wonder if there's something wrong with me that there really isn't anything i'm afraid of. Bugs don't scare me, small spaces don't scare me, germs don't scare me, I'm not a neat freak, rodents dont' bother me, snakes don't scare me, I'm not really afraid of hurting myself....I'll heal. So many people around me have a lot of fears and I really dont' know what that's like. I kind of feel sorry for them. They waste so much energy worrying and being scared. I used to be afraid of public speaking. I would shake and my voice would waver. One day I just decided that it was stupid to be afraid of that and I wasn't going to waste my energy on worrying and being nervous. Instead I would use that extra energy to make a better speach. It worked. I think I'm going to check on my laundry now. I really hate doing laundry.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116848577444158647?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116848577444158647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116848577444158647' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116848577444158647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116848577444158647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/01/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-116788093953637867</id><published>2007-01-03T21:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T22:22:20.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Quite a Month</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; It hasn't quite been a month since i've updated so it's not that bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new years was ass. what about yours? i had an awful migraine. I almost puked from the pain and worst yet i couldn't even drink. what a shitty year 2006 was. FUCK YOU 2006! 2007 is gonna be better. I know it. 7 is the best number so...it has to be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the last 10 days cat'sitting for a coworker. I almost died and i kicked her cat. i think the cat still hates me and is holding a grudge. I felt bad. it was an accident. but it wasn't my fault she's practically all black and the lightbulb had literally blown up. i'm pretty sure she stepped infront of me. I think she was trying to trip me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after kicking the cat i decided it might be a good idea to change the lightbulb. of course it had to be the light over the damn stairs. thank GOD my friend happened to have a ladder handy. at first i was nervous to fall down the stairs. then when i opened up the light i was nervous of electrocuting myself. the stupid glass of the bulb had somehow separated itself from the metal twisty part. what the hell? how does that even happen? i mean i know when you try to untwist it that can happen but not before...right? quite the dilema...do i risk killing myself changing a lightbulb or risk killing the cat from my immense weight baring down on her. i decided i'd rather die than kill a friend's pet. at least when you're dead...you're dead. but if you kill a friend's animal you have to actually live with that. could you imagine her coming back from her trip to me telling her i stepped on her cat and killed it? how awful. i'll admit a bit commical but still horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well anyway i changed it without killing myself. i was able to use a pair of pliers to get the metal twisty part out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i quite enjoyed living on my own. it was nice. no one telling me what to do. not having to be considerate of other people. pretty nice. bittersweet really. on one hand i'm saving shit loads of money living at home with my parents, on the other hand i yearn for something different. what's a girl to do? i'm not complaining. the chick i work with lives alone and it sounds fucked up how expensive it is. i'd rather save right now and make sure i don't have to have any roomates. i've had very bad experiences with that and i vowed never again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave you all with this question i asked the chick i work with today which she couldn't really answer so hopefully you can:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At which point does afternoon turn into evening? I mean to say, when do you stop saying good afternoon and start saying good evening? She said "when it's dark it's evening" but that would be at different times because in the summer it gets dark much later. so do you agree or have a different answer?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116788093953637867?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116788093953637867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116788093953637867' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116788093953637867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116788093953637867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2007/01/not-quite-month.html' title='Not Quite a Month'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-116537104533265584</id><published>2006-12-05T20:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T21:10:54.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Something</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Something's up with me.I dont know what it is. I feel...antsy, restless...not right. I feel like i want a change. but i don't know what that would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked someone at work if she was thinking of moving out of her parent's house and we should find a place together. WTF? i can't believe i did that. But then i started thinking how awsome that would be and the fun we'd have. I'm too poor to live on my own as of yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this all has to do with the fact that i cashed my inheritance cheque. I wasn't right for a few days before and after...maybe i'm still not right. it feels like blood money. someone had to die for me to get that money. it's not right. i miss my grandma. i would gladly stay in debt to have her back. the really weird thing is the teller who cashed the cheque at the bank looked so much like my grandma. i'm not normally one of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;those&lt;/span&gt; people who look for "signs" or stupid shit like that. but she really did resemble her. she was fatter than my grandma and had red hair (my grandma had blondeish white hair) but her facial features, and her fingernails and even how she looked at me reminded me so much of her. it was a weird experience. i wanted to get away from there as fast as i could but at the same time i didn't want to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my school debt has been erased like it never happened with some money left over as well. it could be considered the "silver lining" but not from where i'm sitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe that coupled with hearing my parents talking about moving made me ask my work friend if she wanted to get a place with me. maybe that and the fact that i have such a strong urge to create my own space OTHER than a fucking bedroom in my current living situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate my bedroom right now. I decided I'm going to paint it blue. I have a half finished mural on one of my walls and i haven't decided if i'm going to paint over it. but i'm definitely changing the wall color. i need a change. and i'm definitely going to get on refinishing my fucking bed which i got fabric for, for my BIRTHDAY which is coming up to almost A YEAR AGO. I'm so sick of sleeping on a matress on top of a box spring. I think i'm going to get some new sheets. really expensive ones. and i think i'm going to get janice to make me a new duvet cover with really expensive fabric. where is a good place to get nice sheets. i'm talking really soft you dont' want to get out of bed because it feels so good kind of fabric. i saw some ones i wanted to get from overstock.com but then found out they dont' deliver to canada, FUCKERS! I wish i had a friend in the US who i could just use as a mailing address so they could send me shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First i'll focus on getting the blue penguin set up so i can have friends over and not have to all cram in the current tv room WITH my parents sitting right there. that will be really nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to ikea this weekend. i need something for my room. some sort of unit for my tv and some storage. i also need some book shelves. i'm so sick of things looking messy and not organized. i need the book shelves for all my empty bottles i use for glass work and all my movies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just need......something. i don't know what it is, i don't know how i'm going to figure it out, i just know that a day will come when it all makes sense and everything will come together. i hate those people who say well make it happen. how do you make something happen when you have no idea what you need or want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i'm one of those people who never knows what they want or where they want to be. if you asked me where i saw myself in 3 years, i'd say i have no clue. I recently had to write a job description for myself outlining my goals and what i want to do. i had no clue what to write. i didn't know what i wanted to do. i knew what i did NOT want to do which is all fine and great but you need to be able to suggest alternatives. it was hard. i threw something together, i'm not even sure if i like what i threw together. maybe i'm just indecisive. not quite good enough at any particular thing that's good for a career. i also really hate those people who know what they want to do with the rest of their life. why does it get to be so easy for them? what did i do in a past life that i have such a confusing life this time around?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't even decide if i want to delete this post or not&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116537104533265584?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116537104533265584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116537104533265584' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116537104533265584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116537104533265584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/12/something.html' title='Something'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-116516520800836265</id><published>2006-12-03T11:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T12:00:37.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Aw so nice someone cares to ask if i'm ok!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fine, I just got over a hellish 2 week cold or flu or whatever the hell it was. I even had to get anti-biotics for it. I never go to the doctor but this time I was forced to as it started to get way worse. There's still something wrong with my ear and it's not getting better so I might have to go back again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it with doctor's offices. I waited 30 mins to see the doctor. when i saw her she took 5 mins to listen to my chest, look in my ear and throat and tell me stuffs looks a little too red and here's some pills. i was waiting in the fucking waiting room longer than she saw me for. that pisses me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a website that has some of my tv shows that i watch, and some that I want to watch. it's awsome! all the shows are WITHOUT commercials. and you can watch a whole season at once if you want. pretty sweet! &lt;a href="http://www.tv-links.co.uk/"&gt;http://www.tv-links.co.uk/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have a virus on this computer. it's really pissing me off and i can't find the anti-virus software on here. I don't even know if we have any. I'm sure we do but I have no idea where it is. it's a really fucking annoying virus. it keeps making limewire open up. weird. and then webpages keep opening as well. so annoying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway i have a lot of other blog pages to catch up on so until we meet again...&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116516520800836265?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116516520800836265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116516520800836265' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116516520800836265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116516520800836265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m Still Here'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-116227025697820006</id><published>2006-10-30T21:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T23:50:57.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>friendship</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Friendship is hard. this i have learned. I don't have a lot of friends, this is by choice. I know a lot of people say this. but its actually true with me. I don't have a lot of friends because in actuallity i hate people. i couldn't handle a lot of friends. I'm not one of those people who has a ton of friends but no really "good" friends. i don't know how those people can do it. ...to never really know someone really well...how can you trust them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trust is a big thing with me...i still don't tell my best friend of 10+ years EVERYTHING, i feel bad about that, but its just the way i am. i have a hard time with it. i'm sure it would be different if we were talking everyday but we're not.if u don't ask me stuff i won't tell you...most times i'm pretty honest unless its something extremely personal in which case i might lie. if you're my best friend you'd probably know if i was lying in which case you'd call me on it. its not easy to be my best friend....ask my best friend. I'm sure she wishes she wasn't my best friend in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to tell you the truth i'm really clueless as to why anyone calls myself their friend. that's the honest truth. it really makes no sense to me. i'm mean, sometimes rude, blunt, competitive...blah blah blah could go on but i'm too lazy to. i don't get it. i guess it's their own fault if they get hurt. i seriously warn people before they truly decide to be my friend. my friendship comes with a disclaimer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well anyway what the fuck was this post about anyway? my best friend and i, that's what.  its kind of weird with us right now. we fight a lot. but only through msn and email. go figure, the two forms of communication that don't include human to human interaction. we fight in person too. it usually involves hitting each other. it starts with her hitting me. me letting her get away with a couple of hits until one really hurts then me trying to get her back and her PLEADING with me to not get her back because she knows i'm WAY stronger than she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think that some poeople think we're lesbians or something. we fight like we're a couple. its kind of weird. but it is what it is. i don't mind. in fact its kind of funny to see people's reactions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a lot to drink and i'm not quite sure what my point was. something about friendship and how much i love my best friend but we have a weird relationship. i'm pretty sure that's what i was tyring to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go to bed now, the alcohol has reached my eye lids and from there its a downhill battle. to sean i will say i'm sorry, i missed heros tonight. i will try to download it though. I watched it last week and it was awsome!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116227025697820006?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116227025697820006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116227025697820006' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116227025697820006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116227025697820006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/10/friendship.html' title='friendship'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-116173303846175944</id><published>2006-10-24T18:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T19:00:34.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>HELP</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I need help. I need help naming a drink I came up with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always name everything and this needs a name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It contains:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gingerale&lt;br /&gt;Raspberry Vodka&lt;br /&gt;Raspberry Sour Puss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Color: depending on how much sour puss you put in, a magenta kinda color cuz i'm against pink so i make sure its more reddish than pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't taste sour...MAYBE a bit tart but not even. I'd give you measurements but i don't ever measure drinks i make. i just pour and it tastes good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like names that are funny and make a TAD bit of sense but not really. I just can't think of a good name for this drink. I already have one that i made up called fuzzy apple so i coudn't call it fuzzy raspberry or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so again HELP! or as i prefer to say PLEH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********************************************&lt;br /&gt;Fucking children's organizations. First i had to buy fucking girl guides cookies TWO fucking boxes. and now the godamed boy scouts come around and i have to buy some chocolate thing for fucking $20 what a rip. they should make shit cheaper i mean those poor kids have to go door to door and the cheapest thing on their list is $15? that's real nice!&lt;/H4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116173303846175944?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116173303846175944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116173303846175944' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116173303846175944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116173303846175944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/10/help.html' title='HELP'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-116165658983968204</id><published>2006-10-23T20:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T21:23:09.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing Really</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I don't really have anything to say at all. My weekend was average. I highlighted Janice's hair for her. In the process I ruined a shirt. I don't even know how I got dye on my shirt but I did. I might just dye the whole thing now so I can still wear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much all I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I spent half the day working on a project i worked on all last week and what did i find out? OH WE'RE NOT DOING IT THAT WAY ANYMORE SO DON'T BOTHER FINISHING...fuck. wtf? i'm still pissed. i spent so fucking long on that fucking shit and for what? nothing. I could have sat at home all week. would have been the same thing. fuckers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because of that project i got behind in my other shit. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh something good that happened at work...so our graphics guy is designing an ad for a tradeshow we're going to. New Chick and I just about pissed our pants laughing at it when we saw it. TOTALLY funny! we decided we're getting it made into shirts and wearing them to work on the same day to piss off our boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a problem with the design cuz there were naked people in it. but all their bits were covered in clever little ways so it was all good which was part of the reason why we LOVED it. i can't wait i love it. we're waiting to hear back from this shirt store to see how much it will cost. Probably like $30 or more. rather pricy but i really want the shirt so i don't mind...THIS TIME! Once we get it done i'll put up pics so you can see. its really awsome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have nothing to say tonight. sorry!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116165658983968204?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116165658983968204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116165658983968204' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116165658983968204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116165658983968204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/10/nothing-really.html' title='Nothing Really'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-116044444558359077</id><published>2006-10-09T20:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T20:41:01.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>PYJAMA PANTS</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I could be writing about my long weekend, I could be writing about about an extremely valuable lesson I learned this weekend (under no circumstances should you EVER stay up until 5:30am drinking, the night before you're planning on going to a fair with rides) but instead I'm going to write about my pyjama pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found them. It took me awhile to realize they were even missing. but one day i was like hey where are those pyjama pants. I cleaned my room to find them in hopes they were thrown in some corner, but alas they were not. I looked high and low (even behind the dryer) in the laundry room but alas they were not there. where did i find them you ask? in my parents fucking CLOSET. assholes. someone stole them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lucky for them they're both in british columbia or some heads would be rolling at the moment. I take my pyjamas VERY seriously. if i had my way i would wear nothing but pyjamas. I'm wearing them right now. I really love them. In fact i think i want some new ones too. I havn't had new pyjamas in ever. I want silk pyjamas, or satin...no actually i want BOTH. People say, "oh they'll wrinkle" no shit who fucking cares you just sleep in them...its not like i need wrinkle'less pyjamas to go to work in...HELLO? who fucking cares if your pyjamas wrinkle easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all you people out there can FINALLY rest easy knowing i AT LAST found my pyjama pants.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-116044444558359077?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/116044444558359077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=116044444558359077' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116044444558359077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/116044444558359077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/10/pyjama-pants.html' title='PYJAMA PANTS'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115968166169458853</id><published>2006-10-01T00:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T00:47:41.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fried Green Tomatos</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I hadn't seen this movie in a rather long time. But I just watched the whole thing. It made me jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tale of life...and death and everything that happens in between. More importantly it's a story about two friends, best friends. I envy the bond they had with each other. I couldn't imagine being that close with someone. You could say they were like sisters but really they were closer than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact I've never seen sisters who were ever that close, either tolerated each other or were fighting. No these two people were content just to be with each other in a totally non sexual way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to see. You don't really see that very often these days. We always keep people a certain distance away don't we? I want that for myself. I think one day I'll have it. That kind of friendship that lasts forever, through the years growing together and with each other. The friend that is always next door or down the street. of course the other thing that always fucks it up is someone ends up moving. I've learned that I don't do so well with long distance friendships. I need that constant appearance. Which sucks because it's always inevitable that someone will move. Nowadays people don't stick around in one spot for very long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not interested in having a ton of friends. I'm more interested in people who will stick around for years to come. That old saying its not quantity it's quality...besides I don't' really like people that much so I could never have a lot of friends anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I'm saying. It's just nice when there's a movie these days that actually moves you and invokes an emotional response. Surprise surprise this movie was based on a novel. It would be amazing to have a friendship like the one in this movie, but who knows maybe that's all it is...fiction. Whether it is or isn't I highly recommend this movie if you haven't seen it. And if you have seen it I recommend you watch it again. It's not like its a new movie, I forget what year it came out and I'm too lazy to IMDB it but Jessica Tandy was in it so obviously it was made when she was alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there was a chick who knew how to pick her movies. I've never seen a movie with her in it that I didn't like. Interesting how you find certain actors who never disappoint. I was going to say that about Kathy Bates as well..but then she had to do that movie "About Schmitt". Ok movie until we got to see her ENTIRELY FUCKING NAKED. Kathy I like you but i do NOT need to see you fucking naked. That was nasty. Don't get me wrong I admire her courage but still....GROSS. i don't even like to see myself naked and avoid it at all costs which is rather hard since i have a wall made almost entirely of mirror in my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does a fried green tomato taste like anyway?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115968166169458853?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115968166169458853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115968166169458853' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115968166169458853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115968166169458853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/10/fried-green-tomatos.html' title='Fried Green Tomatos'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115962843417835174</id><published>2006-09-30T09:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T10:00:34.243-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone??!?!!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I just found out i'm going to be alone for thanksgiving this year (next weekend). That's great now i have to make my OWN meal for myself. I haven't decided if I'm going to let anyone know about this. It might be nice to be alone. I don't know. I was thinking of renting a shit load of movies and just watching movies all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure if certain people knew this i'd be invited over for dinner but I don't want a pity invite. "oh you're alone? well you can come over to our dinner". you know the kind where they only invite you because you're alone? My brother doesn't live at home he's moved away for school. so he won't be coming home unless he can figure out how to on a bus and i don't know how to get to wherever he lives so...he's not coming home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most i've had the house to myself was a week or a few days so this will be awsome to have it all to myself. i'm looking forward to it.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115962843417835174?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115962843417835174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115962843417835174' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115962843417835174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115962843417835174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/09/alone.html' title='Alone??!?!!?!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115940674276794647</id><published>2006-09-27T20:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T20:25:42.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fucking Weather</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; I was halfway through my post when the stupid weather decided to make the power go out. extremely annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found a new cure for cramps, my previous one being a bottle of wine. this new one is called percocet. mmmmmm quite nice. works well. i recommend it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the past three days i've had this pain in my shoulder. it really hurts and is really annoying. i think its from stress. work is pretty bad right now. i don't really want to talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stress is weird. i've been stressed before but this is different. it really makes you tired. i can barely last a whole working day now. it just exhausts me. I should probably talk about it but the thought of it all makes me so tired. i feel like i'm shutting down. people ask me how i am but i just say fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its to the point where someone would literally have to make me talk. but i don't know i dont' think that would work i wouldn't even know where to begin. its evolved into this feeling and not so much a situation. i'm not even making sense. what the hell am i talking about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should go. i have dishes to do. its pouring rain...the so hard that i turned up the tv cuz it was really loud. I'll have to put the garbage out. isn't that great? i foresee a soaking in my future.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115940674276794647?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115940674276794647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115940674276794647' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115940674276794647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115940674276794647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/09/fucking-weather_27.html' title='Fucking Weather'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-115912744654171900</id><published>2006-09-24T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-24T14:50:46.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aunt Flow</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Nothing like a few crippling cramps to bring the plans you had for your day to a screeching halt. Aunt flow decided to come for a visit today. I hate her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's ok I guess. There a few new movies I'd like to catch up on so ... fine I guess but still disapointing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad bought a $160 fish for $30 yesterday. Sweet deal if it was a pair of jeans instead of some animal that will likely DIE. why didn't he just GIVE me the money? I wouldn't have complained. The fish's saving grace with me is that it's supposed to turn this wicked cool color of blue. we'll see though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother is moving out, that will be nice. More chances of me having the house to myself. Now I just have to work on getting my parents to stop being shut ins and getting the fuck out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck, i have to go lay die, i'm in too much pain.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115912744654171900?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115912744654171900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115912744654171900' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115912744654171900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115912744654171900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/09/aunt-flow.html' title='Aunt Flow'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115853425782891147</id><published>2006-09-17T17:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-17T18:04:18.