<?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-30994421</id><updated>2012-01-30T02:35:54.811-08:00</updated><title type='text'>**the R33L story**</title><subtitle type='html'>"I'm not biased....I'm just right"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-4383859945095605155</id><published>2007-05-03T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T06:44:54.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My new favorite quote. That I stole, rewrote and edited.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So basically its mine...but not. yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"It's people like you that make me further recess from the festering cesspit of humanity. Just shut up and quit proving your idiocy to the rest of the world." - some comment on a blog (that I cut, edited and changed...a bit.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;"After all, the great majority of complainers are uneducated dolts who lack the big-picture perspective to care about anything beyond themselves - if they really had any smarts, they'd be CEO's themselves!" -another great quote from a blog comment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-4383859945095605155?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4383859945095605155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=4383859945095605155' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/4383859945095605155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/4383859945095605155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-love-you.html' title='I love you.'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-6972128535473281696</id><published>2007-04-25T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T15:20:09.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pigs Are Flying...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...off of The View, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://tv.msn.com/tv/article.aspx?news=260038&amp;GT1=7703"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;http://tv.msn.com/tv/article.aspx?news=260038&amp;amp;GT1=7703&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who called it?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-6972128535473281696?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6972128535473281696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=6972128535473281696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/6972128535473281696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/6972128535473281696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/04/pigs-are-flying.html' title='Pigs Are Flying...'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-2137375319536012405</id><published>2007-03-29T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T19:41:02.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks for making me a Fighter. (Even if you didn’t do anything else good for me)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; A lot of people can sit down and say that the way they are now is because of someone else.  Seems almost cliché in a way.  You almost &lt;em&gt;expect&lt;/em&gt; someone to answer a question of “why are you the way you are’ with the response, “because of so-and-so”.   But getting down to the real reason you are the way you are, the real situations behind it are rarely ever discussed.  I’m under the personal opinion that most people don’t even know anymore.  That they just assume they’ve blossomed because of someone else because &lt;em&gt;everyone else says so&lt;/em&gt;.  But at what point does that phrase really become a cliché?  At what point does that become an &lt;em&gt;excuse&lt;/em&gt;? &lt;br /&gt;  Its been said that women after breaking up with someone will later feel like they’ve grown, and that the speculation is that they feel the need to have a reason for ending the relationship or a reason for why the relationship ended.  I’m sure that a lot of this is true, and I’m also sure that that’s why the ever increasing statement of “But I’ve learned so much” is ringing even more loudly in our ears.  But if you’re not learning everyday, then what’s the point?  My point?  It’s just not that simple.  If you can’t really sit down and figure out a real tangible example of WHY that relationship changed you, then you are not changed by the relationship.  You are changed because of the need to change.  Because if you are a different person, why would you need them anyways? This my friends, is a true female thinking process.   And that is what has prompted my post today. &lt;br /&gt;  I feel personally that I am most definitely different from the way I was even a year ago, not only from life itself and the general gradual changes that every normal person makes, but also from my relationships.   You see, I was a person that didn’t give you the time of day if I didn’t find you fascinating.  Casual dating wasn’t in the cards for me, it didn’t’ suit me.  And I didn’t have time for it.  If I was really enamored by your presence? You would probably get a date.  But wait, let that not fool you into thinking I dated a lot.  Quite on the contrary.  And here’s why, it takes A LOT to make me enamored.  It’s not easy. I’m picky.  But because of my standards, ending my past relationships were harder than say, the average “so long see ya” relationships.  Because I had ALREADY invested so much…..even if only in my head.  These relationships truly changed me from the meek, quiet, little girl into the total pain in the @$$ that I am now.  And while it may seem odd to others that I think of my past relationships occasionally, it’s only because I treasure the “me” that they brought out.  Because I would never have become “me” without them.  As sucky as they might be, lame as they were, bad decisions they might have been…it doesn’t matter.  Because after the heartache, the trials, the suicidal thoughts and tire slashings. (Just kidding btw)….I realized how much they gave me…even if it did cause a few bitter moments.     I embrace the tragedy of dating, because I’ve gained so much more in return.&lt;br /&gt;  So I portray to you, my thoughts, on my past love lessons learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My first real dating experience was with someone I spent 4 years of my life with.  It was my first experience with real love.  Not teenager mushy gushy love.  I thought, like most 19 year olds, that we would be together forever.  Alas, considering I’m engaged to marry the most fabulous man I’ve ever met, it didn’t work out.   The main problem with this relationship was that he was all wrong for me.  Completely and totally in every way wrong.  And I was miserable.  But I didn’t realize that the problem was me, I didn’t realize that I was angry and sad because there was no past experience to show me what that felt like.  So doomed I was to stay in a bad relationship for far too long….until it bit me in the butt.   Looking back now, I would and should have ended it if not in the first year, by the 3rd.  I knew by then it wasn’t working, but its called denial.  And at 20 years old…..denial is just part of the game.   The biggest lesson I learned from this relationship was to recognize when something isn’t right.  To recognize when your feelings are screaming out to you, “STOP STOP”.  It was what I needed to be able to go on and date other people without fear of getting stuck in something that wouldn’t allow my emotions to smack me upside the head.  I also became much more self aware.  This is something that I’ve actually gotten compliments on.  And I have to give credit where credit is due.  It came from this.  Our breakup consisted of several things, but one that sticks out in my mind.   I was promptly told pretty much everything that was wrong with me.  It took awhile for that to quit stinging so much…but later it showed me how to evaluate myself.  Something I’ve noticed not many people do.  Having your faults thrown in your face can be catastrophic to some.  But handled correctly and its priceless information. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My next relationship started out of odd luck.  Had my previous employers not set that ball rolling, it probably wouldn’t have happened.  At first it was great, I had just ended the previous relationship a few months before and was still a little sad.  This person made me laugh harder than anyone on the planet.  I still to this day think he should be a comedian.  It’s what I needed at the time, even though I knew it wouldn’t last very long.  My problem here was that I was bound and determined to make an impact on this guy.  I was going to do it no matter what.   Didn’t happen.   And I hung on in desperate hopes that I could show this guy how to grow up.  Didn’t happen.  It wasn’t that I hung on out of hopes of staying together.  Like I said, I knew from the beginning it wouldn’t last long.  It only lasted about 5 months. But I was so determined to help him in the way that I felt someone had helped me.  But it didn’t work.  And I ended up wasting my emotional energy and time on someone that didn’t care that I was.   Lesson?  You don’t owe anyone, anything.   I didn’t have to be that compassionate.  I didn’t need to be.  Why did I waste my time on a bad thing?  Pride?  Silly.  I should have cut and run when it was time.  And so my valuable lesson was learning to leave when things got rocky.  And also getting a good dose of “you can’t change them”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  A few months and thousands of online dating emails later, I met someone that I just KNEW was it.  Sadly I’m beginning to think that that is the first thing to doom a relationship….although those of you that are pro-I just knew it! Will hate that I said that.  Of all my relationships, this one taught me the most important lesson of all.  You can’t compromise who you are for another person.  Don’t think you’ll be ok changing yourself because you won’t.  And if there’s ever a time to be proud of who you are and what you believe in, then now is the time.  &lt;br /&gt;  We were total opposites trying to accommodate each other.  Both pretending to be more like the other one in a vain attempt to ignore the obvious.  It wouldn’t work.  And even if he hadn’t gone crazy (long story) it wouldn’t have worked.   The false personalities would have faded and all hell would have broken loose.  I was made to feel bad for being me.  And while I hate people that pretend they have no choice in who they are, I’m talking about your core essence.  Not an attitude problem or a choice you could have made differently.  But the true inner soul of who you are.  A person that can make you feel bad for that is not someone you need to be around.  It’s a sad person that hasn’t yet figured out what I figured out by the time I was 22, (he was 28)  And while it took its toll, and caused me serious insecurities for awhile, it faded as all things do, and the need to truly remain myself took over.  I’m more proud of me now than I ever have been before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So I say to those of you with lost confidence from relationships, sit down and think about the situation.  Don’t come up with cookie cutter society examples of growth.  Look deep into your personality and come up with a GOOD reason to feel glad he’s gone.  You shouldn’t loose confidence, you should gain it.  Because with each passing relationship that goes awry, there is a story that tells you more about yourself.  It’s a metaphorical mirror, and while like I said before, faults handed to you aren’t easy, but rarely in life are you handed such a gift.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I embrace my past because without it I wouldn’t have the future that I’m about to have.  One with the most extraordinary person that I know, which continues to love me for me and also continues to hand me my faults.  Not in vicious ways, but in ways of understanding that in order to change and better yourself, you have to be given a reason to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-2137375319536012405?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2137375319536012405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=2137375319536012405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/2137375319536012405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/2137375319536012405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/03/thanks-for-making-me-fighter-even-if.html' title='Thanks for making me a Fighter. (Even if you didn’t do anything else good for me)'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-5969285092800478195</id><published>2007-03-27T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T14:33:22.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Profound....Emailed to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My Fellow Americans:&lt;br /&gt;  As you all know, the defeat of Iraq regime has been completed.  Since congress does not want to spend any more money on this war, our mission in Iraq is complete. This morning I gave the order for a complete removal of all American forces from Iraq. This action will be complete within 30 days. It is now to begin the reckoning.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;  Before me, I have two lists. One list contains the names of countries which have stood by our side during the Iraq conflict. This list is short. The United Kingdom, Spain, Bulgaria, Australia, and Poland are some of the countries listed there.  The other list contains everyone not on the first list. Most of the world's nations are on that list. My press secretary will be distributing copies of both lists later this evening.   Let me start by saying that effective immediately, foreign aid to those nations on List 2 ceases immediately and indefinitely. The money saved during the first year alone will pretty much pay for the costs of the Iraqi war.  The American people are no longer going to pour money into third world Hell-holes and watch those government leaders grow fat on corruption.        &lt;br /&gt;Need help with a famine?&lt;br /&gt;Wrestling with an epidemic?&lt;br /&gt;Call France.        &lt;br /&gt;   In the future, together with Congress, I will work to redirect this money toward solving the vexing social problems we still have at home. On that note, a word to terrorist organizations. Screw with us and we will hunt you down and eliminate you and all your friends from the face of the earth.        &lt;br /&gt;Thirsting for a gutsy country to terrorize?&lt;br /&gt;Try France, or maybe China.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;   I am ordering the immediate severing of diplomatic relations with France, Germany, and Russia. Thanks for all your help, comrades. We are retiring from NATO as well. Bon chance, mes amis.         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;   I have instructed the Mayor of New York City to begin towing the many UN diplomatic vehicles located in Manhattan with more than two unpaid parking tickets to sites where those vehicles will be stripped, shredded and crushed I don't care about whatever treaty pertains to this. You creeps have tens of thousands of unpaid tickets. Pay those tickets tomorrow or watch you're precious Benzes, Bimmers and limos be turned over to some of the finest chop shops in the world. I love New York.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;   A special note to our neighbors. Canada is on List 2. Since we are likely to be seeing a lot more of each other, you folks might want to try not pissing us off for a change.   Mexico is also on List 2. President Fox and his entire corrupt government really need an attitude adjustment. I will have a couple extra tank and infantry divisions sitting around. Guess where I am going to put em? Yep, border security. So start doing something with your oil.   Oh, by the way, the United States is abrogating the NAFTA Treaty - starting now.   We are tired of the one-way highway. Immediately, we'll be drilling for oil in Alaska - which will take care of this country's oil needs for decades to come. If you're an environmentalist who opposes this decision, I refer you to List 2 above: pick a country and move there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;They care.       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;  It is time for America to focus on its own welfare and its own citizens. Some will accuse us of isolationism. I answer them by saying, "darn tootin."         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;   Nearly a century of trying to help folks live a decent life around the world has only earned us the undying enmity of just about everyone on the planet. It is time to eliminate hunger in America. It is time to eliminate homelessness in America. It is time to eliminate World Cup Soccer from America.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;   To the nations on List 1, A final thought. Thanks guys. We owe you and we won't forget.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;   To the nations on List 2, a final thought: You might want to learn to speak Arabic.         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;God bless America. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thank you and good night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;***Please note**** I didn't write this.  It was sent to me.  I just LOVED it.  So this is my way of forwarding it on, without having to annoy everyone on my email list.  Ciao!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-5969285092800478195?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5969285092800478195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=5969285092800478195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/5969285092800478195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/5969285092800478195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/03/something-profoundemailed-to-me.html' title='Something Profound....Emailed to me'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-8139718474951999078</id><published>2007-03-01T18:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:00.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning: Female In Mirror Less High Maintenance Than She Appears</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/ReeKlBTJsqI/AAAAAAAAACg/FQ-Fluq56Go/s1600-h/briadsk.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5037147076845744802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/ReeKlBTJsqI/AAAAAAAAACg/FQ-Fluq56Go/s200/briadsk.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is it about getting married that brings out the Bridezilla talk? And I'm not talking about me, I'm talking about everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not more than a couple days after I announced I was getting married people started throwing out the, "Hey! Don't be a bridezilla!" speel.&lt;br /&gt;While I knew this was going to happen….I didn't expect it from almost everyone. And I'll tell you what's frustrating. The pure fact that because you are instantly labeled as a potential "Bridezilla"…ANYTHING you say or do WILL be held against you in a court of law.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm serious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And its bogus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;For example. I've been throwing myself pretty heavily into three things.&lt;br /&gt;1. Location&lt;br /&gt;2. photographer&lt;br /&gt;3. videographer&lt;br /&gt;Those three things are what matters the most TO ME, everything else will work itself out..and I don't really care. But those THREE THINGS, I'm ANAL about. Its not bridezilla…its just that those things are most important to me.&lt;br /&gt;That being said. I have 2 ½ of them finished. ½ you say? What ½? Well I have the wedding location….but not the reception location. Because of this my focus has been pretty heavily set on calling ANYWHERE that has a possible facility I could use….so far? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Everyone is booked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Except for a couple of places…&lt;br /&gt;now out of this couple there is one that I can't get ANY info on. I've called, left three messages…talked to several different people who continually send me to the same voicemail of the same moron that apparently never learned how to use A) his voicemail or B) the phone. I've never received a call. Not one.&lt;br /&gt;And because of this I'm getting quite frustrated. I expect people who are HEAD of sales, in major companies (iow hotels) to have the decency to at least return a phone call….within at least 2 days. I guess this guy wasn't raised by the same code of manners that I was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And what happens? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;People are saying…don't be a bridezilla.&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;When your food at a restaurant is late or cold or BAD or has a bug in it….do I look at you and say, " Now, don't be a foodzilla!"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;When you buy a sweater and they don't take off those security tags and you have to go back to the store AGAIN …..do I say…"Now..don't be a shoppingzilla!".??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;When the credit card company or the bank messes up a statement or charges you more than you expected to pay…do I say, "Now, don't be a moneyzilla!"????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;NO.&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Because you are simply responding to POOR SERVICE. It has nothing to do with the fact that you are being out of line….and simply because the people that are being PAID to do a certain job, aren't doing it, and you're upset.&lt;br /&gt;And when did it become wrong to be upset with something like that? People in this country get upset when a red light takes too long….so if I want a simple phone call returned….I don't think its asking too much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Its not Bridezilla.&lt;br /&gt;Its freakin customer service.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I haven't even yelled at them on the phone, or cried, or burned down any buildings or set defenseless animals on fire. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I SEE NO BRIDEZILLA ACTIVITY HERE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Repeat after me: When planning a function or paying large amounts of money…shoot. Even small amounts of money, it is OKAY to try to get what you want. It is OKAY to demand a certain amount of respect and decency. It is OKAY to be upset when something that was promised wasn't receieved. When you pay for something, you dang well better get what it was you paid for. Otherwise, what's the big frickin deal about free enterprise??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I suppose this post will only feed the bridezilla monkeys more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-8139718474951999078?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8139718474951999078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=8139718474951999078' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/8139718474951999078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/8139718474951999078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/03/warning-female-in-mirror-less-high.html' title='Warning: Female In Mirror Less High Maintenance Than She Appears'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/ReeKlBTJsqI/AAAAAAAAACg/FQ-Fluq56Go/s72-c/briadsk.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-3872413632259261339</id><published>2007-02-28T05:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:01.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Problem with Society #437</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/ReWJoRTJspI/AAAAAAAAACU/WVie_9u8B_A/s1600-h/love.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036583083215270546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 168px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px" height="253" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/ReWJoRTJspI/AAAAAAAAACU/WVie_9u8B_A/s320/love.bmp" width="158" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw this posted as a bulletin on my Myspace page. And while I generally try to ignore these stupid things…I couldn’t help but look. It may have lowered my respect level a bit…but its 6:40a.m….and I have nothing else better to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered another problem with society. I doubt I’ll need to explain it once you see the post….so here it is…with my comments following.