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blue Penguin</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I am happy to report the blue pengin is on its way. What is the blue penguin you ask? well i'll tell you. The blue penguin is my parents' basement. I live there. I have decided I'm going to clean it up and make it like an actual apartment down there. I'm sick of having no where to entertain friends if i should happen to once in a blue moon have one over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend and i ALWAYS name things so i decided it needed a name. before that stupid sad ass movie "march of the penguins" came out i totally wanted a penguin so that's where the penguin part comes from. and blue is my fav color so naturally it fits. plus i wanted a name for it that made no sense which it really doesn't so THERE.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I even have a logo for the blue penguin. i stole the linux penguin and made it blue. i have an awsome one of the penguin lying on some floating thing with a drink in its hand. SCORE! it really doesn't get better than that! After i have the blue penguin set up KT and i are going to go out and steal letters from those signs people have to spell out "the blue penguin" i even have the perfect spot to hang them in the basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really looking forward to getting this done. today i spent most of my time organizing my shit that was dumped there. My parents seem to think that most of the crap piled up is mine...well i'm here to tell you it fucking isn't. i'm going to get ALL my shit out of there and say YO GET YOUR FUCKING SHIT OUT OF THERE I WANT TO TURN THIS SPACE INTO SOMETHING USABLE BITCHIS! ( i meant to spell bitchis with an 'i'". quite a lot of the crap dumped there is theirs NOT mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......so i just informed my parent they should start thinking about doing something with all their shit they dumped in the basement. i got a head shake from my mother which means something like she doesn't believe me, or what a bitch or something like that. that annoyed me but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the fatal rookie mistake when concockting a drink for myself this evening. i poured the alcohol into the glass before checking to see if there was mix. i thought there was but some person in this household finished it off so i was left with raspberry vodka and raspberry sourpuss in a glass with no mix. what was i to do? why improvise of course. i poured orange juice into it. not bad but i would have prefered my usual 7-up/sprite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at 3pm today i injected raspberry vodka into an orange by way of a syringe left over from my dog almost dying. of course i sterilyzed it to get rid of the valium first. right now its 6:45 and i think i might wait to eat it after dinner as a desert. i hope its good. i don't know if i did the injecting right. i injected it all over the orange. should i have done it in the same hole everytime? i dont know we'll see. I've also done the whole watermelon and vodka thing as well. it was awsome. i highly recommend it for a summer bbq. what you do is get a seedless watermelon and cut a hole in it for the bottle opening of your alcohol. i used raspberry vodka and it was divine. but i'd also like to try other flavors. so you cut a hole in the top so you can insert the bottle. i suggest half a micky to start so there's no spilling. pour half the mickey out and save it for later. what you do is flip the bottle ever so carefull so as not to spill and insert it into the hole. you leave the bottle for however long it takes for the vodka to soak into the watermelon. at least 3 hours! so don't sit there waiting for it all to pour into the watermelon. then depending on the size of the watermelon you can use the rest. if you want to get wasted i suggest you eat the watermelon that was closest to the hole. that stuff is wicked potent. i didn't like it because it was too strong. but we all have different tastes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that whole episode with my dog has costed me around $660. OUCH. not cool but she's alive so its worth it. next time a get a dog i will put away every paycheck $20.00 for such emergencies. this is the first time i've had one with her and she's 10 years old so assuming i'm being paid bi-weekly for 10 years that would be $4800...um is my math right that's a fucking crazy amount of money. well whatever i've been drinking and can't be held accountable for my mathing. but still if i would have done that from the beginning (which i coudlnt' because i was 12 when i got her) it wouldn't sting so much. but next time. and i'm totally telling anyone this bit of advice if they're thinking about getting a dog. which reminds me i need to research dogs that don't shed which are medium sized for mildred. that should be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok i'm tired of typing and i need to flip through my dog books so i'm gonna go now.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115853425782891147?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115853425782891147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115853425782891147' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115853425782891147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115853425782891147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/09/blue-penguin.html' title='The Blue Penguin'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-115811000982900918</id><published>2006-09-12T20:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T20:13:29.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bruise</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I got a bruise on my thigh on my baseball saturday. its pretty damn sweet. every day it looks cooler and cooler. i love bruises and scars and cuts. i think you're a pretty boring person if you don't even have a scar. scars are cool i love hearing how people got them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how did i get my bruise you ask? well i'll tell you. i was on second base and the ball was hit to first base. i of course ran off my base a bit waiting to see if they'd throw it. low and behold they did. right fuckin at me. it nailed me in the leg. fuck it hurt. ever get hit with a softball? don't let the name fool you they're not that soft at all. needless to say i was safe on third base so it was all good and worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;........................ya that would be cool if that was how i got the bruise, but alas it is not. in between games i rammed my leg hard into the corner of a picnic table. seriously killed. it was so painful i had to stop walking even cuz it hurt so bad. whatever though i got a sweet fucking bruise that changes colors everyday. my multicolored bruise kicks ASS! the center is the deep red color with purple on the outside of it. i'm sure it will turn that wicked green and yellow color soon. i should take a daily picture to map the progression of the multicolorness that is my bruise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you were enthralled with the information about my bruise, in fact i think i might name my bruise jack, as in you don't know jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i must go to yet another baseball game we shall horribly lose...who knows i might get another bruise!!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115811000982900918?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115811000982900918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115811000982900918' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115811000982900918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115811000982900918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-bruise.html' title='My Bruise'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-115802686299712970</id><published>2006-09-11T20:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T21:18:50.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;What's the attraction to having a spider or two as a pet? I don't really get it. What fun is it? Is is the same kind of thing as having a glass box full of fish? No, I imagine not. Fish are at least a bit more interesting i mean they're ALWAYS moving, you can watch them swim around the tank, eat food, swim some more and so on. what does a spider do? it just sits there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway...this weekend was extremely busy! Friday night my soccer team was playing their arch nemesis at 6:30. We sucked and lost, the game was over at 8:15. I had to jet from that game to a friend's house to catch a ride to my slo-pitch game which started at 9pm. we sucked and lost and i was in bed by 12:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On saturday i was up at 8am to catch another ride back to play the other two tournament slo-pitch games, the first of which to start at 10:15am. we sucked and lost and had an hour and half to drink our loss away. at which point we all decided it would be a great idea to paint our faces. the first one to do it was my friend who got some weird demented looking monkey on her cheek. she then forced me to get something and i decided on the words grand slam. I figured if i wrote them maybe it would come true. it didn't. everyone followed with some sort of sexual inuendo on their faces. we tried to get the foreign guy to get "insert balls here" and arrows pointing to his mouth...he didn't. his nickname is tornado ricky because at the last tournament when our two company teams played each other he took out my friend mildrid on second base. totally plowed her over. he told the face painting chick he wanted tornado written on his face. the face painting chick didn't know how to spell tornado and the tornado didn't know how to spell it..he's foreign so she drew these retarded lines on his face supposedly representing wind? i don't know but it was so lame it was funny. face painting chick was in her twentys...nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our second game was better. we actually mercied the team one inning. usually its us always mercied. but in the end we sucked and lost. mildred and i left the feild behind us for greener pastures, home sense and winners. i picked up my mom an xmas gift so it was a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was the final championship game for the soccer team i coach. they sucked and lost. mind you they didn't suck as hard core as they usually do so i was proud of them. after all it was against our arch nemesis which happened to be the stacked hand picked team. our team is the left overs the other coach didn't want. we did pretty awsome considering they were thought to be shitty players. fucker. i hate that coach i mean honestly these kids are fucking under 12. what the hell? the funny thing is our team was the ones celebrating after our....LOSS! the other team just kinda cheered high fived each other and that was it. we were running all over the feild and dancing around to music we brought. pretty sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we went back to janice's house and drank and partied. great day indeedly. my weekend was action packed, how about yours?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115802686299712970?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115802686299712970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115802686299712970' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115802686299712970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115802686299712970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/09/weekend.html' title='The Weekend'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115715019298536654</id><published>2006-09-01T17:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T17:36:33.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I actually have an ounce of energy so i decided I would update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past 3 days I have had MAYBE 20 hours of sleep. My dog is sick and i thought we'd have to put her down. so scary. SERIOUSLY scary. I can't handle all this crappy crap right now. she seems to be doing better now but i'm still worried. i bet having kids is like this but 10 times worse, i'm thinking i might want to rethink the whole kids thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been hanging out with janice and her kids a lot. its awsome to be loved by kids but not be responsible for them. how much better could it get? you get to go home and you're not surrounded by kids if you don't want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plans for this long weekend are to SLEEP. oh and fucking carpet clean my room since it stinks like godamed piss from my sick dog. oh well better that than her being dead i always say!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok i have to go i'm falling asleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115715019298536654?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115715019298536654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115715019298536654' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115715019298536654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115715019298536654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/09/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m Still Here'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115526208706217173</id><published>2006-08-10T21:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T21:08:07.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I think i'm going to buy a BB gun so the next time someone says "cheer up" I CAN SHOOT THEM IN THEIR STUPID MOUTH!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115526208706217173?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115526208706217173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115526208706217173' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115526208706217173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115526208706217173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-think-im-going-to-buy-bb-gun-so-next.html' title=''/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115450737443523999</id><published>2006-08-02T03:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T03:37:35.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Smoking</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I decided I'm totally against smoking. After the day i've gone through...it was the last straw. before i was indifferent. it wasn't something i'd do, i always thought it was stupid and repulsive but i was never really against it. people could do whatever they wanted with their bodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now i've had enough. smoking is so fucked up i don't even think people realize how fucked it is. and the hilarious thing about smoking is that smokers have the dumbest reasons as to why they started in the first place. like at least have some good story about why you're addicted to something where you'll eventually either die a painful demoralizing death or survive the worst thing you'll ever go through...honestly!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i had to clean up 10 years of 3 packs a day nicotene stains from all surfaces of my grandmas appartment. NOT COOL! it totally sickened me! it made me so happy i wasn't a moron and started smoking. if you're a smoker i don't even care if this offends you because it should. STOP SMOKING. i've had to watch a close friend go through cancer from smoking a large part of her life away. it was so awful. the radiation alone is enough to make you turn away from your loved one. people who go through that have to be really strong individuals. and then my grandma getting lung cancer and then brain cancer. in the end she couldn't move her legs cuz of the cancer in her brain and she had the mentality of a child. wtf kind of way is that to die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok so set aside how horrible a death smoking gives you. since that never seems to work with smokers. i don't think they get how bad it really is. so set that aside, its almost as bad for your loved ones to have to WATCH YOU GO THROUGH THAT. i don't think anyone ever thinks of that. they just think oh its my life blah blah blah, but seriously do you expect your family and friends to just not be around and care that you're fucking cancer ridden from smoking? its really harsh and self centered to think that. and you know most smokers are like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well let me tell you first hand its not a nice feeling to have to sit there and watch someone you love go through such a terrific amount of pain which essentially they brought on themselves. sure you can get cancer when you don't smoke but lets face it most people get it from smoking. its just so awful. and really they're addicted to the habit...not the nicotene since it leaves your body so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;smoking is such a sad thing. i'm done i can't deal with it anymore. i won't tolerate it around me either. janice smokes so that will be interesting. i feel bad for people who have parents who smoke. that must suck. if that was me i'd be worried all the damn time about cancer. you don't have to be old to get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and i almost forgot. what the hell do you think that smoke does to pets? i've also seen how awful it is for the pets who get the cancer too. but people just kill their pets yet they put themselves through the radiation and kemo...interesting people won't put their pets through the horror of cancer treatment but they'll do it themselves. poor animals could have most likely lived longer but their bastard owners had to be selfish and put them through a life of tainted breathing air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ya i'm bitter and this is a bitter rant but i don't care no one really reads this blog anyway so anyone who doesn't like it can fuck off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but alas no amount of words anyone says can make a smoker quit they must decide to do so on their own...&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115450737443523999?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115450737443523999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115450737443523999' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115450737443523999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115450737443523999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/08/smoking.html' title='Smoking'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115418237878555095</id><published>2006-07-29T08:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T09:35:52.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilt</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Guilt is a crazy powerful emotion/feeling/whatever it is! It keeps you up at night, it makes you cry, it consumes that majority of your thoughts. I never really knew what feeling guilty actually felt like until recently. Oh sure in the short time known as my existance i've felt guilty about one thing or another. But when you think back on it those instances were really quite insignificant compared to what I'm feeling now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty much going to do anything at all costs to avoid new guilt. more than one guilty thought is just way too much to handle. and another thing, guilt is such a hard thing to get over. you feel so awful about something how do you let it go? people may try to explain it away and yes it does sound quite logical and they might have some very good reasons why you shouldn't feel guilty but that never helps does it? nope not at all. so take it from me AVOID GUILT AT ALL COSTS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a not so crappy note i've decided that i don't think old people are packrats. care for an explanation? ok well recently my father came home from bc and he brought me about 10 crochet needles and some of that yarn stuff that my grandma had in her appartment (the one who died). first off i dont' remember her EVER crocheting and she not once mentioned it to me. second, i will never need these needles i have no urge to crochet and i probably NEVER will until i myself become board and look for things to occupy my time. but for the life of me i can't bring myself to just chuck them or give them away...its something of my grandmas. so i will keep them stowed away unused for the simple fact that they were hers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to my point, i think old people are like that. they keep crap that to you makes no sense and you say why don't you just get rid of that. but to them it means something. could bring back memories, could be from someone dear to them that died. You don't know but to them its important. and since they're old they've had the chance to come in contact with quite a few people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course some of them are a bit of a packrat but i think that's the generation that had to deal with the depression and hard times. they save things that you and i would throw out because that was their mentality and how they grew up. and we all know its hard to give up a thought process for a new one. I don't know maybe i'm wrong its just a theory of mine. and besides even if i'm wrong, isn't it one of the funnest things looking in all the nooks and crannies of an old person's home? you never know what gem you're going to find!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in bc right now and won't be back until the following saturday. i'm visiting my last remaining grandparent. i think that wherever i go i bring bad weather. just before i got here there was a heat wave and it was so nice...today as i've woken up its overcast and looks as though its going to rain. last time i was here it was nice before i was here and then when i came it fucking rained practically the whole time. what the shit is that?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115418237878555095?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115418237878555095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115418237878555095' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115418237878555095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115418237878555095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/07/guilt.html' title='Guilt'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-115353477926993318</id><published>2006-07-21T21:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T21:22:56.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h3&gt; I'M PISSED OFF BECAUSE I DIDN'T GO TO JANICE'S AND I DIDN'T GET FUCKING DRUNK&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1&gt; I'M PISSED OFF&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115353477926993318?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115353477926993318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115353477926993318' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115353477926993318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115353477926993318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-pissed-off-because-i-didnt-go-to.html' title=''/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-115352113253314457</id><published>2006-07-21T17:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T17:32:33.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ONE HUNDRED!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;THIS IS MY 100TH POST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like it should be about something special...but alas not much special about me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in such a bad mood, everything was pissing me off. People talking around me were too loud when i was trying to look like i was working when i really wasn't. i couldn't even concentrate on reading my marketing articles. so that really pissed me off. New Chick's stupid questions pissed me off. I was pissed off cuz i was bored and had nothing to do. I was pissed off because they're hiring new people and yet again I'm still stuck at the bottom of corporate ladder. I was pissed off because i feel like there's no room for me to move up at this company. i was pissed off because if there's no where for me to move up wtf am i fucking doing at this company? I was pissed off because i couldn't find what i was looking for. i was pissed of because my friend and i can't seem to have a conversation without having some sort of fight. i was pissed of because on my way home from work some fucker cut me off and i could have been KILLED. fucker. FUCKING FUCKER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so that was my pissed off day in a nutshell. i'm fucking glad its the godamed weekend that's for sure. I'm going to go up to janice's house and get drunk!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115352113253314457?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115352113253314457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115352113253314457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115352113253314457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115352113253314457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/07/one-hundred.html' title='ONE HUNDRED!!!!!!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-115335139004270053</id><published>2006-07-19T18:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T18:23:10.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I have to what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; I'm going to a party on saturday where i was told that i need to write some sort of thing about how this birthday person has effected my life or a funny story or something. fucking ghey. i don't know what to say. i tried to write something today at work when i was bored out of my mind and it sucked. sucked hard core. i'll tell you this, i hope to hell that no one EVER EVER EVER asks me to do a speach or something like that cuz it will be the lamest fucking thing ever. i don't like giving speaches anyway. they're always so boring and so am i so that's not the greatest combination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meh i'm looking forward to it since there will be awsome food!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my god i really have nothing to say...at all...how was your day?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115335139004270053?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115335139004270053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115335139004270053' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115335139004270053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115335139004270053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-have-to-what.html' title='I have to what?'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115307081295910800</id><published>2006-07-16T12:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T12:26:52.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks All</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; Thank you all for your kind words!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found out the hard way that you should &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt; dry shave your legs. I did that yesterday and it was not cool. My legs hurt so fucking much. I don't get it, I've dry shaved before and it never hurt this much. fucking weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished reading Angels and Demons, its was a great book. So full of action. I definitely recommend this book. I'm glad i've gotten back into reading. i used to all the time but then once in college i just did so much reading i couldn't handle anything extra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't quite understand the whole book on tape thing or online. There's something about turning the pages of a book that you really can't replace. And the smell of a brand new book, you can't get that from a tape...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got burnt yesterday, not badly but still i can feel the burning. I think its weird that burnt shoulders makes you feel cold. anytime i get burnt it always makes me shiver. does that happen to you or am i just a freak with weird skin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of janice's kids called me a sexual predator because i kept jerseying her. i was in shock, i was like what did you just call me? and she repeated it. WTF? i said janice wtf is wrong with your kids matilda just called me a sexual predator. janice said to her, do you know what that is? and she stuttered and didn't know what to say. then she said it was someone who took people's clothes off. Janice said "I'll tell you what it is later"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was matilda's birthday yesterday. she took in an amazing haul. the cost of presents has definitely gone up since my day of birthday parties. $20.00 was the absolute most people would pay. but holy SHIT the crap she got was crazy. I felt bad, i gave her two where's waldo books and a cooking book. it was the last thing she opened and you know what? it was the only thing she wanted to play with right away AND her and her friends were fighting over it. HAHAHHAHAHA after getting tons of fucking toys it was books she was crazy about. HOLLA TO THE BOOKS THEY STILL PREVAIL!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115307081295910800?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115307081295910800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115307081295910800' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115307081295910800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115307081295910800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/07/thanks-all.html' title='Thanks All'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115265619657431970</id><published>2006-07-11T17:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T17:16:36.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Up With Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;A week ago on Thursday my grandma died. My favorite one. I know you shouldn’t have favorites but everyone does and if they say differently they’re lying! I also found out at the same time that my other grandma is at the hospital in critical condition. They say things come in threes so I’m waiting for more bad news. I called my friend crying I think that night. I don’t cry. She must have been really concerned since I never do that. It was good that I was able to talk to her though and just have someone to talk to.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on Friday when I got to work I had an email from another friend asking if we were going to hang out. I thought about it and decided I just wanted to be alone. But when she found out about my grandma I had no choice in the matter. She and I were to hang out, watch movies, and have a “sleepover”.  I didn’t really want to but you can’t argue with her. And now I’m extremely glad she did that. It really helped to have someone to talk to and just keep my mind occupied instead of sitting around thinking about my grandma. She really knows me well. It’s nice to have friends who know you sometimes better than you know yourself. She’d better since we’ve been friends since the summer of grade 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note I recently realized I have a nickname.  My name isn’t one that a nickname is easily made from but I just realized someone at work was calling me a nickname. I never even noticed until now. So now I can say I actually have a nickname. And Sissy that one you call me doesn’t count since we were sitting around talking about it and you just started calling me that name because I said I didn’t like it. SO THERE! My best friend doesn’t even have a nickname for me lol so it’s funny. And I find it funny that I just noticed because this chick has been calling me this for a long time now. I think its because its so close to my actual name that I never really paid that much attention. And no i'm not going to tell you what it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I feel extremely tired and worn out. Maybe I shouldn't have gone to work today, who knows. &lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115265619657431970?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115265619657431970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115265619657431970' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115265619657431970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115265619657431970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/07/whats-up-with-me.html' title='What&apos;s Up With Me'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115197586566828980</id><published>2006-07-03T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T20:17:46.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I am so sorry i really hate it when people don't post at least 3 times a week. I get so bored at work i NEED those posts to keep me sane! This is the first time i've had more than 5 minutes on the computer in that last i don't know how long to be able to post. my brother is always on this computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a very nice weekend indeedly! Saturday my bestest came over and we had a party with fireworks and swimming and of course drinking. it was great and nice to hang with her again. its been a very long ass time! there was nudity, laughs and drinking, a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday i went to a bonfire which sucked monkey dick hardcore until my friend's friends got the fuck out of there and we could talk. they were annoying as FUCK and i dont get why she likes the one guy in the group he's such a fucking asshole FUCK. she's moving and it was our "one last fire". its going to be so weird her not living there anymore. she's lived there ever since i've known her...10 years or so. it will be weirder for her since she's literally lived there her whole life. so sad, i'm going to miss that place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today we decided to go out to belfountain and see what it looked like in the daylight. last time we were there we went at night its really nice there. a nice little town. we decided we would totally live there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not looking forward to going to work tomorrow. my boss will be away all week and all i have to look forward to is being bored as FUCK since she won't be there to give me shit to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well i really don't have much to say...how was your long weekend?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115197586566828980?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115197586566828980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115197586566828980' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115197586566828980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115197586566828980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/07/sorry.html' title='Sorry'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115076077593924701</id><published>2006-06-19T18:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T18:46:16.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Boring Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; Today I wanted to slam my head against the desk just for something to do. My god I was bored. Definitely better than cold calling though, by far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stealing internet right now since for some reason wireless isn't working. i'm pretty sure its something my fucking brother has done since i couldn't connect to our wireless but i could on a neighbors. fucking moron. thinks he knows fucking everything there is to know about computers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On saturday we bought some margarita mix where you throw it into the bucket with a bottle of tequila and shove in the freezer overnight. It was pretty good. Next time I'd water it down a bit more since i'm not a fan of the taste of tequila and plus it was a bit sweet but it was the best "mix" i've ever tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sunday was just sitting around drinking margaritas in my new giant glasses. It was pretty awsome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm just sitting here trying to think of something to write. nothing is coming to me. not a thing. I'm not really surprised at how boring I am. I think i'm just tired. Normally if i don't have something to write about i'll just make something up. but i can't even bring myself to do that. maybe i need to stop this stupid blog. Its been going downhill for quite some time. ORRRRRRRRRRR maybe i need to get drunk and drunk post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ever have a conversation with someone that lasted for hours and both of you were totally drunk? I have and i love them. gives me a chance to talk to the person about things we normally wouldn't talk about if sober. Or if there's something i want to know and they'd never tell me...they always do when they're drunk. the past couple days i've really been having the urge to have a drunk convo. i miss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOMEONE GET DRUNK WITH ME AND TALK TO ME!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115076077593924701?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115076077593924701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115076077593924701' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115076077593924701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115076077593924701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/06/boring-day.html' title='Boring Day'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115067702952274068</id><published>2006-06-18T19:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T19:30:37.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Love is a strange thing. I don't think I trust it. Let's look at this whole "love" thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. people do fucked up things in the name of love...like DIE for someone. what the shit is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. women let their husbands beat them to a pulp and say its THEIR fault because they didn't make dinner on time. and oh he's a really good guy MOST of the time. and they don't leave because they say he loves her. WTF?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. a mother can spend her daughter's whole childhood verbally and physically beating the crap out of her and still say she loves her. that's fucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;either love is fucked up or people have some fucked up idea of what love is. i sure as hell don't know what the fuck to think. its not like i have a bad example...my parents are still in love...its actually kind of fucking gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but that's just one instance. and even then you see all the shit that goes on in a marriage and you think you'll never do that or that would never happen with you. but you KNOW it would. its like you compromise in a horrible way. not the kind where you tolerate someone's "cute" little quirks. but where you start to do everythhing for them and essentially become your boyfriend's mother and the only difference is you fuck each other. THAT'S A FUCKED UP RELATIONSHIP. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...scary thought!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115067702952274068?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115067702952274068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115067702952274068' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115067702952274068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115067702952274068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/06/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-115015064071088957</id><published>2006-06-12T17:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T19:01:12.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Come True</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Saturday was a small dream come true. i FINALLY got to drive a golf cart. I've wanted to for so long now. i even contemplated renting a cart one time just to drive around the course. fuck the golfing just drive around. i may still do that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the golfing part was bad, i really sucked so hardcore. they all told me i was really good for a first timer but i think they were lying. trying to make me feel better.  whatever, it was a good time. you really need to have a good group of people to make golfing fun i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday there was a crisis and one of janice's kid's hampster died. so for some reason i had to be there with her when she bought a replacement which was a guinea pig she named scooter. i'm not that fond of the whole rodent as a pet thing. they're not that great and rather boring. same with birds. anything that shits on you really isn't that great of a pet in my opinion. i've had both so its not like i haven't tried them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then after that we went to a horse show. it was boring. REALLY boring in fact. i kept hoping for someone to get bucked off their horse or SOMETHING. but it never happend. i wish i was drunk i bet it would have been way more fun. fuck, just thinking about it has made me bored. the barrel racing was kind of cool though. its really crazy how fast that fucking horse can run. i bet your first time its pretty scary. could you imagine falling off at those speeds? OUCH! if your ass wasn't flat at that point it would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i guess my weekend was pretty full OH i almost forgot at the golf tournament i won these wine glasses where just one of them holds 32 oz. i'm not really sure how much that is but its fucking HUGE. i wonder if i could get half a bottle of wine in there. oh my god that would be great, only two times to fill up instead of 3 or 4. perfect for the lazy person like myself. also good for frozen beverages as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i smell food so i'm going now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-115015064071088957?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/115015064071088957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=115015064071088957' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115015064071088957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/115015064071088957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/06/dream-come-true.html' title='Dream Come True'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114965083234419378</id><published>2006-06-06T22:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T22:27:12.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BUSY</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; Holy shittles i've been crazy busy these last few weeks. Partly because of fucking janice keeping me at her house all hours of the night drinking...ON WEEKDAYS. fucking last friday i had to go to work with a hangover that SUCKED. i'm pretty sure i was still a bit drunk when i woke up. so not cool!!! never will i do that again!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i had to do godamed cold calling again. UGH it sucks. my victims were pizza places in chicago. it was cool though becuase most people just said their manager wasn't in so i hung up. so i didn't really have to dea with bastard assholes. and that was if the phone number worked and if i could even get a hold of people. interested how fucking restaurants don't answer their phones. BITCHIS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes i spelt that word right...B I T C H I S...say it. its an awsome new word my friend and i came up with. you can pretty much say it for any occasion quite like the word fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still unsure? ok let's think of an example...ok so you're driving and some asshole cuts you off you could go "ahhhhhhhhh what the fuck was that? BITCHIS" another time you could say it is like this "UGH BITCHIS" as a sort of statement of exasperation. or maybe just in anger like this &lt;strong&gt;BITCHISSSSSSS&lt;/strong&gt; it really is very fun to say and hilarious to hear someone else say. so make people say it so you can have a laugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i've been downloading songs from grey's anatomy because i FINALLY found a site that lists songs that were featured in each episode. &lt;a href="www.tv.com"&gt;www.tv.com&lt;/a&gt; go there and type in grey's anatomy, then click on episodes then scroll down to the music part. as a result i've found quite a lot of songs i did not like and frankly did not remember hearing. BUT i found a new artist i totally love. she writes very interesting songs. her name is Kate Havnevik. i love her songs so much. i've actually only heard 3 of them so far but i LOVE them. they're somewhat slowish but oh man so nice. if you're interested i suggest downloading "unlike me", "Grace", "Nowhere Warm".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been wanting to make a new cd for my car but have had no time which sucks because i'm so sick of the ones i have. i don't ever buy cd's anymore. i can't stand paying $25 for a cd where i only like MAYBE 7 songs from it. fucking rip off if you ask me. those shittastic artists deserve me ripping off their songs when they can't even put out an album with at LEAST have the songs being good ones. what the shit is that? i think they just do it for money and don't really care that their albums are shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tonight i filled in on our company's slo-pitch team. that was rather interesting. apparently tonight was the first time they havn't been killed. we lost but like by 1 or two runs and they were extatic. it was pretty funny. one guy swung the bat and face planted into the ground. very funny to watch. i played like shit but everyone was like holy shit you're an awsome player. i just laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow i'm helping out with coaching the Under 12 girls soccer team, janice's kid is on that team. they suck large. like to the point where its hard to watch. their biggest problem is they just run all over the place then tire themselves out because they're not staying where they're supposed to. stupid fucktards. their second problem is they kick the effing ball into the center of the field. doesn't matter where they are, they could be RIGHT INFRONT OF THEIR GODAMED NET AND THEY'LL KICK IT UP THE MIDDLE INSTEAD OF TO THE FREAKIN SIDE. i'm not quite sure why they keep doing that i mean the FOUR other coaches of this team besides me keep yelling at them but they don't seem to get it. whatever i don't care its not an age group that you can do much with anyway. just be happy they show up i suppose. when i was that age my coach would have never put up with that shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i was surprised with a lovely post mostly about me over at &lt;a href="http://dontchawish.blogspot.com"&gt;Beezy's&lt;/a&gt; blog. it was nice to hear. i normally don't like that kind of shit but lately i've been thinking of her. probably becuase i haven't really talked to her in a while. i noticed we don't really have those really in depth talks anymore. maybe we know each other so well there isn't much more that we don't know about eachother. though i imagine she feels like she can't tell me stuff. which sucks. but if i dont know about then i can't fix it..right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ugh this post is long i'm going to stop now i hope you all have a great day whenever it is you happen to read this!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114965083234419378?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114965083234419378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114965083234419378' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114965083234419378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114965083234419378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/06/busy.html' title='BUSY'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114911614538379537</id><published>2006-05-31T17:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T17:55:45.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Noooooooooo</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; I've been reduced to being a fucking telemarketer. I hate it. Yesterday I got yelled at by some fucking secretary. BITCH. I don't blame them i fucking hate telemarketers. If only people weren't fucking morons and would just hang up there would be no such thing as telemarketing. Fucking people...i hate people. today i managed to fake it so i didn't have to cold call people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was our second soccer game. the team sucks they were killed 4-1. least they scored a fucking goal. they should have killed this shacton team. we had enough to switch the entire team on and off every 10 minutes. yesterday was exremely hot. the shacton team had ONE FUCKING SUB. our team should have run them into the ground. but no they just kept SCORING that's so fucked. our team sucks. wait till i actually start coaching. they're going to hate me. i'm not putting up with any of their shit. fucking kids. i think i shouldn't coach this age. they're all annoying at 10 and 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why guys are such pussies when it comes to pain. one little cold and they're down for the count. try having a migraine for fucking 3 days. when i have a migraine i still go to work. it really surprises me that men are the dominant sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;throughout nature generally the female is the one that runs things. after sex a lot of the male animals get KILLED. so what the hell why couldn't the human species follow suit? i wonder what a female president would be like. prolly just like the rest of them because she'd have all male advisors most likely. I think the president doesn't do shit. i think its their staff that does all the decision making. i think my point is proven by bush. does that guy do anything at all? i think he just makes appearances and reads whatever they put infront of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a craving for icecream right now. i don't really have a favorite. what i want really just depends on my mood. one day it might be strawberry ice cream, another just plain vanilla. who knows. i tried this one the other week which was orange pineapple. it was actually good. actually i'd have to say i'm a sucker for banana ice cream, you can't find it very often but MAN i love that shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well gotta go to sam's club right now....pip pip toodle pip!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114911614538379537?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114911614538379537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114911614538379537' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114911614538379537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114911614538379537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/05/noooooooooo.html' title='Noooooooooo'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114868581361262076</id><published>2006-05-26T17:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T18:23:44.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>PEOPLE SUCK</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Before I get into my fucking rant I just want to say this is my 90th post...so cool almost 100!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my after my 3 fucking hour conversation today at work with an asshole my opinion of PEOPLE and (sorry guys) AMERICANS has really lowered which i never thought could happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god, this fucking guy kept me on the phone for 3 fucking hours, like FUCK and an hour of it was AFTER 5PM SO IT WAS MY OWN TIME HE WAS BURNING ugh. dickface. and i have to look forward to talking to him on monday too. i can't fucking wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i'm going to pass him off to my boss i can't deal i've spent a total of about 4-5 hours talking to this fucker. i'm going to lose it on him. and you can't just talk to him for a minute he's got to talk and talk and talk and talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so...now i'm drinking, feels good to vent. don't really have anyone to vent to so a blog is just as good i suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114868581361262076?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114868581361262076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114868581361262076' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114868581361262076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114868581361262076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/05/people-suck.html' title='PEOPLE SUCK'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114860896593590672</id><published>2006-05-25T20:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T21:02:46.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" align="center" border="1"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/TT/thursdaythirteen300.jpg" alt="Thursday Thirteen"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: left; background: #9966ff;" align="left"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Thirteen &lt;strong&gt;THINGS&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt; &lt;font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Why don't they make money out of plastic? I've seen a whole novel where its pages were this weird recycleable plastic...why not money? wouldn't that save trees?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you think that if a tree falls and there's no one around to hear it that it DOESN'T make a sound...you're fucking stupid! Just cuz there's no one to hear it doesn't mean it doesn't make a fucking sound ...come on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm going to strike a pose with the garbage dragon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I find it rather hard to come up with 13 things to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. which one was blue first...the sky or the ocean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The mosquitos haven't been this bad in a long time. This sucks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. its kind of weird how people are obsessed with famous people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. This weekend couldn't come fast enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. my fucker next door neighbor started mowing his lawn by my bedroom window at 8am this moring. FUCKER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I think i'm afraid of getting old. I'm not afraid to die, i could care less if i die, i'm afraid of the old part. shitting in my pants, not being able to walk, standing up and breaking a hip, needing people to bathe me and dress me. wtf kind of life is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. did you know that they use tang to treat burn victims because it helps promote skin growth? that's fucked. they literally have stores of it in every single hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. i think its pretty funny when people say they want me to call them, give me their name email and phone number, then when i call them they act all like i'm disturbing them and shit. WTF IS THAT FUCKING SHIT YOU GAVE ME YOUR NUMBER NOW SHUT UP AND ASK ME YOUR STUPID QUESITONS SO I CAN ANSWER THEM AND HANG UP. fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. and what is the last thing i'm going to say? yup you guessed it...my bike ROCKS because its fucking BLUE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Links to other Thursday Thirteens!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.   &lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vince&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.dontchawish.blogspot.com"&gt;Beezaleez&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/?page_id=208"&gt;Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday.  Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged!  If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments.  It’s easy, and fun!  Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well!  I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://technorati.com/tag/thursday+thirteen" rel="tag"&gt;View More Thursday Thirteen Participants&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114860896593590672?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114860896593590672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114860896593590672' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114860896593590672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114860896593590672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/05/thirteen-things-1.html' title=''/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114843711047667741</id><published>2006-05-23T21:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T21:18:30.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing of Importance</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I literally have nothing to say. So I'll talk about boring things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I've been enlisted to help coach a girls under 12 team. OH JOY the point where puberty starts to take hold of those innocent cuties and turn them into raging bitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. June 10th I've been talked into playing in a golf tournament. One thing you should know is that I HATE GOLF. I think its the dumbest thing and its insulting to me that its called a "sport". Hitting a ball into a fucking hole in the ground is NOT A SPORT. You dont' even have to be in shape. what the fuck is that? whatever i'm only in it because i'm obsessed with golf carts and i FINALLY get to ride in one HOLLLLLAAAA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm obsessed with golf carts. I will own one one day and enhance it like you wouldn't believe. I'm talking gay horn, of road wheels, lowering it, sex lights on the bottom, roll cage, paint job, sweet lights, a new enging that goes FASTER than walking speed, its going to be so cool. If i ever get rich i'm going to own a fleet of them and my friends and i will drive around trying to shoot each other with paint guns. You know you want to try it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My bike rocks because its blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I can't wait for the finale of lost tomorrow. I totally hate that Michael fuck, i don't care if he's doing it cuz he wants his stupid kid walt back. you don't fuck with your friends. I mean he even killed people. FUCKER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Don't ever watch a movie called "sound of thunder" it is a horrible movie. we watched it cuz we saw that ben kingsley in it. that dude is a fucking amazing actor and has oscars to prove it. WHY DID YOU PICK THAT MOVIE BEN? WHYYYYYYYY? all i need to say is that by killing a single butterfly when you go back in time 65 million years ago to the time of the dinosaurs creates baboon reptiles in your present time...i belive that's all i need to say to prove my point!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I'm stopping at 7 because it happens to be my favoritest number. Why? when i was 7 years old it was my first year in baseball. I had the number 7 on my shirt, and i won MVP..so 7 is lucky!! I wish i had a seriousy boyfriend so i could get married on July 7, 2007 that would be fucking AWSOME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/H4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114843711047667741?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114843711047667741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114843711047667741' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114843711047667741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114843711047667741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/05/nothing-of-importance.html' title='Nothing of Importance'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114809339331943764</id><published>2006-05-19T21:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T21:49:55.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt; I feel like a big loser. Everyone has plans for the long weekend but me. The only thing I have planned is to see a free movie tomorrow. The Da Vinci Code. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have high hopes for it as I've heard its a big disapointment. Oh well its still a free movie. starts at 9:30am though which sucks balls. That's rather early. Especially for a weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a cottage or a large group of people to go camping with. Though actually this weekend is such a crappy weekend weatherwise for both the cottage and camping that i suppose i don't mind. I mean that would suck to be at the cottage with your friends or family and confined to just the cottage...most of them are so small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i just want to lay around and watch movies the whole time. I feel like withdrawing from the world. I don't know why. I just do. i feel like isolating myself from everyone and just doing nothing. I wish i had my own place. Its much easier to isolate yourself when you're literally by yourself. I mean you can just choose to not answer the phone and there you go...isolated. and you can pretty much bank on the fact that no one will take the time to drop by and make sure you're alright. I mean who's going to worry if they havn't talked to you in 3-4 days. They'll just think you were busy. i guess in that respect i'm lucky my friends are all long distance and can't afford to call. so really the phone is never for me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually getting really motivated to clean up the living area around my bedroom. So i guess that's good. I just don't always want to be holed up in my room but i also don't want to be around my family so what's left? the basement, that's what. I need to clean my shit up anyway. I'm such a packrat. but for good reason. many times i've kept something thinking i'll use it later and i've actually used it..maybe not a week later or a month later but i have had use for shit that i've saved. so its not just cuz i can't throw shit out. IT MIGHT COME IN HANDY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem with that is I'll likely grow very bored with that. I find myself getting bored as soon as i walk in the door from work. How lame is that. TOTALLY. I need some new hobbies or a project to work on ...SOMETHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just read over everything and i really don't know where that shit all came from. i havn't even been drinking. ....weird.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         but i'm too lazy to delete it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114809339331943764?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114809339331943764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114809339331943764' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114809339331943764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114809339331943764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/05/long-weekend.html' title='Long Weekend'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114762181769057525</id><published>2006-05-14T10:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T14:02:55.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>King Kong and Other Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Last night I watched King Kong. The first two hours were ok. Cool graphics somewhat interesting story line. I haven't seen the original so i have no idea what its like compared to it. the last hour however was not cool. it was actually hard for me to watch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone was so cruel to that animal. poor thing. i actually cried it was so bad. they did such a good job of making that gorilla more than just an animal then they fucking kill it. and i mean this was no nice death. it just kept getting shot and shot and shot. i guess it would be like getting shot a million times with those metal bb's i mean it doesn't kill you right away but if you keep getting shot with them eventually you'll die. that's what happend to that gorilla. i imagine that was a painfull death. so because of that the movie gets two fists in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you hate it when people say you've lost weight when you know for a fact you haven't and you've actually gained a couple pounds? it annoys me to know end. I wonder WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU BASING THIS ON? i've been told that a couple times lately and i just want to scream when i hear it. i know i know, people are being nice but still its annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My trip to San Francisco was ok. Tradeshows suck. my boss asked me if i was having fun and i said no. why would standing on cement for 9 hours saying the same thing over and over again, enduring foot and lower back pain BE FUN???? i don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i did however enjoy the food at some restaurants we went to. that was awsome. i had a $45.00 (USD)steak...that was just the meat, the rest of the food was seperate. soooooooo good!!!mmmmmmmmm my mouth is watering just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also enjoyed bar hopping and not paying for one fucking drink! that was sweet too. HELL YA! We had one full day to sight see, it wasn't as great considering i had a wicked hangover. that part sucked. but i enjoyed the ferry ride, i got to see the golden gate bridge and alkatraz. so it was ok. but definitely the trade show part of it was bad. SO bad and in my opinion NOT worth it. plus the fact that i got SO fucking behind in work back here it took me 3 days to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been watching a lot of shows about meercats and i've decided i want one...a meercat and a penguin and an elephant. they're all so fucking COOL. but i really want a meercat. i wonder how bad they would destroy your home. maybe you'd need to have a special pen for them. and you couldn't let them outside for very long because they would dig outside of your yard. they often dig 10 times their body weight. that's fucked. My dog suki reminds me of a meercat, she often sits up on her hind legs and stares at me, sometimes whines. i wish i could know what she was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok i'm off to africa to steal a couple meercats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114762181769057525?