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;17 signs you love someone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(yeah, you already know this is gonna be goooood)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SEVENTEEN:You look at their profile constantly.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…sounds more like a stalker to me. I could elaborate..but I thought I would stop there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SIXTEEN:When you're on the phone with them late at night and they hang up, you still miss them even when it was just two minutes ago.&lt;/strong&gt; I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;nfatuation anyone? While I can agree that missing someone on the phone can happen….it also usually happens to 14 year olds who aren’t allowed to drive, or are not talented enough to sneak out of the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FIFTEEN:You read their Texts and IMs Over and over again.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This isn’t love. This is lack of a life. Get a grip for crying out loud! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FOURTEEN:You walk really slow when you're with them.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How is this love? Maybe they have an impairment that causes them to walk slow? Did you ever think of that? Did that ever cross your mind? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great. Now your discriminating against people with walking disorders. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fantastic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is why our suicide rate has increased to involve 13 and 14 year olds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" Yeah, I'm thinking of killing myself....when I walk around and stuff she doesn't walk slow with me...I don't know...maybe I don't have enough cologne on?" &lt;em&gt;(reference to that further down)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THIRTEEN:You feel shy whenever they're around.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What if you feel shy around EVERYONE? Are you just one big Carebear then? Are you a hippie? Or does this mean jack when it comes to love?&lt;br /&gt;I’ll take door number 3, Bob! Honestly, who writes this stuff? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ELEVEN:When you think about them, your heart beats faster but slower at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;What does that mean? I can’t even make fun of it. It makes no sense. At least give me something to work with!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TEN:You smile when you hear their voice.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I smile when I hear people’s voices that I DON’T like. Why? Because I’m thinking villainous thoughts that involve them, a chicken and a large canyon full of cheese…….&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NINE:When you look at them, you can't see the other people around you, you just see him/her.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sounds like she’s fat to me. &lt;em&gt;*shrug*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EIGHT:You start listening to slow songs while thinking about them.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;hehehehehe..this made me giggle. That’s just gay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SEVEN:They're all you think about.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This only means that your world is very, very small. The advice I would give you is to get a life, maybe a nice hobby? Like airplane crafting or stamp collecting. I hear that rollerskating is making a big comeback...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SIX:You get high just from their scent.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe if they smoke pot all day. If your getting high off of a scent that means one of two things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. you are dating a 14 year old boy&lt;br /&gt;2. you are dating Puff Daddy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FIVE:You realize you're always smiling when you're looking at them.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now you love an ugly person.&lt;br /&gt;Great.First the handicap people, now ugly people.&lt;br /&gt;When will you stop?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FOUR:You would do anything for them, just to see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;This is called…whipped. And guys, don’t think you’re the only ones that deal with “whippedness”. Oh no. The only difference is that females are pretty much whipped the moment you speak….which only goes to prove that we are, in fact, a ridiculous species. &lt;em&gt;(the feminists are going to love that one)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THREE:While reading this, there was one person on your mind this whole time.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You’re right. How did you know?&lt;br /&gt;Al Gore….leave Tipper and go away with me. Together we can discuss your invention of the internet! Maybe, we’ll even throw a party with Dan Quayle and Dick Cheney!....wow. Think about it! Spelling bees! And whoever loses gets to go hunting with Dick.I don’t know about you, but I’m excited already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ps. You would have made a crappy president. Better than Bush is not a huge compliment. You still would have been crappy. Don’t let it go to your head. Your good on TV…that’s about it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TWO:You were so busy thinking about that person, you didn’t notice number twelve was missing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That or its your clever way of letting people know you can’t count worth a crap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ONE:You just scrolled up to check &amp;amp; are now silently laughing at yourself.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not. I'm laughing at you. For actually taking precious time from your life to post this crap. Your life must really suck. I bet no one loves you.&lt;br /&gt;How sad that must be to know that there is no one to walk slow with you when you break your foot, or smile at you for no reason. No one to develop lung cancer from breathing in your horrid cologne or to make you feel better about your counting disorder. Its a cruel world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NOW MAKE A WISH. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Yeah, I wish you would all stop posting this crap. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your clogging my personal space.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(I've decided to list some ACTUAL ways to know you love someone....coming soon.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-3872413632259261339?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3872413632259261339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=3872413632259261339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/3872413632259261339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/3872413632259261339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/02/problem-with-society-437.html' title='The Problem with Society #437'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/ReWJoRTJspI/AAAAAAAAACU/WVie_9u8B_A/s72-c/love.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-6470665519934648669</id><published>2007-02-09T04:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:01.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Make Me Want to Punch Babies.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RcxruyKFYwI/AAAAAAAAACI/srj_trXvTRE/s1600-h/940126639C24996E7FA1BE0561CC0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029513335348224770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RcxruyKFYwI/AAAAAAAAACI/srj_trXvTRE/s200/940126639C24996E7FA1BE0561CC0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Seriously. Our country is so ridiculous, sometimes I just want to walk down the street randomly punching people and saying, "YEAH! THAT'S for being an idiot". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I go to MSN's homepage this morning...I usually glance at the news this way. Granted, its not the best news source, but it works and is in a format I find only &lt;em&gt;slightly&lt;/em&gt; annoying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What do I find this fine morning?? A HUGE headline saying: "Why We Loved Anna Nicole"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;EXCUSE ME? Who loved Anna Nicole? Really perverted 14year olds with nothing better to do? Ancient old men who's only last hooray was looking at her playmate of the year magazine??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Because I sure as heck know that I didn't *love* Anna Nicole! &lt;strong&gt;SHE WAS AN IDIOT&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And from what I can tell from our pathetic little society? Everyone else thought the same thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She was the material of millions of jokes...and we want to pretend suddenly that she was some huge star? (ring a bell Marilyn?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Look, I'm sorry she's dead. I bet we're going to find out she OD'd or something retarded, but thats beside the point. Leave it to US to suddenly fawn all over someone because they DIED. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Hey! NEWSFLASH PEOPLE!! We ALL die! So where is the front page highlight about everyone else that no one cared about until they died??? Or is it just for fat, overhyped, stupid blondes.....oooh waaaait! How thoughtless of me! I guess we did the same thing for the no talent Marilyn Monroe. *blah*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Look. I don't care how she died. But to suddenly "love" her after all this time???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;PLEASE! I can think for myself thank you, I don't need MSN to remind me that some cracked out fake blond with huge boobs died and i'm a bad person because I don't jump on the "I can't think for myself so I have to listen to what the news says" bandwagon. Respect for the dead only goes so far. But does NOT change my feelings about the person. I'm pretty sure she was born an idiot, and we all know that she died one. So WHAT?  I'm more concerned about the fact that she procreated and might have passed on some of her stupidity to another living being.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have bigger fish to fry than some washed up "D list" actress (that makes me gag to even say it) who was only famous because she was a gold digger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;C'mon people! Grow a brain! And quit pretending you love people that you will forget about the moment someone else dies.....or the moment Britney becomes pregnant again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-6470665519934648669?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6470665519934648669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=6470665519934648669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/6470665519934648669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/6470665519934648669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/02/you-make-me-want-to-punch-babies.html' title='You Make Me Want to Punch Babies.'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RcxruyKFYwI/AAAAAAAAACI/srj_trXvTRE/s72-c/940126639C24996E7FA1BE0561CC0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-9079629259117457706</id><published>2007-01-31T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:01.652-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm An Idiot.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RcGOuQMT_wI/AAAAAAAAABY/96Dhuz0CNqo/s1600-h/zc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026455584393920258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RcGOuQMT_wI/AAAAAAAAABY/96Dhuz0CNqo/s200/zc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: *looking at clock* (sigh) Crap. Its 12:30am and i've got that hair appointment tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J: yep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: I don't want to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J: yes you do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Ok, I WANT to go, but not really. I do..but not that early.