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114762181769057525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114762181769057525' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114762181769057525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114762181769057525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/05/king-kong-and-other-stuff.html' title='King Kong and Other Stuff'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114740210861632037</id><published>2006-05-11T21:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T21:56:48.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" align="center" border="1"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/TT/thursdaythirteen300.jpg" alt="Thursday Thirteen"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: left; background: #9966ff;" align="left"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Thirteen Reasons Why My New Bike  &lt;strong&gt;ROCKS&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt; &lt;font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Really the only reason that matters is that my bike is BLUE the best color ever...and yellow and black, but mostely blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. It says hooligan on the back of the seat and side of the bike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. It has a bunch of gears to allow for a much better work out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I slammed into one of janice's kids with my bike, she got hurt cuz her bike isn't as cool as mine and i didn't get hurt, i did however fall into the highway and almost died but my bike is still cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. There's lots of hills around here so i can go hella fast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. i finally get to have the wind in my hair (i love that feeling)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. people envy me cuz my bike is so cool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. my bike has shocks on it DOES YOURS????????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. did i mention my bike is BLUE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. i can bike instead of walk...walking just takes way too long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. i can cover way more ground on a bike than if i was to walk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. hills are way funner on a bike than in a car or even walking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. basically my bike rocks because its blue and says hooligan on it i mean it doesn't get much better than that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Links to other Thursday Thirteens!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.   &lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vince&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.dontchawish.blogspot.com"&gt;Beezaleez&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/?page_id=208"&gt;Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday.  Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged!  If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments.  It’s easy, and fun!  Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well!  I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://technorati.com/tag/thursday+thirteen" rel="tag"&gt;View More Thursday Thirteen Participants&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114740210861632037?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114740210861632037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114740210861632037' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114740210861632037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114740210861632037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/05/thirteen-reasons-why-my-new-bike-rocks.html' title=''/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114568278334009360</id><published>2006-04-22T00:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T00:13:15.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Kind of Hug</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;As i was watching my taped episode of starting over today i was relieved to see that kim is graduating. i was starting to get sick of her and quite frankly she was very rude at kelly's graduation ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway christie was upset about her leaving as she feels very close to her. Rhonda (a life coach) was hugging her. it was one of those big, wrap your arms around the person so tight, holding them, rocking them, and just consoling them kind of hugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those are my favorite. It made me think...when was the last time i had one of those? i truely can't remember. I'm talking years here. its sad considering hugs are so easy to give. but then how do you go about it if you want one? i mean you can't just keep hugging cuz you get that awkwardness when the one person starts to pull away and you just keep holding on for dear life. And i can't ASK for one since i have a huge problem with asking for things for myself. quite the dilema. i think its just one of those things that...happen. there's no planning..actually i guess that's not true some of those types of hugs i've given were totall planned on my part. sometimes someone just needs to be held in someone's arms, to feel that someone cares about them, to just sit (or stand) knowing that somoene is there...its a nice feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that if i was to get one anytime soon i'd probably cry. I'm not really sure why but the first thought that came to me is i'd probably just break down and have a cry. mostly because that NEVER happens and a hug like that would most likely trigger one. i'm not a fan of crying and definitely not infront of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess its just all the stuff that's been building up these last few weeks. sometimes shit juts gets to you, right? oh well you don't receive what you don't ask for. i think someone should just KNOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114568278334009360?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114568278334009360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114568278334009360' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114568278334009360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114568278334009360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/good-kind-of-hug.html' title='The Good Kind of Hug'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114557696134440075</id><published>2006-04-20T18:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T18:49:21.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" align="center" border="1"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/TT/thursdaythirteen300.jpg" alt="Thursday Thirteen"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: left; background: #9966ff;" align="left"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Thirteen Things About Me You Probably Don't  &lt;strong&gt;CARE&lt;/strong&gt; About&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt; &lt;font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A lot of times I have to let my dog into the bathroom with me otherwise she sits there whining, scratching at the door and sometimes barking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My typeing is awsome and &lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com"&gt;Sissy's&lt;/a&gt; is just ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Most times I don't tell the people closest to me how much they mean to me and how much i value them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I'm going to San Francisco next week and i'm NOT looking forward to it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I under-value myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I don't think of myself very highly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I think I'm going to lose a friend and there doesn't seem to be much I can do about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Tomorrow I'll be moving desks for the EIGHTH FUCKING TIME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I'm planning a BIG surprise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Matilda (Janice's Kid) told me she likes me but not in a sexy way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Right now i'm watching andromeda and it is the lamest fucking show EVER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. If i was smart i'd be pretty damn rich!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I'm going to go shoe shopping again this weekend, my boss totally freaked me out about making sure we have good shoes because tradeshows are extremely painful on your feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Links to other Thursday Thirteens!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.   &lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vince&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.dontchawish.blogspot.com"&gt;Beezaleez&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/?page_id=208"&gt;Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday.  Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged!  If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments.  It’s easy, and fun!  Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well!  I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://technorati.com/tag/thursday+thirteen" rel="tag"&gt;View More Thursday Thirteen Participants&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114557696134440075?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114557696134440075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114557696134440075' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114557696134440075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114557696134440075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/thirteen-things-about-me-you-probably.html' title=''/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114542118455927258</id><published>2006-04-18T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T23:33:04.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Confession of Sorts</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I have some bitching to do about Starting Over today but first I'll start with something that made me think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were talking about feeling loved by the people around you. Questions are risky but create intamacy between you and whoever. You have to have the balls to put yourself out there and risk hearing something not so great from the people you love. That's a tough one for me for sure. I've very guarded. I'm not willing to be rejected or vulnerable. Anyone who ends up having the balls to ask me the questions they KNOW i will not answer very willingly is a great person in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost this is &lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com"&gt;Sissy&lt;/a&gt; by far she has gone the whole nine yards and much more. I really do admire her determination. She just does not give up and you know what? I may really get annoyed but I think we have become very close in a short amount of time because of it. It's probably made our friendship very strong and you know I should thank her for that. For not giving up as easily as others and making sure she gets what she wants from me. Over the short amount of time we've known each other she has learned a lot of things about me that even my best friend doesn't know. Simply because she wouldn't give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not quite sure why any of them stick around me. I am really quite difficult. I hate talking about my feelings and most people don't know how i really feel about them or a situation. sure they can ask but most times i'll not tell them, lie, or change the subject. it's hard totally opening yourself up to someone, no one really knows the real me. I'm much better than i used to be but still have a long way to go. If i were my friend i'd feel ripped off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so a round of applause goes to &lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com"&gt;Sissy&lt;/a&gt; for not giving up until she gets an answer to her question. And i really do mean that, she has literally spent over an HOUR trying to get the answer to just ONE question from me. now if that isn't determination i don't know what is. We don't talk much anymore, alas life has made us both busy, we don't have those kinds of conversations anymore, i can't say i'm THAT dissapointed i'm missing out on those conversations that last hours with her getting pissed at me that i won't answer her question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok so on a subject which ISN'T about me, that fucking jodie isn't leaving starting over. fucking bitch, she is such a godamed tease. all this boo hoo'ing and she ends up staying. and to top it off kelly likes her now and feels "compassion" for her cuz of all her stupid crying about bethany leaving. LAME.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i can't wait until tomorrow's episode. bethany's replacement arrives. she's not there an hour and people are calling her arrogant and shallow. its gonna be so good. i hope everyone hates her and there are big fights. the fights are good. THERE BETTER BE A FIGHT, i need to be cheered up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://seansblogabout.blogspot.com"&gt;Sean&lt;/a&gt; brought up a good point recently about my move in the office. he reminded me that i was so upset about sharing this office with NC and now i'm upset about leaving the office. let's set something straight these are the things i love about the office&lt;br /&gt;-we can shut the door&lt;br /&gt;-its quiet&lt;br /&gt;-people can't see what i'm looking at on my computer&lt;br /&gt;-people don't realize i'm not working the whole time&lt;br /&gt;-we can play music without having to listen on the headphones&lt;br /&gt;-i can talk on the phone and actually HEAR what the person is saying to me&lt;br /&gt;-there aren't a ton of people around me to distract me when i'm on the phone&lt;br /&gt;-MY BOSS ISN'T SITTING IN THERE WITH US&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the things that i don't like about the office&lt;br /&gt;-NC asks me retarded questions ALL the time.&lt;br /&gt;-when i need to talk to my boss she's friggen far away so its hard to talk to her&lt;br /&gt;-the printer is way far away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you can see the pros definitely out weigh the cons. What am i going to hate about leaving the office? obviously i'm going to miss all the pros of being in there in the first place. I'll also miss being able to bitch about our boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i'm a big fan of not having to answer NC's retarded questions and that's a HUGE pro. but all in all i still hate leaving the office cuz being in an office is definitely better than no office sitting in a fucking cubicle shared by four people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114542118455927258?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114542118455927258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114542118455927258' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114542118455927258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114542118455927258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/confession-of-sorts.html' title='A Confession of Sorts'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114533458086461771</id><published>2006-04-17T21:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T23:29:42.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If only it were a Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Well what do you know looks like I'll be moving desks for the EIGHTH FUCKING TIME this is bullshit. i'm so sick of moving around this fucking office. and it will suck to have to sit with my boss again. i could take everything except that when i have to make my calls to people i'll have to do it with tons of people around me to make lots of noise so i can't hear what people are saying to me. i already have a hard enough time. i relayed this concern of mine to my boss and my reply was "well you can come back in here and make your calls." to which i replied "is there going to be a computer in there?" and my answer was "no there will not be a computer in there" and i said "well that won't work for me" i really didn't get an answer to that, just a look, not a bad look but a look nontheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway NC and i are totally pissed we're losing our totally sweet office. no more shutting the door and bitching about people, no more shutting the door and playing music, no more shutting the door and just plain TALKING. guess we'll have to go back to msn if we actually want to talk. its weird how we both feel like we can't even talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the starting over front looks like bethany is going to leave the house AND MY ARCH NEMASIS JODIE. wahooooooooo i can't wait for that stupid jodie to make like a baby and HEAD OUT. See ya no one wants to be ya! So far as i can tell she's leaving because bethany is leaving and she "is tired of seeing people leave" what a fucking baby, you're there to work on your fucking self not get upset about people leaving. she's such an attention WHORE. ugh i hate her so much. can't wait to see that episode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bethany's sister was there to help her out making the decision. seeing them makes me kind of jealous. i wish i had a sister. it seems like sisters have such a unique connection that you just don't see with a brother and sister. my brother and i were closer at some point. but then he turned into an asshole so i don't really like to be around him much anymore. i feel like i'm missing out on something. i don't know maybe having a sister is over rated but its something i've always wanted. maybe i'll have to wait till my brother gets married...HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA oh man sorry i think i was dreaming there. its sad but i really don't see him finding someone who can stand him. i can't even stand his asshole'ishness. but then i'm not looking to date him SO....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol he does have one chick who seems to be interested in him. she's a fucking FREAK. one of those tree hugger hippies. the kind that are creepy. i mean i don't have anything against those people but i'm not sure they even bathe and that's just not cool. plus she's kind of annoying and her voice makes me want to punch her in the throat in hopes of damaging her voice box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get why just because someone is my family i have to like them. i mean i didn't CHOOSE to be related to them. wouldn't that be stupid if you had a friend you hated i mean that just doesn't make sense. why do i have to like someone who is only related to me by marriage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i must be slicing myself with a knife in my sleep. i have a cut on my thumb and i didn't even use a fucking knife today. nor did i run paper along my thumb. so where the fuck did this slice come from? it really hurts too. i must also be fighting myself in my sleep since i constantly find bruises on myself from nothing that i can think of. i mean you would remember banging into shit....wouldn't you? I'm not the most careful person when it comes to shit like that. sometimes i find it easier to just bang into shit than to avoid it. i mean a bruise heals right? sure does. there are however certain ones you have to be careful of. the closer they are to your heart the more dangerous they are. did you know that you can die from a bad bruise? pretty scary. for sports like rugby and football the doctors actually sit and rub out bruises which are high up on the leg because you can get a clot. THAT'S FUCKED? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd be like HEY MAN that bruise is fucking cool and i HAVE to show everyone i know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i want to start biking. I'm thinking of buying a bike. i'm not sure yet, i always have troubles buying myself anything. i have to weigh the pros and cons as always. but they say you should do different forms of exercise so this could work. plus i have this urge to have the wind in my hair on a nice day. its weird actually. how strong this urge i have to bike is. i don't get why as of yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On sunday i was told by janices three girls that i'm their favorite babysitter. their reason? ya i had to know too...it was because one time i took them to mcdonalds. yup kids are easy to win over. they also said they would want me as their mom. they don't like their one babysitter, apparently the girl makes them dance all the time, and if they don't want to dance she makes them go to their room and tells their mom that they were being bad...this babysitter is a fucked up kid. what the hell? they like me babysitting because another time we made chocolate suckers....kids are easy to win over...i think its funny i mean most times i like to just sit and watch the kiddie movies since i'm addicted to them. but it was still nice to hear i suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i kind of want to start being more in their lives. doing fun things with them, taking them out and doing shit. the youngest, johnny, is just about old enough that we can do that. she's really little though so walking a lot is hard otherwise she'll start to ask to be carried and that's not cool with me!!! i pretty much have hre whining problem fixed though. whenever she starts to whine i say "i can't hear you when you're whining" and like magic she starts to talk normal. funny how that works isn't it. i hate whining its like jamming a pencil in your ear, VERY PAINFUL. Well anyway they don't like their aunts so i could be their cool aunt. and apparently i'm talking to the oldest one tommy about pads and tampons when her time comes, janice thinks its soon lol. i dont know if i should be the one to talk to her about it. isn't that an important time in a chick's life? oh, by talk i mean get her to use a tampon. a tampon because she loves to swim and lets face it swimming with a pad just doesn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know its nice to be around kids and its nice when they really want to be around you and love being with you. kind of a nice feeling. hard to describe. i never had a cool aunt so i could be one for sure and i'm kind of giving up on my brother to produce me some kids i can be an aunt to so i have to make due right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114533458086461771?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114533458086461771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114533458086461771' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114533458086461771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114533458086461771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/if-only-it-were-joke.html' title='If only it were a Joke'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114507531321802397</id><published>2006-04-14T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T23:28:33.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting Over Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;So stupid jodie is still there. I'm really growing to despise her she's annoying and self centered. yesterday she got in this big fight with kelly who i happen to like. Jodie is on a diet and she expects everyone to "support" her in it. Meaning don't cook certain foods. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kelly got pissed (and rightly so) cuz she feels like she can't even eat what she wants. i would be the same. she says "i'm not on a diet so why should i have to suffer" that could sound a bit bad, but i understand. and jodie is saying why can't you support me and shit like that which i see that point too. but she's a fucking hipocrite considering kelly had lung cancer from smoking for 25 years and jodie smokes around her SOOOO she really has no right to be mad that kelly has finally had it and is cooking whatever she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO KELLY YOU ROCK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The previews for next week suggest jodie is having another one of her "i can't handle this i'm going to quit" fits. i hope she finally does fucking leave and makes room for someone less annoying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the third season of starting over. You can leave the house in three ways. &lt;br /&gt;1. You graduate: meaning you've worked through all your shit and you're in a better way.&lt;br /&gt;2. You are a big fat quitter and just decide to LEAVE&lt;br /&gt;3. You suck and they're sick of you letting them down so they kick you out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people leave by way of number 1, as far as i can remember there have been 2 people leaving by way of number 2, and there have been a couple who have left by way of number 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO you can imagine my excitement to learn that someone who has either "left" or been kicked out will be returning some time in the near future. Of all the people who have left either kicked out or quit i only liked one of them, she was really cool and reminded me a bit of me but WAY cooler and stronger. i was really pissed she up and quit. Watch it will be one of the others who i hated that come back to annoy me. but they were all people with big characters who will most likely stir up some SHIT in the house so that will be a big plus!! i can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really dissapointed with today's episode that kelly and jodie didn't fight some more. that would have been funny! but today the new chick came, her name is Niambi rhymes with bambi. she used to be a professional jumper whatever that means. i guess she just did the jumping sports like long jump and triple jump. she made money at it and was ranked number one for a couple years in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know it is very interesting how people don't recognize their own greatness. I mean this chick has been all over the world competing and has won quite a lot but she really wasn't even proud of herself. WTF is that shit? everyone in the house was like why the hell doesn't she get it. but i think a lot of people are that way. I'm sure if i was to talk to &lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com"&gt;Sissy&lt;/a&gt; about this subject i'd get an earfull about myself. (BTW I'M NOT TALKING TO YOU ABOUT IT SO I DON'T NEED TO HEAR YOUR INPUT ON THE SUBJECT)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway i have a feeling she's going to annoy me too, i guess i get annoyed rather easily. OH WELL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a blah day, i started drinking at 2pm, WHATEVER its a fucking holiday alright? Gin and 7 to be exact. I literally spent the entire day on the couch mainly watching animal planet. i love that channel, i totally missed it so much. Then janice called me at 8pm to go for a walk and we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was night and that seems to be when the toads decide to cross the road for whatever reason. Johnny their youngest daughter had a rather large one she was carrying and i told her you'd better watch out cuz it will piss on you. and of course all the girls were saying no, then janice said its going to piss on you and just as she finished it totally pissed all over her tiny hands and she quickly BUT gently put it down long enough to give the legs of her pants a big wipe to get the piss off her hands. that was damn funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Janice and i have decided to start walking again since the weather is nicer. i wonder how long that will last... She says we have to start walking so we can get into shape and wear our bikinis, i told her i wouldn't be caught dead in a fucking bikini no way no how. she has one and she's cool enough with her body to wear it so more power to her, but i am SO not in that place. I guess you kind of have to get ok with your body if you've had three children. i mean so many doctors and nurses down there, you really can't be shy can you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do you do when you see a baby that is so UGLY? whoever says all babies are beautiful must be fucking BLIND. and what do you do when its your friend's baby you're seeing for the first time? you'd better be a damn good lier. its a good thing that a parent could have the ugliest fucking baby ever but they're too blinded by love to see. WELL ALL THE REST OF US DON'T HAVE THE LUXURY. i wish i could say "that thing is hideous!" of course i wouldn't but i wish i could. so far i havn't had to worry about this situation but i'm sure Beez will be procreating ASAP so if her kids are ugly i'm not babysitting because i dont' want to be associated with ugliness. HAHAHA i'm totally going to get in trouble for saying that IT WAS A JOKE!!!don't send me an angry email!! i wasn't joking about the babysitting part tho, don't dump your kids on me until they're fully potty trained and can pour their own juice!!! OH and they can actually TALK. I'm a picky babysitter when i'm doing it for FREE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note has anyone noticed its that time of year again? you know, the one when mother nature decides to thin out her crop or morons? The roadkill is definitely starting to pile up around here. Mostly i see rabbits and racoons, occasional squirrels and skunks and once in awhile i'll see cats. This past week i saw a possum roadkill for the first time. never seen that. OH sometimes i'll see a porcupine. does anyone else think its weird that someone doesn't get a flat tire from hitting a porcupine, or is it just me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did you know that the city actually pays people to just drive around and pick up roadkill? and you know they don't even do anything with it they just chuck it into the ditch more or a nearby field depending on the road they're on. That's fucked. could you imagine telling people that you collect roadkill for a living? i wonder how much they get paid. that's pretty retarded that my tax dollars are going to somoene to pick up fucking roadkill. fuck, i don't care if there are carcasses on the fucking road. i guess it goes more to disposing of things like deer and the large animals like that. but still. oh and those roadkill collecters are fucked up people. they think its funny to put a dead rabbit in each other's lockers as a joke. if i found some dead and bleeding body in my locker oozing all over my shit i'd be pissed and there'd be hell to pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got more to say but i tend to get annoyed when people do long ass posts unless they're actually interesting. if they're interesting i usually end up wishing there was more. but alas i'm not quite interesting enough...maybe i'll get there one day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114507531321802397?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114507531321802397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114507531321802397' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114507531321802397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114507531321802397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/starting-over-update.html' title='Starting Over Update'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114497870365437081</id><published>2006-04-13T20:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T13:05:33.