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J: *gives me the look*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;~~~~20 mins later~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: I've gotta find my card...I can't remember the exact time my appointment is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J: *ignores me*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Oh wait! I put it in a blog...so I wouldn't loose the info..(rolls eyes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;~~~~5 mins later~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Oh look! Its at 9:45am instead of 8:30am! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J: Thats good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Wait....is tomorrow thursday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J: yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Oh jeez. My appointment isn't until Friday. I'm worried for no reason. Tomorrows only THURSDAY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J: *laughs*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me think it was tomorrow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J: well you seemed to have it figured out...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Me: You see how my lame attempts at organization only lead to chaos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I blame it on the fact I had to get up at 4:30am this morning.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-9079629259117457706?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/9079629259117457706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=9079629259117457706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/9079629259117457706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/9079629259117457706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/01/im-idiot.html' title='I&apos;m An Idiot.'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RcGOuQMT_wI/AAAAAAAAABY/96Dhuz0CNqo/s72-c/zc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-7832024346952979253</id><published>2007-01-30T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:01.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>T-Do '07  Part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb_bPQMT_tI/AAAAAAAAAA8/zfvs0hheFi4/s1600-h/Acclaim_Images_0018-0609-1106-2737_5679748.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025976764259892946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb_bPQMT_tI/AAAAAAAAAA8/zfvs0hheFi4/s200/Acclaim_Images_0018-0609-1106-2737_5679748.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well you could say i'm on a roll. OR i'm just so sick of feeling blah that I finally kicked my OWN butt and made some appointments. So here is a list of upcoming things on my list that I get to cross off:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. 9:45am Hair appointment on Feb. 2nd&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Not a time I really like, but with my schedule, I didn't have a choice.....AND I go to one of the more popular hair stylists here in town...so yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. 8:30am Vet appointment for Sadie Michelle Katt on Feb. 3rd&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;She needs her shots and they're only open until noon on weekends. And i'm not dragging a freaked out cat to the vet before work. No way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. 8:40am Eye appointment on Feb. 14th.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yes. I'm aware of the time AND the fact its Valentines Day. But if I don't start somewhere I'll never have contacts, and i'll go insane(er). Lookin into Lasik...anyone have any opinions? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Things I'm beginning that can't quite be crossed off yet....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. Starting weird diet of soup only for lunch, and something reasonable for dinner. Hoping to begin the work out again soon. Stay tuned....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Final Thoughts:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I don't actually know how much I weigh. I guess I should weigh myself before I start this diet so I know when i've lost the desired amount of weight. Or I could use the method i've used in the past.....and just wait until my pants are loose again. After Feb. 14th, I will update my list with the crossed off and updated items. I'm sure there will be more to add. So if I picked one of the ones you were hoping to "kick me in the butt" about....just wait...there's more...oh so much more.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-7832024346952979253?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7832024346952979253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=7832024346952979253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/7832024346952979253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/7832024346952979253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/01/t-do-07-part-ii.html' title='T-Do &apos;07  Part II'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb_bPQMT_tI/AAAAAAAAAA8/zfvs0hheFi4/s72-c/Acclaim_Images_0018-0609-1106-2737_5679748.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-196332879196146343</id><published>2007-01-29T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:01.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2007 To-Do Part I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb70aAMT_sI/AAAAAAAAAAw/CxOZXYA-1jg/s1600-h/0018-0504-3010-2704_SM2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025722961757470402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb70aAMT_sI/AAAAAAAAAAw/CxOZXYA-1jg/s320/0018-0504-3010-2704_SM2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;While sitting at home doing nothing and feeling blah, as I have felt for the last week- this is no doubt being brought on my hormones, but still- I began to list several things that I intend on doing sometime in 2007. Do not confuse this with New Years Resolutions. I don't do those. They pretty much are stupid. And its not New Years anymore. This is more of a to-do list....and i'm making it public so you all can kick my butt when you haven't seen me cross many things off. I'll update it periodically. Theres no real rush to finish anything other than I want to have them all done by the end of 2007. But if a really long time goes by, and I haven't updated....its up to you to send a kick in the butt my way. This is the responsibility you have for being my friend.....and reading my blog. *evil laugh*Those of you that know me, know that I have no self motivation at all. Its gone. I dont' know where it went....but its not coming back. So its up to you to ride my tail about getting stuff done. Challenge me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE LIST:&lt;br /&gt;1.Hair appointment&lt;br /&gt;2.Contacts&lt;br /&gt;3.Fix my huge teeth.&lt;br /&gt;4.update my cats shots&lt;br /&gt;5.do something artistic again&lt;br /&gt;6.have my nails done&lt;br /&gt;7.have my eyebrows waxed...(ouch)&lt;br /&gt;8.move my mice into their own room...(this only works with number 9)&lt;br /&gt;9. move&lt;br /&gt;10. fix my car&lt;br /&gt;11. lose 10llbs. ( I doubt I really need to lose 10lbs..but aim high...and..you know)&lt;br /&gt;12. finish cleaning my dining room &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Theres no doubt I'll add to this, as well as take some things off once i've done them. Pick one you like....and don't let me forget about it until its DONE!(this is excluding #8,9-thats really out of my control right now)&lt;br /&gt;Ciao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-196332879196146343?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/196332879196146343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=196332879196146343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/196332879196146343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/196332879196146343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/01/2007-to-do-part-i.html' title='2007 To-Do Part I'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb70aAMT_sI/AAAAAAAAAAw/CxOZXYA-1jg/s72-c/0018-0504-3010-2704_SM2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-9110647263913611537</id><published>2007-01-29T21:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:02.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This just in...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb7TAwMT_rI/AAAAAAAAAAk/P7Zt3ZasUNc/s1600-h/coupleonswing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025686244082056882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb7TAwMT_rI/AAAAAAAAAAk/P7Zt3ZasUNc/s320/coupleonswing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Today J informed me that he loved me " a million, bagillion, zillion, frillion times"...&lt;br /&gt;"frillion"&lt;br /&gt;I did not make that up. But I am hoping that Websters calls soon. Cause that is a great word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-9110647263913611537?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/9110647263913611537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=9110647263913611537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/9110647263913611537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/9110647263913611537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-just-in.html' title='This just in...'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/Rb7TAwMT_rI/AAAAAAAAAAk/P7Zt3ZasUNc/s72-c/coupleonswing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-8690282908271731457</id><published>2007-01-10T05:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T05:48:04.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsession</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I get asked a lot…”why are you so obsessed with mice?”  And I suppose it’s a fair question, really.  It is an odd thing “around here”….but this isn’t the first time I’ve been involved in something that is considered “weird around here”.  Heard of winterguard?  I didn’t think so….at least those of you that know me know about it, but probably only because you know “me”.  The funny thing is that both winterguard AND mice breeding is a big deal in other areas of the country and/or world.  Does this mean I was born in the wrong state? Possibly.  Or maybe I’m just one of those people that are ok enough with being weird, that I can spread these new things to new areas without worrying about what people think of me.   The people that really know me and enjoy being around me are probably people that like weird (or as my boyfriend says “quirky”) people.  I can’t speak for them, I’m only guessing.  The saying, “it takes one to know one” is probably pretty accurate when it comes to weird people…or rather “quirky” people.  We seem to flock together.  We don’t necessarily have the same “quirks”, but we each have quirks nonetheless, so we manage to find each other.  And that is as deep as I’m getting today.  Its 7:15am and those of you who know me even slightly well know that I’m not meant to be up before 11am.  So bear with me here.  If anything is unreadable on this post, I blame it on sleep deprivation. &lt;br /&gt;So why am I “so obsessed with mice”?&lt;br /&gt;Well frankly I don’t think I’m obsessed.  I think it appears that way to people who find fancy mouse breeding odd.  But do you look at dog and cat breeders and ask, “Hey, why are you so obsessed with dogs?”  Of course not. why? Because it’s common.  I don’t expect fancy mice breeding to become common anytime soon, or probably ever.  And I wouldn’t want it to be, for a couple of reasons.  1. That would just be waaaay too many mice.  2.  I like being odd. If it wasn’t odd anymore I think I would lose some interest.  Its fun to be a part of something that isn’t being overdone by the population of America.  And in that regard, I am a lone duck.  And I love it.&lt;br /&gt;So the truth is, I really don’t know why I enjoy mice so much.  Maybe it’s because I don’t want the huge ordeal of breeding larger animals. Maybe I’m obsessed with small things.  Or maybe I just really love animals, and this was the most feasible thing for me to do, in my situation.  I just don’t know.  But I will say this, breeding mice is not just putting a couple mice together and waiting for babies.  There is a lot of genetics research involved, there are true traits and qualities that you breed for and there are even shows where people show mice. (Show mice are closer to the size of a rat, but they are still mice)  Why is one person interested in one thing while another is interested in something completely different?  I don’t know, and I don’t really care.   The truth is I just love doing it, and it doesn’t matter what others think, because I’m an independent person capable of making my own decisions without approval from everyone I know.  Man, how boring would that be???&lt;br /&gt;So hopefully you’ll someday want a pet mouse.  And maybe you’ll get it from me. (Mine are better anyways. *wink*) and then you’ll be glad you knew this weirdo chick that was obsessed with mice.  And hey, the weirdness doesn’t stop there.  What other girl do you know that likes superheroes and can have a conversation about Star Wars while carrying her Dooney and Bourke bag? . . .&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t’ think so.&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the weird people in your life.  They make it more fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-8690282908271731457?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8690282908271731457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=8690282908271731457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/8690282908271731457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/8690282908271731457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2007/01/obsession.html' title='Obsession'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-4791858459285724984</id><published>2006-12-28T11:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:02.259-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mail Room Blues</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RZQih4hoKlI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Dp5b3uw1aKA/s1600-h/mailman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5013670250674661970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RZQih4hoKlI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Dp5b3uw1aKA/s320/mailman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is it that causes us to be so patient with one person and so rude to another? Is this another case of “smell” (referring to the scientists claim that people are actually attracted to a persons smell rather than they themselves….look it up) or are some people just able to push our buttons more than others?&lt;br /&gt;Here at work we have a normal mail lady that is just awesome. She’s friendly, she does her job, that’s it. Then we have the fill-in who is a witch. And I just told her off today. . . For the second time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-4791858459285724984?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4791858459285724984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=4791858459285724984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/4791858459285724984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/4791858459285724984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/12/mail-room-blues.html' title='Mail Room Blues'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RZQih4hoKlI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Dp5b3uw1aKA/s72-c/mailman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-3147025767618815055</id><published>2006-12-20T16:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T16:03:22.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take THAT msn</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So I just finished reading MSN’s reviews of the best 10 movies this year.  And it has compelled me to write my own.  I’m sure that most of my list will be different than the other 10 reviewers lists….partly because I think most critics suck and partly because some of the artsy films they listed as the best, I just flat out haven’t seen.  So with that in mind, here is my list of the top 10 best movies this year, and a list of the worst.  Then, out of fairness, I have compiled a list of movies that may (or may not) be on the top ten list, I just haven’t seen them yet, but I have high hopes.  Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TOP 10 BEST MOVIES (that I’ve seen):&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright so in a year with so MANY  bad , bad, bad movies, it was hard to think up 10 movies that were entitled to the title “Best”.  So I’ve only got 8, with a few that I have HIGH hopes for being on that list once I actually see them. (These are in no particular order of awesomeness, just a random list)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Casino Royale:&lt;/strong&gt;  First of all this was the best James Bond movie I’ve seen yet.  This tops every James Bond movie ever made in my opinion.  What makes it better is that I was the biggest of skeptics and a huge Brosnan fan. I still loved it.   They (for once) didn’t sacrifice the story for the shootings and explosions and you finally get a better grasp of who and what made Bond the way he is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Inside Man:&lt;/strong&gt; Oddly enough, I didn’t see this movie until I rented it.  And I rented out of a need to see an action movie or at least a movie that wasn’t just fluff.  And amazingly and much to my great surprise, that’s exactly what I got.  This movie was fantastic and had you guessing from the beginning.  Maybe I’m biased, I just love those kinds of movies, but the acting was headed by a fantastic cast and the storyline was one of originality but based out of the same old bank robbing story line that we’re used to.  A great twist on the usual “heist movies”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Prestige:&lt;/strong&gt; For reasons I’m currently unable to figure out, no one liked this movie except me.  And I LOVED it.  Its probably one of the one or two favorites I have this year.  Fantastic cast, great story, new idea that hasn’t been done to death, tricky plot that keeps you guessing ( I told you I liked those kinds of movies) and Hugh Jackman is just hot.  *shrug*  Its true.  I can’t lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thank You For Smoking:&lt;/strong&gt;  Wow.  This is probably one of the best movies this year hands down, and while it got its kudos early on, it seems to have been forgotten about lately.  This movie was an awesomely done satirical look at the way lobbyists work today or rather, just the way society is today. There is so much more to this movie than is what is on the outside.  You just have to see it.  A definite must see.  And who can deny that Aaron Eckhart deserves an award for that performance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Man Of The Year:&lt;/strong&gt; I couldn’t help but love this movie solely for the fact that I agreed with basically everything that was said.  Robin Williams movie about a TV comic that is voted to be President of the USA had me cracking up.  And not just because he’s funny.  Finally a political movie that isn’t just bashing Bush, the environment or fast food.  Finally a political movie that makes fun of POLITICS, and not just the people that are involved in them, but rather the group as a whole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mission Impossible III:&lt;/strong&gt; The first Mission Impossible movie to have me really engrossed since the first one.  Finally a throw back to the smart movies and not just the ‘blow-em-up” films.  But the person to give the credit to is not Tom Cruise but instead Phillip Seymour Hoffman, who rules as the best villain I’ve seen in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Talladega Nights :&lt;/strong&gt;  Thank you Will Farrell.  Thank you for finally making another funny movie.  Its not that I’m tired of your other funny films, but I’d like to start quoting something new.  There’s only so far that the “whore Island” joke can take you.  It was almost refreshing to see another funny Farrell movie.  And Sasha Baren Cohen wasn’t so bad either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;V For Vendetta:&lt;/strong&gt;  In my opinion, this movie well lived up to the hype it caused.  Funny, sad, true, scary, and touching don’t even begin to cover all of the emotions that this movie creates.  More fictional than I believe could ever really happen, it still reaches out to you on the “what if” level.  Not to mention that the story is something new, and that always gets my attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And now for the few that I hope will make this list but as of yet, I have not seen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The Departed&lt;br /&gt;Apocalypto&lt;br /&gt;Babel&lt;br /&gt;Brick&lt;br /&gt;Borat&lt;br /&gt;Children of Men&lt;br /&gt;Hard Candy&lt;br /&gt;Pans Labyrinth&lt;br /&gt;The Pursuit of Happiness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And now for the WORST films I’ve seen this year:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually had to narrow it down because the list was getting to long.  And while there are several movies out there that I wouldn’t even need to see because I’d just KNOW they were bad, these are the ones that I was tricked into thinking could be at least enjoyable. They weren’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;American Dreamz:&lt;/strong&gt;  The MOST disappointing movie this year.  No plot, horrid acting, worst couple of hours of my life.  Who let this movie out?  Was it a case of bad editing? Did the head of the movie industry owe this director a favor? Was his life threatened? There is no real reason why this movie should have sucked as much as it did.  Who knows how many careers were flushed with this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Crank:&lt;/strong&gt;  This movie is just gross. Don’t watch it.  Its stupid.  Had so much potential that was thrown away just so 14 yr olds could get off on seeing a big bad movie. BLAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Benchwarmers:&lt;/strong&gt; Wow.  It wasn’t even funny.  Not once.  Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Firewall :&lt;/strong&gt; Maybe Harrison Ford should retire?  The only thing that was done well in this movie was his facial expression.  Which never changed. Ever. The whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16 Blocks:&lt;/strong&gt; This just stunk.  Its not worth words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;World Trade Center:&lt;/strong&gt;  Ok. If you’re going to make a movie about a national tragedy.  And you’re going to make it so soon after it happened……THEN MAKE IT GOOD.   For crying out loud this was the worst thing that could have happened to that tragedy.   You couldn’t concentrate on the plot because you were doing one of two things:&lt;br /&gt;sleeping&lt;br /&gt;in awe of how lame the movie was.&lt;br /&gt;And who casted Nicholas Cage????  Don’t do that.  Ever again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Have you seen these and you agree? Disagree? want to add to the list? Just leave me a comment.  I like hearing opinions!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-3147025767618815055?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3147025767618815055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=3147025767618815055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/3147025767618815055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/3147025767618815055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/12/take-that-msn.html' title='Take THAT msn'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-1971616916858174525</id><published>2006-12-04T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T14:18:02.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I've Learned Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RXS64V_3LYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bSITD83zIEA/s1600-h/21762_students_read_270.