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" align="center" border="1"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/TT/thursdaythirteen300.jpg" alt="Thursday Thirteen"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: left; background: #9966ff;" align="left"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Thirteen Things I &lt;strong&gt;WONDER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt; &lt;font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I wonder how I'm going to learn how to fly on my own. Like superman. none of that airplane shit!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I wonder why people think its cool to put euro lights on a fucking CUBE VAN!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I wonder what the largest number of animals i'll own at one time will be, i bet a lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I wonder how people can handle working at places like the humane society or being animal cops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I wonder when the fuck i'm going to be able to move out of my fucking parents HOUSE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I wonder where my life is going to lead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I wonder when i'm going to be able to afford my dream worskshop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I wonder when i'm going to get the blue penguin up and running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I wonder what it feels like to punch someone in the face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I wonder what it feels like to be in a car that is flipping in the air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I wonder what it feels like to be totally free of all my insecurities, inhibitions, worries and retarded things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I wonder what it is like to be smart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I wonder what it is like to be successful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Links to other Thursday Thirteens!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.   &lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vince&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.dontchawish.blogspot.com"&gt;Beezaleez&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/?page_id=208"&gt;Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday.  Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged!  If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments.  It’s easy, and fun!  Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well!  I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://technorati.com/tag/thursday+thirteen" rel="tag"&gt;View More Thursday Thirteen Participants&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114497870365437081?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114497870365437081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114497870365437081' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114497870365437081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114497870365437081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/thirteen-things-i-wonder-1.html' title=''/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114436792712360082</id><published>2006-04-06T18:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-09T15:02:58.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" align="center" border="1"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/TT/thursdaythirteen300.jpg" alt="Thursday Thirteen"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: left; background: #9966ff;" align="left"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Thirteen Things about &lt;strong&gt;ME&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4&gt; &lt;font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1…. For some strange stroke of luck i have the house to myself on a thursday night so i'm taking full advantage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I drink wine from a drinking glass. Fuck those wine glasses they're way too small!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I love Pier 1 I just picked up two new blue glasses, they're so SWEET!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I'm addicted to blue glass..glasses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Blue is my favorite color&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I'm stubborn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I've never had a boyfriend...ever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I went into work an hour and a half late today and my boss freaked out and started calling everywhere trying to find me cuz she thought i was hurt or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I always put three ice cubes in my drinks...it can't be more or less. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. This is hard i can't think of anymore things about me...OH i wish i could fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Right now i have music blaring on my surround sound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I'm eating some sort of fish stick right now and its gross but i keep eating it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I can't dance...at all...it just looks wrong....SO wrong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Links to other Thursday Thirteens!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.   &lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vince&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.dontchawish.blogspot.com"&gt;Beezaleez&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/font color=blue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mysuspensionofdisbelief.com/?page_id=208"&gt;Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday.  Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged!  If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments.  It’s easy, and fun!  Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well!  I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://technorati.com/tag/thursday+thirteen" rel="tag"&gt;View More Thursday Thirteen Participants&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vincentparker.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114436792712360082?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114436792712360082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114436792712360082' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114436792712360082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114436792712360082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/thirteen-things-about-me-1.html' title=''/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114429824799312123</id><published>2006-04-05T23:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T23:37:28.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old People</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I just finished watching my show &lt;a href="http://www.startingovertv.com"&gt;Starting Over&lt;/a&gt; which is on at 10am so i must tape it. its a reality show for women about women. its for those that need guidance. past women in the house had issues such as: trust, getting over a loved one's death, trying to mend broken relationships, weight issues, and so on. pretty much anything. there are two life coaches ronda and iyanla who guide these women and there is a psychologist Dr. Stan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway todays theme was about getting old. and one aspect was that you should have older women in your life. it made me sit and think. i really do have a lot of older women around me. and i love older people. they have some amazing stories to tell, great advice, and life long experience that i just don't have and love the opportunity to learn from. i just love to sit and talk with them. hear about years gone by. great trips they've gone on, places they've been to, mistakes they've made. pretty much anything i'm game for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now don't get me wrong old people annoy the crap out of me too. for instance their annoying tendancy to drive 20 under the fucking speed limit. GET OFF THE ROAD OR GET OUT OF MY WAY! or the fact that they'll tell you the same story over and over again because they honestly don't ever remember telling you the first or third time. but generally i enjoy them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really do think its important to have older women in your life to learn from. that's pretty sad if you don't have that...besides your mother i mean. i have a few interesting older women in my life and i really do enjoy them, sometimes i prefer them to people my own age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another reason i like the show is with a house full of women there's bound to be a few cat fights. SO FUNNY. oh man i kill myself laughing sometimes at the retarded things women do. i really hope i'm not like that. i'm pretty sure i'm not. i'd like to go on that show and just be a total bitch to everyone. i think that would be funny. i bet i'd get them good ratings! everyone loves to hate at least one person on reality shows. i'm starting to get sick of a couple of the chicks on the show, but there's a board of review today or friday so hopefully the one chick jodie is GONE. they've been there a couple months already and its time for jodie to fuck off i can't stand her anymore. i never really liked her but now i'm just ready for her to be gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the newest chick is bethany and two months ago her daughter died in a car accident. it was so sad hearing her story. she's in the house to learn how to move on. i'm wondering if its a bit early and so are most of the people in the house. but i wouldn't know i've never lost a kid....i've never had a kid....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well anyway i'm sure you love reading about a show you've never watched. i should go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114429824799312123?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114429824799312123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114429824799312123' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114429824799312123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114429824799312123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/old-people.html' title='Old People'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114420555237818103</id><published>2006-04-04T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T21:52:44.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slacker</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I've really been slacking with my working out. I think i'm just getting discouraged. i've been doing it for a long while with no visible results. i must be doing something wrong. Or maybe i'm just cursed to be overbese with a gross body. I'm leaning towards that one myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEY PERFECT GUY WHO SAYS HE DOESN'T CARE WHAT HIS CHICK LOOKS LIKE BECAUSE HE LOVES HER JUST THE WAY SHE IS...YOU CAN COME ON MY WAY RIGHT ABOUT NOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wouldn't that be a self esteem booster? i don't think i'd believe it even if a guy ever said that to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made a mental note to stop telling people i like to work with glass. i told NC and like others before her she went on the whole "you should start a business" thing. annoying but i am getting pretty good at thwarting that conversation. i've had it many times and its getting old. as of yet no one has been able to convince me it would be worth while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right in the middle of writing this post my best friend tells me she's upset that i haven't mentioned that she's getting married. pisses me off when she does that since i was literally writing about it when she bitched to me. i almost deleted it since i really hate when people do that. but i decided i wouldn't after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so ya she's getting married so that's cool. anyone who knows them knew it was coming so it wasn't that big of a surprise. i guess it was just "surprising" that it was so soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all this wedding stuff has got me thinking about women's obsession with getting married. what is it about weddings that makes women so obsessed about it and can't wait to have it? if you ask me a wedding is so much fucking work, if i thought i was going ot get married i would dread it. and me being me wouldn't ask for help and would try to do it all myself and probably have a mental break down because of how much fucking work they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't think that our society has that "women should get married and pump out some kids" mentality as much anymore. so why are most girls so wedding crazy? i don't get it. i sure am not like that at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meh i know my friend's wedding is going to be hella awsome since her mom is so awsome and totally one of those crazy creative people who can do anything. right now she's having troubles picking her wedding party. i don't envy her, its a tough thing. even picking a maid of honor is a tough thing to do. you really have to make sure the person will work their ass off for you to make the day run smooth and work out. plus i imagine you'd want to pick someone who can deal with stress. OH and someone who will take your shit when you get totally bitchy which is inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my one request would be OPEN BAR. i'm a strong believer of you shouldn't make your guests pay for drinks. i mean you're prolly getting sweet expensive wedding gifts so you might as well reward them right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;should be a good time and i couldn't be more happy for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a work related note NC and I are totally getting annoyed with this new project we've been given. its totally unrealistic and stupid. i'll get so far with my part and it'll be moving smoothly and i'll feel like i'm getting somewhere and then my boss just changes shit around and creates tons more work. i'm getting pissed. i stopped working today at 4:30 and decided i wasn't going to do anything until quitting time. that'll show her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to get my passport tomorrow. i have no idea where i'm going except that its in kitchener. i hope i don't get fucking lost. that would be the way woudln't it? when you're in a time crunch you get lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok i'm totally tired and i feel like i just rambled about nothing so i'm out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114420555237818103?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114420555237818103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114420555237818103' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114420555237818103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114420555237818103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/slacker.html' title='Slacker'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114395277682199020</id><published>2006-04-01T22:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T23:39:43.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Did it Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Yes I did it again, I had to. I went clothes shopping again. This time I hit the JACKPOT! SERIOUSLY so awsome. Practically everything i tried on fit and looked GOOD. that happens like once every FIVE years. i was so happy. i'm always hitting up this store for clothes FIRST everytime i gotta go shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the store is called addition elle. it is literally the only fat people clothes store that i've been in that actually had NICE looking clothes. most of them in other stores are so ugly. i mean seriously, overbese people got style too ya know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i spent WAY too much but i literally have not been serious clothes shopping in about 2 years SO i needed the clothes. but fuck, looks like i'll have to put off buying that sandblaster for a couple months at least until i get my new paycheck which will be the end of april or beginning of june.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i even got some shoes. i'm not sure i want to keep them yet they were like 120.00 after tax. so maybe next weekend i'll hit up my fav shoe store called factory shoes. much more selection than this shitty store i went to and WAY cheaper for the name brands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG i jsut got the biggest craving for some bacon right now. one time my best friend from like grade 6 and i cooked up a whole package of bacon for the two of us, we then had some toast and waffles with it too and some ALCOHOLIC shirley temples. we kinda just threw in whatever alcohol i had which was triple sec, amaretto and something else. it was awsome. i'll never forget that night. i miss times like that. i heart bacon. i love how salty it is and the taste of it. its just good. i don't get how people hate bacon, they're freaks! FREAKS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway i need a few pairs of pants hemmed so that means i'll have to get janice to do it. i think i might offer to babysit her kids for the night or the afternoon or something as payment. i'll see if she looks like she doesn't want to do it then tempt her with that. she has three kids so she doesn't get the chance to go out on her own without them much. i say it again, people who CHOOSE to have 3 kids are fucking crazy. two are a handful... you don't have 3 arms so why have three kids? although she didn't choose to have that many ...the last one was ..um...unplanned. but still after hanging with her and her kids HOLY SHIT. 3 is just too many. its a lot of work. and you see how one of them inevitably gets left out a tad. it always happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's my weekend so far....&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114395277682199020?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114395277682199020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114395277682199020' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114395277682199020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114395277682199020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/04/did-it-again.html' title='Did it Again'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114386375776307807</id><published>2006-03-31T22:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T22:55:57.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sparrow Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Yesterday at work helpdesk guy msn's NC to tell her about how shitty his morning was. We had just gotten into our new office and she had just gotten signed in when he msn'ed her. he says bunch of shit and then says "and on my way to work i think i killed a sparrow." NC reads this to me, we look at each other and BURST out laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that would be the last thing you'd expect someone to say. then we were like um...HOW? he says he hit it with his car when he was driving to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd like to stop here and say NC is like...really new i mean she's been here like just two weeks and already helpdesk guy is msning her for no reason and telling her shit about his day...they never talk in the office so its a bit weird...or at least we think its weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok now for more of the story. SO all yesterday we kept calling him sparrow boy or the sparrow slayer. he didn't think it was that funny but NC and i spent most of the day laughing about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then today he msn's her again around 9:40am and was saying how he didn't want her to think he was a jerk because yesterday he didn't give her a ride home because he just didn't want to cross any boundaries...BOUNDARIES? i said to her, YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW!!! she said fuck you and we both laughed HARD. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i was like what is he talking about the ride? so she said that she was almost out of our parking lot walking to the bus stop and he pulled up stopped and asked her if she was waiting for a ride. she said no and that she was walking to the bus stop. he kinda went oh ok and then DROVE AWAY!!??!@!!! what the hell is what i said to her after she told me that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so hence the whole appology for not giving her a ride. but we were totally confused about the boundary thing. then after that we were really bummed that we had no one else to bug now. we thought it best to not bug him as much so he didnt' get the wrong idea. i just kept laughing and making fun of her cuz that's PRICELESS! oh man, last few days have been full of laughing and messing with helpdesk guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i should mention this guy is REALLY big...i feel kind of bad because he probably doesn't get a lot of attention from the ladies. but she totally wasn't flirting with him so hopefully he doesn't think that. we just want it back to the same where we bug him and msn him a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on another work related note, i got a job offer today. i think i'm going to accept. its not as much as i would have liked but lets face it i probably wouldn't find another job like this. i dont think anyone would hire me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope you all have a fun filled relaxing exciting weekend! i know i won't lol someone better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114386375776307807?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114386375776307807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114386375776307807' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114386375776307807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114386375776307807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/sparrow-boy.html' title='Sparrow Boy'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114360751810995068</id><published>2006-03-28T23:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T23:45:18.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>MOVE NUMBER FUCKING 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Ya that's right I've been moved for the fucking sixth time. this is bullshit i feel like some sort of travelling gypsy or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really liked where I was sitting too. It was the perfect spot. No one ever walked behind me so literally no one could see my screen so i was free to blog to my heart's content. no one sat near me so i didn't have to listen to other people's noises. i had a GIANT window all to myself so i had something to look at when i was feeling bored. That's all gone now of course, i knew it was too good to be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where was i moved to you ask? into the department office. i now have my own office which i have to SHARE with the NC. great so they crammed two desks into one not that big room. first thing i'm pissed about? NO WINDOW! second thing: i had documents which i used regularly pinned onto the cubicle walls for quick and easy access...can't do that in a fucking office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok so good thing about the office? i can shut the door. when me and NC want to bitch about our current project with the most crazy deadline ever we can just shut the door and bitch. or when we just don't feel like working we can just sit in there and talk. our office also has a couch. its a comfy couch too. so that's cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this office has a window which is the same height as the door, so when people walk by they feel compelled to look into the room. it just so happens that i'm facing the door so i don't have to worry about people seeing my screen BUT NC has her back facing the door so she can't see our boss walking in and her screen is facing the door so people CAN see her screen....SHE SUCKS hahahah sucker. she's new so she actually does work....me on the other hand....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how do i feel about NC? she's growing on me...literally, i contracted some sort of fungus from her and i can't get rid of it. i've had her fired, that shit just ain't right! ok so none of that is true but it could be. Naw i'm starting to like her. she swears a lot like i do, she bitches about the same things that i do. and i like how i'm not the only one other than my boss anymore. one thing that still bugs me is that she just doesn't know stuff that she should. for example in microsoft excel she was asking me how to sort a column....SORT BY ASCENDING ORDER...THERE'S A FUCKING BUTTON THAT YOU CLICK THAT DOES IT FOR YOU. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO LOOK THROUGH ALL THE MENUS TO FIND IT. i'm sorry, if you're in business you should just know that!! so its stupid simple things like that she doesn't know and its annoying me cuz i'm the one she gets to help her. plus she's not very technical and our business is all tech so....what the hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well anyway i still reserve my complete and final opinion for when i've worked with her for a month. now since we are so close to each other i'm sure she'll wear on my nerves for example i noticed that she hums and sings to herself, i'm sure she doesn't even know she's doing it but I DO I CAN FUCKING HEAR IT. i don't know about you but that's fucking annoying when you're trying to concentrate!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well anyway that was part of my day...how was your day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114360751810995068?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114360751810995068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114360751810995068' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114360751810995068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114360751810995068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/move-number-fucking-6.html' title='MOVE NUMBER FUCKING 6'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114342975467521697</id><published>2006-03-26T21:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T22:25:31.570-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tragedy Yet to be Unfolded...</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I think something unspeakable has happened to my good friend &lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sissy&lt;/a&gt;. I haven't heard from her or talked to her in DAYS. I'm worried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if she was walking to the mall and there was a hole in the sidewalk and she tripped and fell into a ditch and hit her head on a rock and is now laying there unconscious. She could get really sick or something the weather is still freezing at night. And I mean not many people look in ditches so who knows how long she could just be laying there with blood oozing out of her cracked skull. &lt;font color=orange&gt;WHAT A TRAGEDY!&lt;/font color=orange&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or what if she was minding her own business watching re-runs of sex and the city in her apartment when to her utter surprise some crazy psycho guy climbs up onto her balcony which is 12 floors up and smashes her window and breaks in? He could hold her hostage there tying her up to her computer chair with her own socks. Who knows what he might or might not do to her? What if she had to go pee pee? What if he just made her go right there? That would be horrible. What if he didn't feed her for days upon days and she dwindled down to nothing but a tiny little midget sized &lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com/"&gt;sissy&lt;/a&gt;? Or worse, what if he just tied her up, ransacked her very tidy apartment and then left...Just leaving her tied up alone.&lt;font color=orange&gt; WHAT A TRAGEDY!&lt;/font color=orange&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or what if she's in one of her crazy cleaning moods and while mopping the floor she slips breaking her leg at the knee? Then while she's on the floor trying to drag herself to the phone she pulls on the leg of her desk accidentally knocking over her computer monitor where it lands on her shoulder effectively imobilising her. With a broken knee and most likely dislocated shoulder she lays there unable to move herself any quantifiable distance. She might just end up laying there for days in agonizing pain. And knowing her she was probably waiting to make herself something really great to eat after she did her borderline OCD cleaning. So she'd most likely be very hungry and who knows how long she'd be laying there in pain and hunger.&lt;font color=orange&gt; WHAT A TRAGEDY!&lt;/font color=orange&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or she could simply be just too busy to grace all her MSN friends with her presence. Who knows, hopefully she's alive and isn't unconscious in a ditch, or tied up, or laying on her bedroom floor with a snapped knee and a dislocated shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I hear from her soon so I can stop worrying about all the horrible things that could be keeping her from MSN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114342975467521697?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114342975467521697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114342975467521697' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114342975467521697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114342975467521697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/tragedy-yet-to-be-unfolded.html' title='A Tragedy Yet to be Unfolded...'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114332782181740711</id><published>2006-03-25T17:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T18:03:59.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fan FUCKING Tastic</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Well I went clothes shopping today. what a horrible experience. I mean you know you're fat, you can see yourself in the mirror, its not hard to miss. But clothes shopping is a whole new way of seeing just how fat you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There really aren't any good clothes for fat people. i find that surprising since the majority of north americans are overweight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After shopping for clothes I always end up feeling so disgusting and overbese. people who love clothes shopping must be stick people. no way in hell someone of my size would enjoy searching searching searching and finally finding something you think might just fit that doesn't look ugly and then to have your hopes smashed like a rock to glass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what a horrible day i've had. i could only handle three clothes stores before i had to stop. utterly depressing. so many things i liked but just could not fit into. then i started thinking wtf have i been killing myself working out for? nothing it seems since no weight loss of inch loss. this sucks, i hate my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've heard there are some cultures that admire the overbese, i'm seriously considering finding out which ones and moving there. if i can't lose weight i might as well go somewhere i'll be appreciated. maybe it wont' be so hard to find clothes too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this also got me to thinking about how utterly useless "getting your hopes up" really is. i mean hope just ends up in dissapointment 99% of the time doesn't it? how often do your hopes come true? ..never..mine never have. i put a lot of effort into NOT having hopes. sure there are some, but a bare minimum...i hope for world piece...just kiddding that's like hoping you'll go through a whole day and not have to pay for a single thing. it just isn't going to happen...unless you don't go anywhere and by default don't have to pay for something but that's not what i mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the upside of having no hopes is if something actually does happen then its a pleasant surprise isnt it? and if it doesn't happen then you can have the satisfactin of being right in thinking it wouldn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is all very depressing and i'm an incredibly depressing person. i encourage you all to head over to &lt;a href="http://dontchawish.blogspot.com"&gt;Beezaleez&lt;/a&gt; and check out a video clip she has there. it made me laugh pretty hard so hopefully you'll get a smile after this depressing post!! She's a pretty awsome person to know and i'm thankful she's in my life so get on ova there NOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114332782181740711?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114332782181740711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114332782181740711' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114332782181740711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114332782181740711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/fan-fucking-tastic.html' title='Fan FUCKING Tastic'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114317074012910588</id><published>2006-03-23T22:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T22:46:50.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Geese Explained</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;So I realized that I never even really explained why i was writing about the fucking CANADIAN GEESE. I brought it up because they've taken over the outside of my office. there's hell spawn shit everywhere in the parking lot. they're even on the fucking ROOF. what the fuck?  i wonder if they're planning on having their babies in the empty field/lot next to our parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if they do i'm going to steal one and raise it to hate its own kind. maybe i'll train it to be a canadian geese assassin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want a punching bag. not one of those pussy ones, a REAL one. one that hangs from the ceiling and you have to wear gloves to punch otherwise you skin your knuckles. that could be a good work out right? to punch the shit out of something. you know when you're really pissed and just need to hit something, that would come in really handy....hahah handy i didn't even do that on purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so its my week to do the dishes, it alternates between my brother and i. so i go to do the dishes and what do i see? fucking chicken breast bones all over a plate left on the counter. that just set me off. is it me or is that just rude. not only do you have me doing YOUR FUCKING DISHES but you can't even have the decency to clean them off. maybe i'm wrong but i just got pissed. i left that fucking dish on the counter and yelled at anyone within distance to hear me. not that it will teach anyone a lesson i'm sure my mom will just throw it out which defeats the point but i was so not going to clean that asshole's dish for them. i dont know who did it though i suspect it was my brother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote of the Day: &lt;font color=lightblue&gt;Shut your mouth when you're talking to me!&lt;/font color=lightblue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel very boring right now so i'll quit while i'm behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114317074012910588?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114317074012910588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114317074012910588' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114317074012910588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114317074012910588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/geese-explained.html' title='Geese Explained'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114308619943059977</id><published>2006-03-22T22:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T22:58:05.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Clepto ITCH</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I have the clepto itch, i havn't stolen anything in a long while. last thing i stole? hmmm could have been a road sign ...yes it must have been. i really like stealing road signs. i have a bunch of them. I think i want to steal one of those sap buckets. i don't really have any use for them but stealing isn't about actually wanting the thing. i actually enjoy stealing retarded things. and really...who couldn't use a little bucket?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i stole a mcdonalds wet floor cone once. it was right by the door and my friends were too pussy to take it. i was like ITS RIGHT BY THE DOOR who's going to notice? and more like it who's going to care its a fucking cone. the thing that sucked was that my car was way on the other side of the parking lot so i felt like i stuck out like a sore thumb running to the car with a fucking bright orange cone. but it was good times and it made us laugh so hard. you know the kind of laugh where you can't breathe and your stomach starts to hurt like hell but you just can not stop lauging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one time we were skipping school (again) and just driving around town for no particular reason other than we didn't wan to be in school, going to no particular location just driving. then someone got it into their head that we should follow some random car. we all thought it was a good idea and hella funny. so we followed this guy around for a long while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he started to catch on. he began pulling into more residential streets then out of the blue quickly pulls into what i think was just some random driveway. then we see him throw his head out the window in what i think was an attempt to check out license plate. what does the drive blake do? He fucking pulls into a driveway TURNS AROUND and goes back PAST THE GUY who is still in the driveway staring at us. oh my hell it was hilarious. such good times. that was so funny. then we thought since it was so successful we'd pick another car. this ended up a bust, they took us way way way out of town and we didn't really even know where we were. we had to turn around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i know what bugs me about NC, we took two whole fucking days redoing this marketing brochure thing which was a measley 2 pages, and large parts of the pages was taken up by GRAPHICS THAT WERE GIVEN TO US. it was starting to drive me crazy. ever little word she had to make sure it was the right word and no other word was better. or could we say this in a better way or can we say it in a different way. UGH i'm a rather patient person when it comes to certain things but this was a bit much. in the end i just started saying ya ok that's good even if i didn't think it was. just to get things fucking moving ALONG. holy lord, i had to take a break and do actual work just to get away from her and her endless indecision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure if she's actually like that or she just wants it perfect because this is her first project and wants to make a good impression. EVERYONE pray or hope or wish or whatever it is you do that its the impression one, cuz if it isn't i'll go fucking crazy working with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TCG has started saying hi to me whether i make eye contact with him or not. i was so sure my no eye contact rule was a perfect solution to this problem. guess not. i don't mind him saying hi but soon hi turns into actual conversations and i just can't have that. he annoys me, lunch with him in the same room is enough. ENOUGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note i'm not sure if i have written about this ever before but i really hate, i mean hate, despise, loathe candian geese. why you ask? well my first year of college i lived in an appartment on the 7th floor. it was one of those ones where you can't control the heat. so when everyone had their heat on it was boiling in our apartment. so naturally i had to sleep with my fucking window open all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well the spawn from HELL candian geese seemed to like the apartment building's bit of grass so they were always there. those fuckers are LOUD and i would always wake up to their loudness. FUCKERS. i value my sleep more than i value my own well being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another reason why i hate those fuckers is because at that same time we lived near lake ontario and we used to go there a lot becaues it reminded us of the ocean and we both love the ocean. anyway those horrible creatures shit EVERYWHERE and their shits are fucking huge so you would literally have to walk wiht your head pointing down watching where you put your foot every time. I MEAN EVERY STEP. i dont' even have to do that in my backyard with three fucking dogs. WHAT THE HELL. those things should be eradicated. or they should create a large dog fence for them and put collars on them so they can't go where people like to spend time or like to walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCKERS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i was in an ok mood. then as soon as i walked in the door at home it was like my mood was flipped to aggrevated and ready to snap. it was weird. my dad was asking stupid questions and i almost freaked on him. so i ended up just leaving and going to do my work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i fucking pushed myself hardcore this time oh man i almost didn't make it to my 30 mins...haha yes yesterday and monday i made it to 30 mins, i'm totally moving up in the world of workouts. i have however decided this fucking machine sucks dick. i think i want a bike. a friend said he reads while he's on the bike. that would be awsome i could kill two...CANADIAN GEESE...with one stone. catch up on reading AND get rid of this disgusting sick fat hanging off my body. they're expensive so that won't work. meh i'll keep up the hard work though for sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114308619943059977?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114308619943059977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114308619943059977' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114308619943059977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114308619943059977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/clepto-itch.html' title='The Clepto ITCH'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114300471485721896</id><published>2006-03-21T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T00:18:35.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Today was day 2 of new chick. She's not so bad i guess. i still reserve my judgement for a later time. We had our first project today which was to redesign/write our advertising brochure which is what we send people when they say "send me some more info". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so ok i really didn't think there was anything that wrong with what we already had save it might be a little long. but whatever i'm up to a redesign its kinda fun right? well anyway she's starting to get on my nerves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some things started seeming a little odd. just little things she was saying she didn't understand, little things she was saying she didn't know about computers as well as programs, for example &lt;br /&gt;"i don't know microsoft word all that well" &lt;br /&gt;me: "oh so do you have a mac or something else like that?" &lt;br /&gt;new chick (nc): "no i just havn't used it in awhile"&lt;br /&gt;at this point i was thinking huh? cuz she seems really young so i was thinking it can't be that long since you've had to do shit on the computer for school. now i should say we hired her for a marketing position.&lt;br /&gt;later on while we're discussing things for changes and reason for why the change or why something should be added or cut she's saying things that just don't seem right or kind of weird to me. and she's disagreeing with things i'm saying. now ok i'm not suggesting my way is always the right way. but it just didnt' seem right. i've taken marketing classes and business classes and done some research on writing business materials so i kind of have a good reason for suggesting certain things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway i offered to drive her home because she'd have to take the bus home and i loathe the bus plus i dont know if i'm stupid but i find the guelph bus system totally confusing. off the cuff i asked her what she took in school and what do you think she said? fucking sociology WTF IS THAT ???? how in HELL is that related to marketing..sure its the study of people but wtf? NO WONDER she didn't know those things that i thought was odd she didn't know. I KNEW I WAS RIGHT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her proposed changes are really bugging me and now even more since she really has no basis except she just thinks it looks good or something. oh well i'm going to go with the flow and see how it turns out, her one idea is just pissing me off and i'm going to put my foot down. i don't think she understands the purpose of this brochure and she's totally going to make it stupid looking. i don't even want to work on this anymore EF!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note i found out what those buckets were...my first inkling was correct they ARE sap buckets. so weird. i mean i always thought of a bunch of trees lined in a feild. it must just be some person making their own maple syrup. when i was driving i saw the spiguts(sp?) banged into the trees so that's how i know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's Piece of Advice: if you stand on a piece of tempered glass it will break. How do I know this? I stood on a large sheet of tempered glass I had on my carpeted bedroom floor. It was only one foot but it was most of my weight. It cracked, rather like shattering, but tempered glass doesn't "shatter" per say. it was kind of cool, i was kind of pissed since that's what i use when i'm doing my little designs and i need a flat surface, but we have a bunch more sheets so its all good. plus i can use the pieces for a new glass project i've had in mind for about 3 weeks now...still not ready to put it into production but i'm getting close to chancing a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH one more thing before I leave you to whatever exciting and much more fun things you're doing with your day than I am. I have decided i'm going to buy a sandblaster. in no way can i afford it in a monetary sense. but i feel like i can't afford not to in a sanity, and emotional well being kind of way. i think i need it. for one thing i've had a TON of sandblasting ideas which i havn't been able to put into motion so that would really clear up my idea board which is over flowing ATM. and another thing i'm really feeling like i'm having no fun at all these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the whole friends area is sucking and i really don't feel like going out and making more. no one lives around here and i hate to say it but i just don't feel like driving forever to go visit. sure that makes me a shitty friend but i'm just so tired all the time it seems and the thought of driving there and back does NOT appeal to me. AT ALL!  so why not just immerse myself in something i love and enjoy? i think i might be getting used to never seeing friends or just once in a blue moon. is that bad? i'm not even like OMG I HAVE TO SEE SO AND SO or OMG I'M TOTALLY MISSING SO AND SO. i guess that's bad...or i'd feel bad if someone said that about me...well maybe i wouldnt' care i guess it would depend on the day and mood i'm in lol. but as i said i think i'm jsut getting used to never seeing friends anymore. maybe the socializing at work is all i can deal with ... its about 30mins haha. so bad yup i think i'm going to be a shut in!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;plus i'm really hoping to get my dad involved with the sandblasting. he could do some really amazing things i think. he's 10 times more talented than i WISH i could be. he just has a really creative mind for these sort of things. i bet i could sell his stuff. i just need to figure out in which arena...maybe a website but i don't feel like doing all the marketing and advertising that needs to be done to get people to find the website. but whatever i'm just looking forward to seeing what he comes up with. as well as trying somethings i've been thinking of. UGH the possibilities...ok i have to stop or i won't be able to sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114300471485721896?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114300471485721896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114300471485721896' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114300471485721896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114300471485721896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/day-2.html' title='Day 2'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114271630235772820</id><published>2006-03-18T15:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-18T16:25:56.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck I was Tagged So Now You All Will Feel My Pain!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Me A-Z &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tagged by &lt;a href="http://dontchawish.blogspot.com"&gt;Beezaleez&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Accent -&lt;/font color=orange&gt;I suppose to people who live in England us Canadians have an accent...but no accent lol  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Booze of choice-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;Do I seriousy have to pick just one? it depends on what mood i'm in but generally wine &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Chore I hate-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;I fucking hate all chores, simple as that! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Dog or cat-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;Dogs all the way. I'm not against cats i'm against kitty litter, 10 times worse than picking up dog shit imo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Essential electronics-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;TV, DVD PLAYA  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Favorite perfume(s)/cologne(s) –&lt;/font color=orange&gt;Whatever smells good, i'm not brand whore &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Gold or Silver? –&lt;/font color=orange&gt;neither i'd rather spend my money on something a little more practical!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Hometown-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;The Wood &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Insomnia? –&lt;/font color=orange&gt;Sure who doesn't get that once in awhile...and was that supposed to be asking me if i have insomnia, or have i heard of insomnia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Job Title –&lt;/font color=orange&gt;Marketing Assistant  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Kids?-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;HAHA ya right  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Living Arrangement-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;ugh i live with my parents &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Most admired trait-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;sense of humor &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Number of Sexual Partners-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;0 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Overnight Hospital Stays-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;none...well maybe when i was born i stayed the night... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Phobia-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;no phobias THANK GOD &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Quote-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;Always look left when you know you're right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Religion-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;I'm not religious at all in fact i hate bible thumpers, can't stand those people at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Siblings-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;a younger brother by 3 years &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Time I wake up-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;8:23 am &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Unusual talent/skill-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;HAHA i'm afraid i lack in both the talent and skill department!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Vegetable I refuse to eat-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;Most of them, but mushrooms top my list i hate those fuckers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Worst habit-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;i tend to over think a lot of things...is that a habit? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;X-rays-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;ya i've had a few never broken a bone though HOLLA...does a bone scan count as an xray?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Yummy foods I make-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;if its frozen and its yummy then i technically made it didn't i? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=orange&gt;Zodiac sign-&lt;/font color=orange&gt;Aquarius&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=lightgreen&gt; I am tagging:&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://secksi.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ur_Secksi&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://talledega.blogspot.com/"&gt;M&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://aaande.blogspot.com/"&gt;Roxy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://vxoh.blogspot.com/"&gt;VX&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://seansblogabout.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sean&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font color=lightgreen&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114271630235772820?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114271630235772820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114271630235772820' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114271630235772820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114271630235772820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/fuck-i-was-tagged-so-now-you-all-will.html' title='Fuck I was Tagged So Now You All Will Feel My Pain!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114265728768925136</id><published>2006-03-17T23:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T23:48:32.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want to Know!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;When I drive to and from work everyday I take a side road so I can drive fast, plus the side roads are a lot prettier with much more to see. Anyway for the past two weeks I have seen the trees lining the road with two small buckets attached to them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never seen this before. It made me think oh maybe they're maple trees and someone is trying to collect sap. but then i though wait you're a moron who would just put buckets on trees on the side of the road? I'm not even sure if those trees are maple trees, i'm thinking not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but its driving me crazy i just HAVE to know what they're for. i've never EVER seen these before on these trees. I'm so close to stopping and looking. but there are houses around and how odd would that look PLUS what if the person who's buckets those are live right by where i'm looking? I don't know I JUST WANT TO KNOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new chick starts on Monday. It makes me wonder where its going to leave me. I better not be just the young kid fresh out of school. I'll be pissed. and I really hope they offer me a salary that i find acceptable especially for the shitty project i've been working on practically a whole year now. Literally everyone i tell what i do says i have the worst job ever. I know i have the worst job but i don't need EVERYONE saying i have the worst job. people start complaining at lunch then they look at me and say least i don't have to do what you do THANKS ASSHOLE!! I'M WELL AWARE I SUCK!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok so...something positive now....OH i've made it to 26 minutes now. HOLLA!!! i'm still not satisfied with that OF COURSE. I'd like to make it to like 45 but i think that will take forever. plus i've been running for over a month and i've noticed no difference except that i can go longer and longer. FUCK that i need to lose inches here. i dont think that's going to happen. many many many summers i've played on two baseball teams and a soccer team and never really lost weight. wtf is that shit? and i never really was subbed off the soccer feild so that was playing for a full 45 minutes. ugh my body sucks...literally and metaphorically. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at least i can make it to 26 minutes????&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114265728768925136?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114265728768925136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114265728768925136' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114265728768925136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114265728768925136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-want-to-know.html' title='I Want to Know!!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114256619261387052</id><published>2006-03-16T22:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T21:30:09.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Official</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;If I accept a job offer after my internship is over then i'll be travelling to san francisco at the end of april. i'm not really looking forward to it at all. it means i'll have to go and buy clothes, shoes, and a PURSE. this sucks i've made it 22 years without a purse. i don't have a purse because i hate carrying things. that's what pockets are for, and if it can't fit in your pockets then you probably don't need to be bringing it everywhere with you. plus they're hella girly and that bothers me too since i'm so not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the clothes and shoes thing sucks too because i hate shopping for clothes. it reminds me of just how big i am. i guess i don't mind shopping for shoes but i'm really picking and shoes have to fit a certain way as well as look a certain way. ok so after typing all that i seem like a really picky person. ught whatever that's the way i am. plus its a whole week and i'll miss my bed, i really love my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND i have a limited amount of time to get my passport since i don't have one. so that's great i've heard its a hassle to get one. so FUCK. but who knows they could offer me a shit salary and i'll have to decline. i'd like to think that if they offer me a salary under what i'm thinking that i'd say no...but would i? i really need the money to pay for my lovely school debt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thought for the day is when they replace the stop signs at an intersection with traffic lights what do they do with the old stop signs? do they re-use them? do they just chuck them out? do they destroy them? and where the hell can a get a few?&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114256619261387052?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114256619261387052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114256619261387052' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114256619261387052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114256619261387052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/its-official_114256619261387052.html' title='Its Official'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114237995669090999</id><published>2006-03-14T18:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T18:46:31.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I Missing Something?</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;On my way into the beginning of my subdivision I saw a house sporting those halloween pumpkin leaf garbage bags... is there some sort of halloween thing going on that i missed the memo on? I havn't seen them before so that means they were recently PUT THERE. maybe they don't realize that it is MARCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think i'll get to do my exercising tonight. my brother is on march break and is having some of is loser friends over to have a LAN party. don't know what a LAN party is? LAN stands for local area network. its where you connect a bunch of computers together. and in this case they all play the same game together. loser'ish i know. i'm going to be pissed if they are here really late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm really looking forward to him moving out to go to school. i don't think i'll miss him. i won't miss the internet always going out because he's using up all our alotted bandwidth downloading shit. i won't miss him being an asshole who thinks he knows everything and talks down to people. i won't miss him doing nothing around here. i will however miss having him around to do stuff with when i'm bored. i'll miss getting him drunk beating him at drinking games. i'll miss blaming shit i did on him. and most of all i'll miss him doing dishes so i don't have to. that's really going to suck i hate doing the dishes HARDCORE. but hey at least it would be one less person to do dishes for right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually sitting here trying to find something to talk about. But i really don't have anything at all to talk about. writer's block on my life. work sucked today as usual, for some reason i was freezing the whole day. i had to keep going to the washroom and running hot water on my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i might go up the street and visit the kids and get a few free drinks!!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114237995669090999?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114237995669090999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114237995669090999' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114237995669090999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114237995669090999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/am-i-missing-something.html' title='Am I Missing Something?'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114217619381068185</id><published>2006-03-12T09:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T10:10:17.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 MINS!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;YES I did it, I made it to 20mins and it didn't even kill me. I did like VX suggested. I varried my speeds, still maintaining the raised heartbeat. It allowed me to make 20 mins. And actually I could have gone longer but my legs would have given out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today I am a little sore I better not be building leg muscle i'll be so fucking pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of SORE my left arm is KILLING ME. Yesterday I challenged my brother to game of air hockey. Yup you guessed it I WON! 31-26, what's sweet about it is that it was literally the first time i've played on our machine and i think we've had it for 2 years. He's played it with his friends tons of time. What's different though is that we played it with the lights off and a black light on. it was cool. the puck glows in the dark and so does the table a bit...he says that's why he lost...BULLSHIT, i'm just good and have cat like reflexes BITCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but seriously my arm is KILLING me. man it hurts so much. oh well that's worth it to kick his ass!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hiding out in my room right now because my mother mentioned she wanted help picking up dogshit in the backyard today. we have 3 dogs and over the winter it piles up. right now i'm cursing nature. why oh WHY did all the snow have to melt??????????? CURSES. I'll see how long i can last i really don't want to pick up shit, i worked in a boarding kennel for 4 years i've had my share of picking up shit. least our dogs are small. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to get really hungry so i might have to suck it up and go upstairs for food.