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004830563055906178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RXS64V_3LYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bSITD83zIEA/s200/21762_students_read_270.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. Pantyhose were actually made to be burned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Its not a feminist movement. They just suck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. I will never get a new phone. Its not in the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;cards for me. I called Dionne, she said no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. If you dress nice, you do get attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;But its usually older, married men that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;are gross.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. People believe only what they want to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;believe. Show them evidence, they'll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;show you an Oprah special. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;5. Is it just me? Or did Ellen blatantly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;rip off Oprah's holiday give-away?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And finally....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;6. If global warming will fix the weather&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;right now....then I say lets all go buy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;some aerosol hairspray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-1971616916858174525?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1971616916858174525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=1971616916858174525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/1971616916858174525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/1971616916858174525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/12/things-ive-learned-today.html' title='Things I&apos;ve Learned Today'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_u7HfkcQTpF4/RXS64V_3LYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bSITD83zIEA/s72-c/21762_students_read_270.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-7616378435845079301</id><published>2006-12-01T14:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T14:43:36.152-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Blunders</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here at work we have this big nativity thing in the front lobby, with every character present except for Santa himself… and this little boy about two seconds ago walked by and said to his Dad…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Daddy looky! Its baby Noah!”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I about died.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-7616378435845079301?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7616378435845079301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=7616378435845079301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/7616378435845079301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/7616378435845079301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/12/baby-blunders_01.html' title='Baby Blunders'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-3154956519939810074</id><published>2006-11-27T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T11:09:08.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flushed Away Manages to Float</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4085/3783/1600/flushed_away_ver3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4085/3783/200/flushed_away_ver3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What can I say? I've been on a movie binge this week. There are still a couple more out there that I'm hoping to see before they leave the theatre....*fingers crossed*.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So my first attempt at seeing Happy Feet actually is what caused me to see "Flushed Away". It was one of those movies I wanted to see..."someday"....but had no really reason to see it post haste. However, sparing you the story, I ended up seeing Flushed Away instead of Happy Feet. (But I've seen both now, see Happy Feet's review below)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I was ok with this, because I did want to see it, so I went into the theatre in a bit of a neutral mind setting. (mind you this is the best way to do it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;People who love Wallace and Gromit will love this movie. I think regular folks will enjoy it as well. Maybe its because I love mice? I don't really know. But it was cute and entertaining without being 4 hours long. This is a great grown up kids movie. In other words, grown ups will love it as much as kids do. Which is a huge relief to those parents out there that have Barney lovers in their household. (and don't tell me you love Barney, I know the truth)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Basic premise is that Roddy (the main mouse) gets flushed down his owners toliet when another mouse tries to take over. He then attempts to find a plan (like all kids movies) to "get back home"....when all he learns in the end is that he loves where he is now. Sound like every other kid movie you know? Probably. But it still manages to pull it off. At least mice aren't over done like Penguins right now. Its as classic as "good vs. evil" its the same premise as everyother movie but still just as enjoyable. I recommend this movie for all ages. I know a 4 yr old that loved it, so theres your proof. My only complaint? It wasn't Pixar. Oh well. You can't have it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Rating: B+&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Thoughts?: see this before Happy Feet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-3154956519939810074?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3154956519939810074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=3154956519939810074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/3154956519939810074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/3154956519939810074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/11/flushed-away-manages-to-float.html' title='Flushed Away Manages to Float'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-2345825602817860636</id><published>2006-11-27T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T18:02:40.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty Porpoise Penguin Propaganda..(oh yeah, and some dancing)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4085/3783/1600/happy_feet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4085/3783/200/happy_feet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If you haven't guessed it already, this review is about the new movie "Happy Feet". While in amazement last week that it was still number one over the new bond...I'm still in a bit of amazement. Yeah, its a cute movie, cute songs, kids will love it. I actually liked it too. But I have to ask...Whats with the penguins??? Do we really not have any other acceptable animals to film? Just because "March of the Penguins" was hurrahed by every famous person you could find, doesn't mean we need another penguin movie. *sigh* oh well. On to the review.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Pros: I thought the movie was cute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;They used well known songs (think Moulin Rouge without the hysteria)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The Amigos are well worth the $8 to get in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Cons: The movie could have been cuter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The singing could have been better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The propoganda will swallow you whole and spit you out crying like a little baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Why is it that Hollywood needs to be on the lobbist kick? They're here to ENTERTAIN US, not to make us believe in something....ok...I think of Forrest Gump and stand corrected. Who didn't want to be a better person after seeing that? I digress....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The movie was good, I would own it. And if you can get past all the OBVIOUS B.S. thats being thrown at you, you'll like it to. Kids, fortunately, won't get it...or at least not all of it. I'd say wait until it goes to a smaller cheap theatre or if you have a great surround system, rent it. Worth seeing, but not worth being number 1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Rating: B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Last Thoughts?: Go watch the new bond. It deserves to be number 1. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-2345825602817860636?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2345825602817860636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=2345825602817860636' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/2345825602817860636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/2345825602817860636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/11/pretty-porpoise-penguin-propagandaoh.html' title='Pretty Porpoise Penguin Propaganda..(oh yeah, and some dancing)'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-6269698363768745643</id><published>2006-11-20T18:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T18:48:50.588-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shakin, Not Stirred ~ But Still Brilliant</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/4085/3783/1600/10491/casino_royale_ver3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/4085/3783/200/737374/casino_royale_ver3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So I'm back to my old blogging roots. What first got me started, the good ole movie review. With my lack of anything interesting to say lately I figured I might as well go back to helping average people be smarter at the theatre. Today's flick? "Casino Royale" the newest of new James Bond Films.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Premise? The beginning. Think of Batman Begins, if you will. Its basically starting over with the James Bond Era. New Bond, New story lines, BETTER movie. (thank goodness) While I was as skeptical as everyone else about how this movie would turn out without Brosnan, I will still more than anxious to see it and see how it would come about. I'm glad to say I was more than pleasantly surprised. I'm not a huge Daniel Craig fan...and I felt that he lacked a bit of "sexiness" that was needed and was oh-so-perfected by Pierce Brosnan...I was wrong. While I still don't find him the most attractive of male actors, he definitely has more of a sizzle to him than he did before. (Thank you Marvin Campbell) He really should be sending him some flowers or something. No other movie could have made him look that good.....and he's still not that attractive. I'll leave it to you to figure out my circular statement. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Story? Again, goes to the beginning before Bond was "Bond 007". Shows you he is human, and shows you events in his life that cause him to become the man we've (my age group) grown up to know and love. It was the perfect mix of wit and romance - without being sleazy (think of "Die another Day") and perfect mix of action and suspense - without being green-screened to death (think "World is not Enough") Its a guy/girl movie at its best. Both get something they want without leaving the theatre talking about who counted the most car explosions or naked boob shots. (Those of you poo pooing my last comment are more than likely 14yr old boys who shouldn't read my blogs anyway - you won't get them- just stop now and go play with your PS3..we all know you waited outside for 3 days to get it.) Sometimes less is more. And this is the case. Story heavy without being boring it carries you on a twisty thrill ride of unexpected events that even I was sometimes surprised at. Craig manages to actually make himself believable as not only a lover but a completely kick @$$ dude. Which is something that Brosnan never "quite" got.