&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114217619381068185?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114217619381068185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114217619381068185' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114217619381068185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114217619381068185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/20-mins.html' title='20 MINS!!!!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114177970771790794</id><published>2006-03-07T19:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T20:02:00.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Word of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;WOTD:&lt;font color=blue&gt;Machiavellian&lt;/font color=blue&gt; (mak-ia-vel-ian) elaborately cunning; scheming; unscrupulous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you machiavellian? Do you want to be known as machiavellian? I am in fact I have it on my business card. People often ask me what it means, i just smile and say wouldn't you like to know. then i do this really creepy laugh and just walk away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one time i introduced myself to someone by saying "hi my name is jane doe and i'm highly skilled in the machiavellian area, so watch your back." it was followed by a weird look, i turned and walked away. the rest of the night i coninually got strange looks from numerous people.I'm pretty sure no one knew what it meant. but i thought i'd play on it and started telling people it meant different things. one person i told them it meant that i design machines. no one even asked what machines they just nodded like they knew what i was talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another person i said it means i have a phobia of macaroni. i said that i faint anytime i see just one piece of macaroni. the chick was so sad for me she even gasped. she gave me the number of a therapist...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another time i said it was what i majored in...they nodded in agreement. like they knew what the course was all about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok so none of that actually happend, how &lt;font color=blue&gt;machiavellian&lt;/font color=blue&gt; of me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today it was implied that i have to go to trade shows. i'm not really looking forward to it. yes you get to go to cities like las vegas, new york, boston, san francisco, san jose, but it means standing on concrete for 8 hours. i have a really bad lower back so that will be murder. i think i'm going to need to go shoe shopping too. one pair of shoes i wear frequently are not good for standing around for long periods of time. SHIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;plus you're so dead tired from your whole day of talking to stupid people that you are not able to go and see the sights. plus seeing the sights costs money which i don't have! i know for sure we get money for food but i'm not sure what else. i'm not really looking forward to it. i'd rather spend the week at the office without my boss around. that would be sweet. maybe boring since i can't just walk up and ask her to give me something to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;make sure you use machiavellian today!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114177970771790794?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114177970771790794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114177970771790794' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114177970771790794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114177970771790794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/word-of-day.html' title='Word of the Day'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114168857140855141</id><published>2006-03-06T18:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T18:43:20.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>(insert great title here)</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Ok so I'm excited about my new duvet cover. I found two amazing fabrics i plan on using. the one that will be on the underside which will be against my body is the softest most wonderful feeling fabric EVER. i can't wait to have it on meeeee!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow i really have nothing to write about. you'd think after a weekend there would be loads of shit to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually i have come to a realization. in the past i've had a really hard time with the limited amount of time i've been able to have with my bestest friend. i used to get so pissed off and resentful. like i'd get really pissed...well most times not EVERY time but practically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this weekend i thought about it and it really just does not bother me anymore. i mean she had a whole week off from school and i didn't get to see her once. normally that would chap my ass and i'd give her the silent treatment hard core. but it was like i didn't even notice. my life isn't that busy so its not like i forgot i just didn't care like i used to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm really happy about that....not happy that i never see her anymore but happy that it doesn't bother me. now i'll just focus my anger on someone/something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of which i get so pissed off when you're waiting to turn and the oncoming car DOESN'T signal and you end up waiting for no reason because they slowed down to turn onto the road you were going to. i don't care if there's no one around and you don't feel like signalling. but when someone is fucking sitting in the middle of the road waiting for YOU to pass in order to turn FUCKING SIGNAL ASSHOLE!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114168857140855141?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114168857140855141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114168857140855141' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114168857140855141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114168857140855141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/03/insert-great-title-here.html' title='(insert great title here)'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114118835996806858</id><published>2006-02-28T22:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T23:48:00.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>LAME</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Its official I'm &lt;font color=lightblue&gt;Lame&lt;/font color=lightblue&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can only jog at a fast pace for 12:25 minutes. so LAME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this is my third week...i've WORKED UP TO 12 minutes. god...so lame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it all started when i puked a little in my mouth at the sight of myself. (ok not really but you get how bad it was)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so instead of just complaining about it or avoiding mirrors altogether which btw works to an extent, i decided to do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what am i doing? i'm "jogging" on one of those elipticle machines. i can't handle running on pavement. more like my back can't handle it. now something that has me worried is this machine isn't like normal running. for one thing it makes you lift your legs way higher than you would if you were running on pavement. so the part that has me worried is my quads feel like i'm building them instead of doing cardio to shed this disgusting fat hanging off my body. today i pushed myself to my legs almost giving out. holy lord my quad muscles felt like balloons ready to burst. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so what i dont like is the fact that yes i have giant legs from fat but under that fat there is actually a large amount of muscle and it feels like i'm building more muscle there and i already have a hard enough time finding pants to fit my thighs in the first place. so ya...back to my point today after my "workout" they felt the tightest ever I JUST WANT TO LOSE WEIGHT NOT BUILD MORE MUSCLE!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i'm stuck with it for now since i have no other options. i could go to the gym at work but i don't like people seeing me workout. it just bothers me! plus i work there for 8 hours i just want to leave when its quitting time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for all you damn optimists out there i'll say this. when i started out i could barely do 10 minutes at a SLOW ASS pace. least now i can maintain a fast pace for 12 minutes even if it does kill me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one thing i've noticed is music is VITAL. so is that "now playing" feature on windows media player where it has some weird light show to the music...i find i can watch that and forget that my quads are screaming at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anycrap there is my convincing reason why i'm so fucking lame. you know you agree! JUST AGREE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114118835996806858?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114118835996806858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114118835996806858' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114118835996806858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114118835996806858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/lame.html' title='LAME'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114101194489761351</id><published>2006-02-26T22:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-26T22:46:11.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Today was a nice day. it was nice and sunny out, cold but still pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i slept in woke up showered went upstairs and started a new project. both my parents said it was neat looking but i don't really trust their opinion...they're my parents what else are they going to say...oh that sucks what the hell are you doing?..ya i dont think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway then we went out to lens mills to pick some new fabric to re-upholster my bed frame. i love this bed frame. its made to come out of the corner of a room. it was carpeted before which was so dated and it smelt like old people so i've wanted to redo this for a long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after lots of walking around searching and searching i found something i really like. my first instict was to go with something blue since blue is the best color and nothing is as good. but then i decided against it. i wanted something timeless, classy, and elegant. as well as something that was somewhat neutral to make it easy to decorate around. blue is hard to do that with. besides i'd much rather have fun finding blue accents. for example i saw some awsome fabric for pillows so HOLLA. and what goes better with blue than gold? (the color of my new fabric) well its gold and creme so not all gold and tacky. in fact this fabric reminds me of something you'd see in a really extremely expensive hotel. well anyway i like it. an di'll have fun picking fabrics to create pillows and such around it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this bed is also cool, as i said it was made to come out of the corner of a room. it was designed by the guy who designed and built the CN Tower. i say that's pretty cool in itself. i think the main reason i like it is because you don't often see bed frames that are made to come out of the corner of a room. i like having things that not many other people have. i hate having the same thing as someone else...i'm a leader not a follower!!!...well most times haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today was my first day dealing with the three dogs. it was annoying. they fucking jump up all the time and it seems the owner doesn't believe in cutting a dog's nails so they've become like these sharp needle like talons. very painful to say the least. i had to resort to smacking one on the nose a couple times...yelling did nothing. she got the message after awhile. i dont normally resort to that but some dogs just don't get it. and it seem she is not one to get it. she constantly is provoking the alpha female. which i found amusing and highly entertaining. she knows she's going to piss off that alpha female and eventually get her ass kicked but she still does it anyway. interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i came home and had a rye and coke. i havn't had rye in so long. i forgot how smooth it was and how YUMMY! mmm i might have to add that to my collection that i'm starting to assemble. slowly but surely. i tried a new wine on friday. it was really great, one produced in niagara on the lake. very sweet tasting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well anyway i can't even think of anything else i did interesting how i didn't really do anything but had a great day...cool!!&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114101194489761351?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114101194489761351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114101194489761351' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114101194489761351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114101194489761351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/nice-day.html' title='Nice Day'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114081814969272556</id><published>2006-02-24T16:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T16:55:49.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn Oranges!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I did it again…I peeled and ate an orange. All I can smell is fucking oranges. It’s all over my hands. I washed my hands but to no avail. In fact I washed them a couple times. What is that shit and why does it stay on your hands for so long? I think it gets into your blood stream or something and stays there forever. And the more oranges you eat the more like an orange you become. Ok so not really but I’m bored and I started to ramble there for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today’s word:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Munificent (myoo-NIF-i-suhnt): Lavish: very generous; "his father gave him a half-dollar and his mother a quarter and he thought them munificent.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I saw a man who was treating a group of children munificently. It was really nice to see someone just being generous. I thought to myself wow, that’s really munificent of him. And it was. I’m pretty sure I’d never be that munificent with total strangers whether they’re children or not. I mean kids just don’t appreciate stuff anyway. So screw them. I’d probably feel the same way if they were my own kids too. They can be so ungrateful for so long. Its infuriating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw this man who was giving such munificent things to these kids lead them to what is fondly known by my friends and I as a “pedophile van”. You know the ones...large cube van with NO windows. Usually some non distinct color. I thought to myself I hope he’s just going to restock his munificent gifts because there were so many kids. He couldn’t ACTUALLY be a pedophile could he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so I just made that all up…except for munificent…I bet you’ll remember that word now for awhile. Go on give it a whirl, try it out on someone and see if they know what it means or for that matter have ever heard it used. I’m willing to bet no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I think we pissed of TCG. We went out to get some Chinese take out for lunch and not only did we walk right by him to go to the car but none of us even made eye contact. I don’t really care but it was funny because he made a bunch of sandwiches in the lunchroom then just left without even saying anything to us. We were like “oh well”. But it’s funny because he literally has all the stuff to make a sandwich at work here in the fridge. A bottle of mustard, a package of meat, buns…and whatever else I don’t’ even remember. When I saw that I thought “so HE’S the bastard taking up all the fucking room in the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I’m going to end this shitty post now before it gets worse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE A NICE WEEKEND ALL!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114081814969272556?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114081814969272556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114081814969272556' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114081814969272556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114081814969272556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/damn-oranges.html' title='Damn Oranges!!!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114058390729758899</id><published>2006-02-21T23:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T00:26:42.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>* I've decided i'm probably the laziest person around. I walk in a way so that i barely have to lift my legs. this results in tripping on nothing but the carpet and looking like a moron tripping on nothing. my remedy: shoes with a very slippery bottom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Some great conversation enders are: whatever, fine, ok, alright, i cut my toe earlier and my shoe is filling up with blood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* It annoys me when people say "you have a good heart". how do they know? are they a cardiologist, i don't think so. I'm convinced people say that because they're not sure what else to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I know this makes me an asshole but i don't care : i can't stand people with speech impediments (sp?) i just can't get over it. i spend the whole time watching how their tongue just doesn't go right to form that "s" sound or the "th" sound. it bugs me so much that i would never be friends with someone who has one. i just can't get over it. i don't know why it bothers me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I have a new project i want to work on but i'm stuck on how to start it. Its bugging me. It would be nice if i had someone to make it for so i could get some guidance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* My webcam is somewhere around here but i can't find it. i have no idea where it is i feel like i've looked everywhere. of course when i do find it (if ever) it will most likely be in a painfully throw yourself off a cliff obvious place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I hate it when people who's blogs i read don't update them daily. I need something to fill the monotony of my boring ass job. its really rather inconsiderate of those people. no i'm not a hypocrite for saying that since i have like one person who reads my blog on a semi-regular basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I want to get to the point where i can buy most things i feel like i need or really want without really even thinking about how much it will cost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I am a really cheap person and never spend any money on myself except when i absolutely have to. The one exception is anything to do with an art project i happen to be working on at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Tomorrow i'm probably going to put another post-it in the supply room which reads "i know what you did last summer" its pretty damn corny considering that was the name of a horror movie that wasn't scary. but that's why i like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I wonder what it would feel like to punch someone in the face. I know it will hurt but i still want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I wonder what it feels like to be in a car that rolls or flips in the road or into a ditch. will it feel like just being in a moving car, or flying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I've always wanted to be able to fly. none of this hand gliding or parasailing shit, actually FLY. like a bird maybe. or even one of those crazy flying squirrels. i know they just glide but WHATEVER its still closer to flying than i'll ever get. doing it in a plane just doesn't cut it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I wish i could turn off people's msn names, a lot of them right now are totally lame and i don't even want to talk to the person cuz i hate their name so much. of course i would never say anything to them since i'm sure my name pisses people off at times, and yes i do put names up i know will piss people off to get back at them for pissing me off with one of their lame ass names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Have you ever sat and thought about all the things that just happened in your life that you never really noticed happened? i was watching a show that made me think of this. many people start off in a marriage saying they'll never do this or that and they really mean it and believe it. then with time, lots of time, it ends up happening. they didn't even realize it until its too late. then what do you do? its something that worries me about marriage. i see things about people's marriages that makes me think "doesn't that piss you off? i'll never let that happen, or go on, or go on without me saying anything." but then i think, i bet they said that to themselves too but it just happend. i mean you don't choose to let your "other" be the way they are. its interesting, sad, and worrisome at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I wish i hadn't agreed to take care of a co-worker's 3 dogs while he was away at mardi gras. he's paying me like 30 bucks a day and that's such a rip off to me. its going to be a lot of work and will cut into my sleeping time which is NOT cool at all. oh well its money and his dogs are really nice, plus he has satelite and xbox so i guess i can do that. and it gives me time to work on my new project IF I CAN EVER FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* People don't say "how are you?" and mean it enough. have you noticed how its like a scripted conversation?&lt;br /&gt;C0-worker: good morning how are you?&lt;br /&gt;You: i'm fine and you?&lt;br /&gt;CO-worker: good&lt;br /&gt;You: That's good!&lt;br /&gt;....and that's it. could you imagine the reaction you'd get if you just started pouring out your heart to someone who asked you that? No one expects to hear how the person ACTUALLY is. i think that would be funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I'm bored of this now, i'm sure i'll re-read it later and think "LAMEEEEE"....................................whatever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114058390729758899?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114058390729758899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114058390729758899' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114058390729758899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114058390729758899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-114040673076953317</id><published>2006-02-19T22:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-19T22:38:50.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Weekend</title><content type='html'>In november at my xmas party i won a pair of tickets to see the lord of the rings at the princess of wales theatre and a one night stay at the courtyard by Marriott hotel with a free breakfast. That was saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I elected to take a friend who loves lord of the rings probably more than i do. What a great idea!!! another plus about taking her is she knows toronto really well and we saved money by taking the subway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately we got lost on the way there so we only had time for a shower and then we had to leave for the show. so we took the subway a few blocks before the theatre and thought it best to walk underground to the theatre instead of outside since it was frost bite cold out.....we got lost. so, we came up to see where the hell we were. ok so we figured it out and we weren't off track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we start walking in the direction we THOUGHT was the theatre, we soon find out that we were walking in the opposite direction...we hooked up with a cab. because of the cab we made it to the theatre with ten minutes to spare. enough time for her to grab a quick smoke and to find our seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;none of us had any idea where our seats were so we went to some chick standing around telling people where their seats were. according to her we had to go to some other guy who told us to go ALL THE FUCKING WAY to the top...the balcony. we get up there and another person tells us where to go. so we go down there and can't find our seats. we make a hole GIANT row of people stand up so we can pass them. we get to the end FINALLY and say fuck it and go back up to one of the fucking morons who told us to go down there in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what does she tell us????? "oh yoru seats are up at the front on the first floor" HUH WTF DID ALL THOSE MORONS TELL US???? like 3 people all were not able to fucking read our godamed tickets. i'm convinced you have to be illiterate to work at the princess of wales theatre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well thanks to no one who works there except for the nice chick who told us we were in the wrong place, we found our seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over all the show was pretty great. I wasn't fond of some of the dialogue changes they made. but again i'm a diehard for the movies. this play was more true to the books which i haven't finished reading. i was however extremely surprised with some of the characters and effects they were able to pull off with just lights, pulleys, props, makeup and so on. very surprised!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy who played gandalf managed to piss off me and my friend. he was so annoying. at times he seemed to forget his lines...i don't know if he was pausing for dramatic effect, if so it was lost on me. and when he wasn't forgetting his lines he was literally saying every single line he has as fast as humanly possible. so fast in fact i had a rather hard time making out what he was saying. most times he really just ended up pissing me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guy who played gollum was annoying too. he looked like he was having multiple seizures all the time. HELLO did you not see the movies? gollum wasn't all fidgety like that, get a clue. you'd think these actors would research A BIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those annoying things aside it was a great experience. i've never been to a production like that and dont think i ever will again. and if i do i dont think i'll ever have such awsome seats...we were about 10 rows from the stage. it was pretty sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we left, walked to union station so i could see what it looks like, went back to the hotel and had pizza and ended up staying up way too late catching up and just talking. it was really great. not something we've done in awhile and something i've been missing. so on all levels it was a great weekend. i wish it wasn't so damn cold. that was bad!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114040673076953317?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114040673076953317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114040673076953317' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114040673076953317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114040673076953317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/nice-weekend.html' title='Nice Weekend'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-114005972876594423</id><published>2006-02-15T21:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T22:15:30.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fond Farewell...</title><content type='html'>About 2 or 3 weeks ago, i can't remember, i put a post it note up in the supply room on a cabinet door that simply said "what?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;over the next few days there appeared several other words on this little yellow square of sticky paper. things like "where", "when", "how". and various other words, some including french. don't even get me started on fucking french people!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today marks a sad day, someone took it down and threw it out. it lasted longer than my other two post its combined. something as simple as "what?" got so much attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well i've learned that the supply room is a good location and i intend on putting another post it there. I'm thinking one that says "do not look up" or maybe something that makes absolutely no sense at all like...."chairs and cars, you never know!" ok that one was lame but i only had two seconds to think about it. oh well i have all day to think about it instead of working. I've moved onto writing about painters. very hard. i don't know if i can do it. 485 sentences have to be written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i moved again today for the fifth time. this had better be the last. but this is by far the best spot i've had. i have a huge window all to myself and no one NO ONE can see my screen or sneak up behind me. so sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the past few days i have had to endure lunch ALONE WITH TALL CREEPY GUY. fuck it seems like the chicks of the 1pm lunch crew have ditched me. this is so not fair i hate TCG and i don't like talking to him at all. but i have to make small talk with him at lunch cuz no one else is there. i even read a magazine and totally ignore him when he's talking and he STILL talks to me like i care about what he has to say. i know it sounds harsh but you'd resort to rudeness if you had to deal with that guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And i'm pretty sure that him and no neck guy are secret lovers. they're always together. they sit beside each other in their cubicle thing. they go out together and get lunch pretty much everyday. they go everywhere together. i think they make mad passionate love to each other in TCG's car while "getting lunch".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as for my back its still getting worse. it feels like there's this ball in my ribs or something. sometimes it really hurts and sometiems i don't even notice it. i've tried stretching and even running to get rid of it but NOTHING IS WORKING. this sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-114005972876594423?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/114005972876594423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=114005972876594423' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114005972876594423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/114005972876594423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/fond-farewell.html' title='A Fond Farewell...'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-113993188320610801</id><published>2006-02-14T10:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T10:44:43.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>UGH</title><content type='html'>Last night was one of those nights where you just lay there trying with all your might to just fall asleep but your brain won’t let you. Your body is tired but your brain isn’t ready to sleep just yet. It was awful. I hate nights like that. You can’t make your brain stop thinking. I was really tired too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the many things that flashed through my mind was a question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever wish people would just give up on you so you weren’t continually disappointing them? I mean what do they expect from you anyway? I just think it would make things a lot easier. If they don’t expect anything from you, anything they do get is a nice surprise. And who doesn’t enjoy a nice surprise? I know I do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see myself more and more becoming one of those shut-ins that never really go out except when it’s essential. No friends, family once in awhile but basically no human contact. Sometimes I think that would be great. People really annoy me so much and often piss me off. Why are people so STUPID and ANNOYING?