&lt;br /&gt;I totally recommend it. You can even take a date to this one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;P.S. The leading lady is probably one of the best looking in a LONG time, and I never say things like that. I didn't even need to see her boobs to figure it out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;RATING: A-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;THOUGHTS: So far this fall, the best movie I've seen aside from "The Prestige". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-6269698363768745643?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6269698363768745643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=6269698363768745643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/6269698363768745643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/6269698363768745643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/11/shakin-not-stirred-but-still-brilliant.html' title='Shakin, Not Stirred ~ But Still Brilliant'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-2393601877891509112</id><published>2006-11-10T13:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T19:44:52.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Politicrite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/amer.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="131" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/amer.jpg" width="225" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We have entered into a political conundrum.&lt;br /&gt;On one hand we have the party that feels the need to have the right to do anything it wants regardless of who it affects.&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand we have the party that cares above and beyond what is rational for every living thing that exists.&lt;br /&gt;Problem?&lt;br /&gt;They’re the same party.&lt;br /&gt;Figure that one out folks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-2393601877891509112?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2393601877891509112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=2393601877891509112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/2393601877891509112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/2393601877891509112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/11/politicrite.html' title='Politicrite'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-5207649242990607404</id><published>2006-11-09T15:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T13:35:54.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiztastic</title><content type='html'>Sorry its been awhile. I was preoccupied.&lt;br /&gt;Here's some recent funness from my last crazy escapade. I made up a quiz for J.&lt;br /&gt;Here are the results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quiz:&lt;br /&gt;1. If you had to be a fruit, what kind of fruit would you be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A. an orange, cause you peel off the skin and i'm sweet underneath.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RESPONSE:&lt;/strong&gt; I failed to explain to him that I already think he is a fruit...LOL JK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Finish the sentence: I sometimes wish I was ______?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A. a millionaire already&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RESPONSE:&lt;/strong&gt;  I like that answer.  Go positive thinking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If  you won the lottery what is the first thing you would buy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A. another lottery ticket&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RESPONSE:&lt;/strong&gt; Incorrect.  The correct answer would have been something more along the lines of "something expensive for Tamaira" or "a car for Tamaira" or even "something ridiculously expensive that Tamaira doesn't need".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You love Tamaira more than anything because?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A. "she doesn't take sh*t and knows how to give it back"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RESPONSE:&lt;/strong&gt; I dig it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Tamaira loves J more than anything because?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A. "I'm a rockstar"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RESPONSE:&lt;/strong&gt; hold up there cowboy,  lets not get carried away....."rockstar" might be putting it a bit...uh....wrong.  However, I dig that confident thinking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't he adorable?&lt;br /&gt;(he's gonna kill me for this)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-5207649242990607404?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5207649242990607404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=5207649242990607404' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/5207649242990607404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/5207649242990607404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/11/quiztastic.html' title='Quiztastic'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-116017023367533882</id><published>2006-10-06T14:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Option #4</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/toilet-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/toilet-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;In my humble…okay, not so humble, opinion there are three types of people in the world.&lt;br /&gt;1. the kind that barf in the bathroom and then tell no one because they are scared to admit it was them.&lt;br /&gt;2. the kind that barf in the bathroom and then tell someone, but act like they just discovered it.&lt;br /&gt;3. the one that barfs in the bathroom and then tells someone and apologizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am option #4. Yes, you are correct, there wasn’t an option #4. If we were giving out cookies for observation, you’d get a big frosted one. ( that was sarcasm by the way, and notice how I spelled out “by the way” instead of “btw”?? I digress….) I, as I was saying, am option #4. First I’d like to point out that I’ve never actually barfed in any bathroom in public, but for those of you that catch on quicker than most people you have already figured out that my lame attempt at an analogy had nothing to do with barfing anyways. It has mainly to do with responsibility and somewhat to do with what you view as “important”. Let me explain: Those of you that are option #1, you really had no need to take responsibility for what happened. At least people like option #2 told someone about the barf, YOU didn’t. You just left the crime scene like a hit and run……a “barf” and run so to speak. ( I know. I’m hilarious.) That or you were just too wimpy to even deal with the situation. And I have a hard time figuring out how you’ll ever handle anything if you can’t even handle a little vomit in the porcelain. Option #2 people aren’t really all that bad, at least they take some responsilbility for what happened, however they’re just a little bit too worried about what people think of them. Option #3 people are like Chiefs fans, they love everything they do, and aren’t ashamed to be proud of everything they do….even if they lose…oops! I mean…even if they do something not worthy of much “praise”. Option #3 people are good enough because they are fans of themselves and they don’t really care about what John Doe thinks of their vomit, HOWEVER, option #3 people probably would love to compare their vomit to John Doe’s (to see who’s is better) should the need, challenge or boredom ever arise. *snicker*&lt;br /&gt;So as I stated before, I am option #4.&lt;br /&gt;Which one are you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-116017023367533882?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/116017023367533882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=116017023367533882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/116017023367533882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/116017023367533882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/10/option-4.html' title='Option #4'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115991378062069941</id><published>2006-10-03T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.684-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's 4pm,  Do You Know Where YOUR Delinquent Is?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/photo-phone-book-6.jpg "&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/photo-phone-book-6.jpg " border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I’d like to think that I’m a reasonable human being. And a reasonable female in a society hell-bent on having nothing but feminism running rampant. However, being my moral and ethical self, I have a line that I draw when it comes to “screwing with me”.&lt;br /&gt;I can handle the dirty joke, if its not so extreme that it would offend even Ted Bundy. TV shows and movies don’t usually bother me, and it takes a lot to really offend me in general. But people who do stupid things because they either lack the intelligence to think of something else or because they lack the ability to do anything else, really really annoy me. Case in point: Yesterday, while answering the phone *at work* I get a long distance phone call and when I answered it at first there was no one there so I hung up. The second time they called back ( 30 seconds later) I answered, ran through the whole “hello? HELLO??” thing, and was about to speak when I heard someone speak. Again, I said “Hello?” thinking maybe it was a bad connection. And that’s when I decided that answering the phone was overrated. The guy on the other end of the phone began talking in a dirty, phone sex, sorta way…lets just say I’d love to tell you what he said but it wouldn’t be appropriate for ANYONE of ANY age to read. I hung up. What fixed the problem was that the THIRD time he called back, I had the security guard answer it.&lt;br /&gt;*click*&lt;br /&gt;No more of that guy.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what it is that causes some people to be so crass or rude or so unbelievably stupid and immature. Maybe that paint chips thing has more merit than I thought. *hmm*&lt;br /&gt;Next time, a word of advice. Don’t just eat the chips, drink the whoooole gallon.&lt;br /&gt;It saves some resources for the rest of us that aren’t pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;~peace out~ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115991378062069941?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115991378062069941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115991378062069941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115991378062069941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115991378062069941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/10/its-4pm-do-you-know-where-your.html' title='It&apos;s 4pm,  Do You Know Where YOUR Delinquent Is?'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115990517403163063</id><published>2006-10-03T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Awful Truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/COUPLE2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/COUPLE2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I wish I was talking about how bad brown looks with black, or how leggings should be banned permanently, but alas, I’m not. I’m talking about the fact that men do not, and will not ever “get it”.&lt;br /&gt;I have mainly guy friends, so guys please don’t take this personally, but you just don’t’ get it. Many of you realize this and are more than willing to say out loud, “I don’t get it”. But for the rest of you…..please take note.