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have an anger problem. Seems like just about anything and everything can set me off. I get so mad, sometimes at stupid things. Some days nothing can get to me, others someone saying hello can piss me off. What’s with that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it’s the things I’ve left unsaid. I leave a lot unsaid. Both good things and things that need to be said but I don’t have the energy to say them and deal with the response that inevitably comes. I suppose it’s not really a good thing considering I could die at lunch time when I go out to buy something to eat. Think about the things you just don’t say you know you should but there’s some reason you don’t. Whether you don’t have the guts to say it or you don’t want to hurt someone’s STUPID feelings. I know I have left many many things unsaid with a lot of people. Some of it I would want them to know before I died, some of it I suppose could be left unsaid. But anything I don’t say whether positive or negative I still want to say. That’s the problem these days, people are way too sensitive. What’s with that? You can’t take the truth? I guess the truth is hard to hear, but you should hear it nonetheless don’t you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m the type of person who appreciates bluntness. Just be blunt with me. Don’t sugar coat it just tell me like it is. I don’t have the time or the energy to come up with different ways of saying something just so I can cater to your feelings. Ok so there are times when certain things need to be sugar coated but for the most part if you think about it, there really aren’t a lot of occasions. Could you imagine how much easier things would be if we didn’t have to sugar coat every little thing? It would be nice. Or if people didn’t take things so personally? Wow, now that’s my dream world for sure. That and me being married to my Brad Pitt…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and another thing what the hell is wrong with my back? I woke up with this really bad pain in my side and it hurts to walk. That’s just great. It’s always nice to get some mysterious pain from doing nothing. It had better go away I don’t have the patience for something like this today. Back problems are great, the ONE thing that can’t really be fixed ever. Thanks a lot god for giving us bodies that can’t be fixed, its not like I did something stupid and hurt my back IT JUST HAPPENED!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113993188320610801?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113993188320610801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113993188320610801' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113993188320610801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113993188320610801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/ugh.html' title='UGH'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-113963372581360008</id><published>2006-02-10T23:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T00:01:58.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Great Time</title><content type='html'>I've been taking my time with this post because i wanted to put some thought into and not just throw something out there like every other post i do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was my birthday on tuesday (the seventh) and the saturday before that..i think the fourth my bestest friend since forever had me over to her place to celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i am not the type of person that likes to celebrate anything about myself so i was a little uncomfortable but good intentions should never go unnoticed so i took her up on it. And besides i hadn't been to her new place which i felt bad about anyway so what more of an opportunity could i ask for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my day started out shitty by me deciding i would slice my thumb open and bleed all over the place. and you know now that i think of it if i had been watching myself doing what i did i would have been like WTF ARE YOU DOING? oh to be an outsider looking in. it was because of this that i realized i would NOT want to live without a thumb. it took me FOREVER to fucking have a shower after that. you really need your thumb for a lot of daily activities. i even had a really REALLY hard time buttoning up my jeans. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Moral of the story:&lt;/span&gt; Have a shower and THEN slice your thumb off!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway i finally made it to her place and was surprised at how nice it was. she lives in a basement appartment and i'd always heard of how shitty and crappy they are so i didn't really have any expectations other than it would be crappy. but it was SO nice. The only thing i could complain about is those fuckers upstairs. honestly who lets their kids just fucking jump up and down on the floor when other people are living below. how rude can you be? if it were me i'd be paranoid about that. though i think sometimes i'm overly considerate of other people. for example i never close a door unless i turn the handle first so i don't make that door closing noise, sometimes its loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided we would make sushi for dinner and sangria to drink. We ended up being very surprised we could actually make the sushi. normally we'd make my dad do it because we thought it was hard. but i guess its not as hard as we thought. that was fun, very time consuming though. But you don't really notice when you're drinking and talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to just talk. I'm not a big talker but drunk talking is the best. you have no inhabitions and you just say stuff you normally wouldn't say. What i liked the best about it is that we talked like we used to. I don't feel like we've done that in a long time, not since our high school days. it was just a good long ass talk that lasted for hours with breaks for drinking and the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed up late, drinking, talking, watching (i use the word watching loosely since we talked through the whole movie) movies.  the next day however was not so nice. of course i had to be sick. then on the way home i just had to go the wrong way and up some middle of nowhere road full of snow and drive into a fucking ditch. i don't feel AS stupid because the chick behind me did the exact same thing at the exact same time as i. All i have to say is thank god for the kindness of strangers. if it weren't for that guy in his truck pulling my little car out of the ditch i would have had to call a tow truck and who knows how fucking long that would have taken. plus counting the fact that i was on a road in the middle of nowhere. actually, come to think of it a lot of people stopped to ask if i needed a phone, or if they could just help. dont' get me wrong there were also a number of people who drove by slowly staring at our two cars sitting in the ditch, to those fuckers i say FUCK YOU AND I HOPE YOUR EYES SHRIVEL UP AND FALL OUT YOU BASTARDS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those two things considered i still had a great weekend and was made to feel like i was loved and someone special. it still made me feel uncomfortable but i really appreciated it and not a lot of people would open up their home to my drunkeness and free up a whole day just for me, what i want to do, what i want to drink, what i want to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thanks to my bestest friend who i really couldn't imagine not having in my life. I think i would feel empty and like i'm missing something. and i really would be missing more than words can express. Its funny how important people become to you in your life and you don't really even realize it until you sit and think or something happens.....nothing happend i just get really fucking bored at work and have nothing better to do.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113963372581360008?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113963372581360008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113963372581360008' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113963372581360008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113963372581360008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/great-time.html' title='A Great Time'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-113952712980744082</id><published>2006-02-09T17:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T18:18:49.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Always MOVING!!</title><content type='html'>Its been brought to my attention that i havn't posted in awhile so i guess i'll post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also just noticed that my last post was my 50th SO HAPPY 50TH TO MEEEEEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now down to bidnis: i was moved to another godamed spot, this is my fourth move in this godamed building. yes i'm annoyed. i hate unplugging all my computer wires and going in and out from under the desk. its annoying and something i'd rather not do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had to re-arrange some stupid cubicles that my desk was attached to so i was promptly moved out of the way. nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was on.....oh i guess it was on tuesday. so nice birthday present to me. i get to work to find all my shit not where its supposed to be. assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then today i was informed i could move back and to pick where i wanted to sit since there's a bunch more desks where my one desk once was. oh well i guess i can milk it for half an hour of not writing about nursing homes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ya you heard me...nursing homes. did you know that most people search about nursing home abuse? that's fucked up. no one really searched about finding a good one, they want to know about all the abuse that goes on in them. nice world we live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news i just realized today that i sit across the aisle from no neck guy. THANK GOD i can't actually see him from my desk. i'd get nothing done because i'd be staring at his absence of neck. poor guy, i wonder if he can turn his head or if he has to move his whole upper body just to look a little to the left. you know like those people who wear those wiplash collars. haha i'm laughing just picturing it. i'd feel pretty bad if he actually had some sort of condition that made his neck that way..........for a bit then i'd just keep staring. I CAN'T HELP IT. i need help! isn't that the first step...admitting you have a problem?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113952712980744082?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113952712980744082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113952712980744082' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113952712980744082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113952712980744082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/02/always-moving.html' title='Always MOVING!!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-113875192827405868</id><published>2006-01-31T18:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T18:58:48.350-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Down With Emotions</title><content type='html'>Have you ever wondered what life would be like without certain pesky emotions? I do! How about sadness. Wouldn't it be great if you could never get sad. You could remember great times with someone who is long gone with happiness and not miss them so horribly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about Anger? You could say something to someone without them going psycho on you and not even listening to what you have to say. This would also stop people from being so damn defensive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about being able to hear the truth without getting hurt? and just hearing what someone has to say and taking it for what it is and NOT a personal attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if we would be like robots or something. Maybe not since we'd still be able to love, and be happy. Do you think missing those emotions would make you happier? I think it would. I mean without those emotions why wouldn't you be smiling all the time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or what about feeling the need to give a fake smile? wouldn't it be nice if you could get away with not smiling when you don't feel like it? That would be sweet. I'm so sick of giving people fake smiles, but then i don't want to deal with the probing questions that inevitably come along, like "What's wrong?"...NOTHING does something need to be wrong just because i won't SMILE AT YOUR STUPID JOKE or something that isn't funny to begin with????????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it would just be nice to be able to turn certain ones off if i so wished. or to tell people to turn their annoying emotions off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aw my dad just came home with flowers for my mom...i wonder what the occasion is. Rarely does he do this so it makes me wonder. I've never gotten flowers before. I'm not saying i feel like i'm missing out but you know it would really give me the chance to actually USE the million vases i have laying around that i've made. I guess its not that its flowers but the act of getting someone something for no reason that is nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113875192827405868?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113875192827405868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113875192827405868' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113875192827405868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113875192827405868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/01/down-with-emotions.html' title='Down With Emotions'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-113851212615621611</id><published>2006-01-28T22:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T00:22:06.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Evening</title><content type='html'>Well lastnight i met with that old friend from high school. We'll call her KT. it was like we never left high school. i was surprised it felt just the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also really nice to talk to someone who's in the same place as i am. its hard sometimes when all your friends seem to be further along than you are. you just get left thinking what the fucking hell? where did i go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but KT and i get to say that together, i don't know its just nice to have that person who understands. all our friends are either in serious relationships, getting married, or have kids. we're sitting there going fuck marriage we don't even have boyfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately i've been feeling like all the fun times are over with. thinking of all the great times in high school and wondering why it all had to end just because high school did. people grow up and move on BUT I DON'T WANT TO DAMIT. i think to be an adult all the fun and life has to be sucked out of you, like its a prerequisite or something. there are some that have seemed to figure it out, but i sure havn't. i hope i do though. otherwise whats the point of living a life where you just go through the motions.  i don't even care if i'm happy, i just want to have fun once in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KT and i have both been feeling the same way. we decided we need to kick the fun up a notch. why not figure it out together? sounds like a plan to me. we'll see though. people always have a tendancy to say things they never end up doing. i don't really believe anything anyone says anymore until i see it happen. most times its all talk or good intentions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah, listen to me, depressing much? i think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck this&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113851212615621611?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113851212615621611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113851212615621611' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113851212615621611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113851212615621611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/01/nice-evening.html' title='Nice Evening'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14429669.post-113833431992728815</id><published>2006-01-26T22:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T22:58:40.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary!!</title><content type='html'>Today is my ONE year anniversary!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is one year to the day that i almost died. Some fucking asian dude almost ran me over with his van when i was crossing the street ON A WALK SIGNAL. it was actually really cool. less than a half a second longer and i would have been in the hospital. that asian dude would have SMOKED me. good thing i have cat like reflexes after a few beers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know what you're thinking i was drunk but NO i only had two beers WHICH i nursed. and nursing beers is no small feat considering warm beer is fucking SICK. it was at a light. the right side of the road had three lanes a left turning lane then two driving ones. the other side of the road had 2. so we're walking across cuz we have the little walking guy. when i get to the first "driving lane" i noticed there's a fucking GREEN LIGHT for them to start driving. then i went RUN!!!! so my friends didn't notice but i started running. that's when i looked to my right and saw him. THE ASIAN DUDE. he was motoring in his cool kid van. he didn't see me till i slammed into the side of his shitty van. i hope i dented it. well he slammed on the brakes. i stuck my hands out and that was the only part of me that actually made contact with the van. so the momentum of the kid van made me spin. then i slammed my knee into the ground causing me to rip my FAVORITE pair of jeans as well as get a cut but who cares abou tthe cut, CUTS HEAL BUT JEANS ARE BROKEN FOREVER!!!! i was so upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i got up and discoverd the rip which i was pissed about but other than the bloody knee i was fine. i'd had way worse from playing baseball so i was like lets continue to the bar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being the fact that its winter the school parking lot had giant mounds of snow we had to climb over. then of course large sheets of ice from those sunny days it melts. so we mangaged to make it over the ice mound and we're walking laughing about how i got hit by a van then lester takes a huge dive and lands on her ass hard. and i mean REAL hard. like so hard you can't even laugh cuz you can feel their pain. i still cringe when i think of it. she is REALLY lucky she didn't break her tail bone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so really if i hadn't looked over to my right i could be either dead, a cripple or maybe missing a limb, or broken something...i don't know but obviously a fucking asian dude in a kid van can't keep me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on another note today i decided to start my post-it war on the office. i only did two. i'm pretty sure only the one was noticed. on the one i put "look to your left" and there were cubicles to the left. i thought that was the funniest thing. and then when one of the 1pm lunch crew pointed it out to me she said "look what someone put, look to your left, there's nothing to the left i don't even get it" well that was the hardest moment. to not burst out laughing was so hard. the other one said "keep your left eye open" i know i know its stupid. but the thought of someone standing there staring at it thinking "is this supposed to mean something?" just cracks me up. even if no one ever does that the THOUGHT is what makes it so worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh ANNNNNNNNND i think no neck guy has decided to fucking join the 1pm lunch crew. what am i going to do? this time i was able to stare at the absence of neck  because he had his back to me. is there a NO NECK ANONYMOUS group i could join?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113833431992728815?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113833431992728815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113833431992728815' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113833431992728815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113833431992728815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/01/anniversary.html' title='Anniversary!!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-113823093747967751</id><published>2006-01-25T18:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T18:15:37.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Whistling Building</title><content type='html'>My building whistles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whenever it is really windy out a few areas of the building actually sound like someone is sitting there whistling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does it by my desk and in the lunchroom. there could be more places but those are the ones i'm in on a regular basis.I dont think i really need to say this but IT DRIVES ME FUCKING CRAZY!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we first started to notice it we were in the lunch room. one of the 1pm lunch crew thought another guy was sitting there whistling trying to make her believe it wasn't him. it was the funniest damn thing i laughed so hard at her. he was literally just sitting there eating or chewing and she was all like "i know its you". oh man its funny when shit like that happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113823093747967751?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113823093747967751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113823093747967751' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113823093747967751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113823093747967751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/01/whistling-building.html' title='The Whistling Building'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-113815416959678801</id><published>2006-01-24T20:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T20:56:09.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ALL THE RESTRAINT I COULD MUSTER!</title><content type='html'>OMG GUESS WHO I SAW TODAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup NO NECK GUY. oh man it was awful. here i was eating my lunch meeting some new hot additions to the company when along comes no neck guy with pizzas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was hard enough with my shitty lunch sitting there smelling fucking pizza. but then no neck guy is RIGHT AT MY TABLE. It took all the restraint i had to not stare at his missing neck. hopefully he thought i was just staring at the pizza and not his ABSENCE OF NECK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eat at 1pm for two reasons:&lt;br /&gt;1. Barely anyone eats at that time so its not so crowded in the lunch room. and i spend 8 hours at my desk so i'm not going to fucking eat there too.&lt;br /&gt;2. Eating at 1pm seems to make the day go faster if that's even POSSIBLE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But fucking no neck had to ruin it for me. soon as he came the new hot additions LEFT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention the fact that TCG has to keep eating at our time. No one really likes him and i wonder if he's really that oblivious or if he just ignores it since he has no friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But tomorrow i don't have to deal with it since i'm getting a free lunch because my cool boss is taking me out for lunch. we have to talk about a report that i have to write for my STUPID teacher.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113815416959678801?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113815416959678801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113815416959678801' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113815416959678801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113815416959678801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/01/all-restraint-i-could-muster.html' title='ALL THE RESTRAINT I COULD MUSTER!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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-14429669.post-113790858986807629</id><published>2006-01-22T00:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T01:06:14.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Going through the same shit!</title><content type='html'>Today I talked to a friend I had when I was in high school. We never really hung out after school or anything but the classes we had together were always full of laughter. And you know I really believe a life without laughter is a life not worth living. I mean could you imagine a life of no laughing? Not even when you see some little kid riding their bike in the street and falling?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems we are going through the same things at the same time. Wondering wtf we're doing with our jobs. Why the hell don't we have boyrfiends. What is the point of life. That kind of shit I'm sure everyone goes through but you never really have someone you can honestly say "I'm doing really shitty and I don't see the point".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really nice to hear that I'm not the only one feeling shitty about all our friends being in serious relationships, pregnant, engaged, or married. And I must say its very nice to have a friend who has never had a boyfriend like myself. Yes I have friends who have boyfriends and I love them. But a friend who has never had one like myself is a different story. They know what I'm going through, they're the same age, and so on. Your friends can only be so supportive because unless they're going through the same thing they just can't identify.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and this friend always say that we'll get together but I think this time I'm going to  be serious about it. For a couple reasons. One: because for some reason I just feel the need to help people I care even a little about. Two: I really don't have any local friends because my only local friend who happens to be the best friend I've ever had, has moved away to start a new life with her boyfriend. As I'm happy as ever that she has really in essence begun her life I can't help but feel bad because I am left behind and left out. it makes me wonder if this friendship will even last. Realistically how many people who are practically married keep single friends? They usually want friends that are attached so they can double date or whatever it is that couples do. They just can't bare to leave their "other" alone for two seconds. Sure I sound bitter but Fuck you all who think that since I've never had the chance to feel otherwise so really I don't know any better. I am happy for her and I wish her all the best. And I really wouldn't blame her in the end if she decided our friendship wasn't meant to be. People grow and people change. Have you ever noticed how people say "this will never happen" or "I'll never do that" and years later they do the very thing they say they'd never do? it blows me away. Am I the only person who sees this? I think I am. I don't take those kind of comments seriously anymore because at 21 almost 22 I just know that people really do change between the ages of 20 and 30 that you just can't keep the promises to yourself that you thought you could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to say that I would never hold a person to their promise they made years ago. But I'm totally the person that would&lt;br /&gt;1. Remember that promise when they don't.&lt;br /&gt;2. Hold them to it no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;3. Be pissed when they don't keep it. Because in essence that's lying and I can't stand people who lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess what I'm saying is I'm looking forward to rebuilding a friendship I once had. This will give me a friend who is local and I don't have to drive over 30 mins to see. Also I miss this person and would love to become real friends with her. Also I've decided I'm a terribly boring person who needs to get out more often. I never go out as I'm always watching a movie or TV or doing some stupid art project that ultimately gets thrown into a drawer or a box. it would be really nice if some smart marketing or business person came along and said "your stuff is amazing and I can sell it for tons of money. You'll have to quit your job and work on art stuff for the whole day." alas that is but a dream. And I suppose dreams are what they are to keep people going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow drunken posts are awesome. Good thing no one reads these stupid posts in the first place. If they did I would be embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on another note I'd like to bid farewell to a fellow blogger I will truly miss. Video X is leaving us to comment only. I truly enjoyed her blog entries and I felt like I was getting to know a person I wish I knew in person. She is someone who no matter what has fun. I feel like if I was around her I would have a great time. I'll miss hearing about her fun times and her hard times. You can't have the good without the bad. I'll miss hearing about her drunken times as well. Its strange how you almost feel like a friend to someone you've never even met. For all I know she could be some crazy man in an abandoned warehouse stealing wireless internet making shit up for no reason at all except he's psycho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;obviously I don't feel that way but it could be true. Despite the age difference she is someone I think that I would totally be friends with. Though I'm not sure she'd be friends with me since I'm young and older people don't tend to be friends with younger people for some reason. Ugh blah I'm drunk don't pay attention to the person behind the curtain....................................!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm just sad and I don't know why and its been that way for awhile. What will fix it? Who will fix it? Can it be fixed? Is it just family life that's dragging me down? Will I always be this way? If so, do I want it to be that way for the rest of my life? I mean now adays people are living to 100. Could you imagine living for 100 years unhappy? Then, what would make me happy? Will finding someone make me happy? Would I be happier alone? Of course I don't think I'll find someone I mean obviously there must be something wrong with me if I'm so close to 22 and haven't even had a boyfriend....My parents have been together since they were 18. I'm so far behind. Then I hear my mother complaining about not having grandchildren. Which is weird since I have a brother who is 3 years younger than me...Does that mean she thinks I am her only hope? So sad. I really can't wait to be an aunt. I can have the fun of a child without the responsibility. AWESOME. I can't wait to give the kid toys that are extremely loud and annoying to bug my bro and his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one thing that is annoying is that i type too fast for this stupid blogger. its really stupid and they should get on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;holy LORD this post is long. meh who cares not like anyone reads it anyway. VX is the only one who really comments and now she's leaving................I'll miss you and if I never get to talk to you again I really hope all goes well for you in your life and nothing but great and amazing things happen for you! Listen to me you'd think I was losing a close friend or something. Bah...I get too attatched..I SUCK!! I'M GOING NOW... and i commend you if you made it to the end of this horribly long post!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14429669-113790858986807629?l=gdcser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/feeds/113790858986807629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14429669&amp;postID=113790858986807629' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113790858986807629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14429669/posts/default/113790858986807629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gdcser.blogspot.com/2006/01/going-through-same-shit.html' title='Going through the same shit!'/><author><name>RocksAndChairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16346120143979387118</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></feed>