&lt;br /&gt;1. Its not that we are so encompassed by flowers that the only way we have a fulfilled life is by sniffing one every week. Its not that we love chocolate so much that if you don’t buy it we’ll go into a deep depression and not eat for a week. And honestly, we could probably care less about how many stuffed animals you get us, because it’s not about the stuff. It’s about the thought. I’m going to give you a moment to process this, because it’s probably blowing your mind right now. It doesn’t matter if you buy me a dozen flowers or one, it’s the fact that during your day, you stopped and wondered what I would want. The mere fact that I crossed your mind is what pleases us so. Not the fact that you noticed that daisy’s were in season. And those of you that are sitting there with smug looks on your faces going, “yeah right, like she doesn’t want a dozen roses.” Ooookay, here’s the deal. Lets use some common sense, of course a dozen roses are really cool, But that doesn’t mean that just because you get one or two, she’s going to dump you and run off with Raoul the Gardner….unless he’s rich - and then sorry - your out of luck…..&lt;br /&gt;*kidding*&lt;br /&gt;2. Of course we don’t want to be dumped. You wouldn’t either (especially if it was for Raoul the Gardner) but we also don’t want to be stranded, embarrassed, written to, stood up or mocked. What I’m talking about is of course, the break-up. (Sorry Raoul)&lt;br /&gt;Look guys, its going to be hard any way you do it. There isn’t some magical way to not make it suck, I wish there was, but there isn’t. But if being a big jerk is your way of trying to deny the fact that you’re feeling a bit guilty for hurting someone, then you need to grow up, and quick. It may be true that you don’t want to be with that person anymore, but you can still feel bad about it. But what’s happening is that your becoming defensive with yourself, and instead of handling it in a way that will at least get you some self respect as well as respect from the other person, your acting like a total ass. (Pardon my French but some words just don’t cut it) Leaving sticky notes, disappearing into thin air, standing someone up, hurting someone to make them break up with you, and embarrassing someone to the point of break-up are just many of the kinds of relationship ending tactics that I’ve either heard about, seen or experienced. Its not rocket science. And you’re not the only one feeling bad. So stop being selfish, suck it up, and just do the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;3. The toilet seat. Lets just all admit that it’s a retarded issue. But let me take a moment to explain why girls want the seat DOWN. Ok first of all, if I’m only talking about me, I want the seat down because my cats will sit in it if I don’t, and then they will get all of my clothes wet. That being said, lets talk about the majority of other people who don’t have cats that act like idiots. Women for the most part want the seat down because they are creatures of “tidying up”. The toilet seat people make the seat have a lid and therefore in women’s minds the lid is supposed to be down. (Because why would you make a lid if you never use it? Right?) Also, if you leave it up it looks kinda gross, c’mon guys you know what gets on that seat. I also like to sit on mine (with the lid down of course) to do my makeup, like a chair. Now here’s the thing, guys complain that they have to lift the seat. Well so do I, well sorta, I have to lift the lid. So you see? We both have to lift something, and in the end, the bathroom looks better. So quit your whining, after all, your “big macho men” right? What’s a little toilet seat going to hurt you?&lt;br /&gt;*wink*&lt;br /&gt;4. *drumroll* An HONEST explanation of why we take so long. Ready guys? Here it is. The REAL reason. Its not that we want to look good for you, although we do, but the real reason is that we have to look so amazing that no other girl will compare. So that not only are you blow away by our Cindy Crawford-esque fabulousness. But that so will every other…ready for it?....girl. Yep that’s right. I bet you thought I was going to say guy. Nope, its girl. Not a typo. We not only want to look better than every other girl in the room, we HAVE too. Dumb? Oh absolutely. We agree. That, however, doesn’t change a thing. You see, girls have the jealous, stab each other in the back, say you look fine when you look hideous - tendency that just never really goes away. And when you know every girl is spending three hours in the bathroom, you obviously have to spend at LEAST that long. So you see, it adds up. What you want to find is someone not threatened by other women that wants to look fabulous in a reasonable amount of time. The amount of time Noah took to land the ark is not an acceptable answer. Ladies, lets try to come to a truce here. At least limit it to an hour?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got any other ideas for things that drive the opposite sexes crazy? Let me know! Leave me a comment! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115990517403163063?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115990517403163063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115990517403163063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115990517403163063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115990517403163063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/10/awful-truth.html' title='The Awful Truth'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115758035502082369</id><published>2006-09-06T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>50 Reasons Why Civilization is Doomed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/WakeUp5BB755D.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/WakeUp5BB755D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So this started out because my fabulous "J" sent me to a site that had started listing reasons why they thought civilization was doomed. It was mostly funny, but I decided to start my own. Because I just do things like that. So here's my list of just 50 reasons why civilization is doomed. If you have others I'd love to hear them, post me a comment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;1. THE ABSENCE OF ABSOLUTES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. CELEBRITIES&lt;br /&gt;3. LAWYERS&lt;br /&gt;4. LACK OF RELIGION&lt;br /&gt;5. EXTREMISTS&lt;br /&gt;6. MTV SPRINGBREAKS&lt;br /&gt;7. PLASTIC SURGERY&lt;br /&gt;8. PEOPLE THAT BELIEVE THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND THEM.&lt;br /&gt;9. PEOPLE WHO CAN’T SPELL CORRECTLY. THIS INCLUDES NETSPEAK.&lt;br /&gt;10. THE MEDIA&lt;br /&gt;11. MICHAEL JACKSON&lt;br /&gt;12. GAS PRICES&lt;br /&gt;13. OUR LACK OF COMMON SENSE&lt;br /&gt;14. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.10000reasons.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;REASON #330&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;15. ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION&lt;br /&gt;16. VANITY&lt;br /&gt;17. ACCEPTANCE OF EVERYTHING FOR FEAR OF OFFENDING SOMEONE.&lt;br /&gt;18. TURKISH BATHS&lt;br /&gt;19. RED TAPE&lt;br /&gt;20. LACK OF RESPONSIBILITY&lt;br /&gt;21. DR SPOCK&lt;br /&gt;22. POLITICIANS&lt;br /&gt;23. STAR TREK&lt;br /&gt;24. BRITANY SPEARS&lt;br /&gt;25. EXCUSES&lt;br /&gt;26. LACK OF INTEGRITY&lt;br /&gt;27. BAD DRIVERS&lt;br /&gt;28. MISSOURI&lt;br /&gt;29. BLUE EYELINER&lt;br /&gt;30. THE RETURN OF LEGGINGS AS A FASHION STATEMENT&lt;br /&gt;31. REALITY TV&lt;br /&gt;32. THE FRENCH&lt;br /&gt;33. "AIRPORT SECURITY" (it's in quotes for a reason people)&lt;br /&gt;34. TERRORISTS&lt;br /&gt;35. OUR AMAZING ABILITY TO SYMPATHIZE WITH TERRORISTS&lt;br /&gt;36. OUR EVEN MORE AMAZING ABILITY TO JUSTIFY THEIR ACTIONS&lt;br /&gt;37. SOAP OPERAS&lt;br /&gt;38. SELF TANNER&lt;br /&gt;39. ARKANSAS&lt;br /&gt;40. CELL PHONES&lt;br /&gt;41. SCANDELS&lt;br /&gt;42. DE-SENSITIZATION&lt;br /&gt;43. THE FIRST AMENDMENT&lt;br /&gt;44. POLITICAL CORRECTNESS&lt;br /&gt;45. BOLOGNA&lt;br /&gt;46. TABLOIDS&lt;br /&gt;47. HYPOCONDRIACS&lt;br /&gt;48. 867-5309&lt;br /&gt;49. MOVIE REMAKES&lt;br /&gt;50. TELETUBBIES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;If you have questions about why something is on the list, leave me a comment and i'll do a special blog about why its dooming civilization.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"&gt;~peace out~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115758035502082369?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115758035502082369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115758035502082369' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115758035502082369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115758035502082369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/09/50-reasons-why-civilization-is-doomed.html' title='50 Reasons Why Civilization is Doomed.'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115697482427120365</id><published>2006-08-30T14:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Only a Green Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/greenlight-1728.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/greenlight-1728.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Do you ever get into one of those moods, the kind that makes you start thinking waaaay more than you should? And everything you think about is kind of “deep”. Well that’s the mood I was in earlier today while driving to work. It sounds funny to tell this story now, because I’m not really in that mood anymore, but at the time it was almost like an eye opener.&lt;br /&gt;I was driving along in my car, doing the same mindless things I always do while going to work. (Yelling at drivers, making sure nothings in my teeth, and generally driving way to fast) when I got stuck behind an extremely slow moving car. Sometimes when this happens you honk or speed around them, maybe you flash them a slightly inappropriate signal before passing, but sometimes (like me today) you’re so deep in thought that you don’t really realize you’re going five under the speed limit (which was 40) until you’ve been doing it for awhile. I wasn’t really running late, &lt;em&gt;per se&lt;/em&gt;, but I wasn’t really on time either, and I definitely didn’t have time to horse around with “speed impaired” vehicles. However, I was also very tired and so making the attempt to speed around the car just didn’t appeal to me at the time. But after a couple miles, I decided I wasn’t getting anywhere so I went around him. As I went around him we were approaching a street light, and I just happened to get through the light as it turned yellow and he was far enough behind me that he had to stop. For some weird reason (blame it on the deep mood) I started thinking about how that decision could have affected my day, or not even that, but how it could have possibly affected my life. And that seems like a really ridiculous thought, right? How could something so minor change events in my life? Well I got to thinking about how the decision to move around the car just then caused me to get to pass through the green light. Well, let’s look at the obvious first. Maybe I could have gotten into a car accident if I hadn’t of made that light, or maybe I could have because I DID make the light, either way, something could have happened that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t moved around the car just then. Or maybe because I got to work a minute earlier than I would have, I didn’t see or talk to someone that might have said something bad or negative (just throwing out possibilities) that would have caused me to have a bad day. Maybe that bad day would have carried into the rest of my day and caused me to make a poor decision later, maybe I would have yelled at someone or done something else that caused another reaction that ultimately changed what would have happened the next day, which would have changed the next week, then month, and so on. Is it really so unrealistic to consider the idea that every choice we make really CAN effect our lives like that? It seems to be an extreme idea at first, but how many times has a bad driver or a bad customer at work caused you to have a bad day? And how many times has that caused you to be in a bad mood and possibly pass that on to someone else? And how often have you had a fight you wouldn’t have had or an encounter that wouldn’t have happened, had you not been feeling the way you did the previous day? It’s not really that unreasonable. Of course it could work in reverse too. The day could be better instead of worse. Think about this scenario, say I was on my way to buy a lottery ticket (which I do not buy, I accepted long ago that I wasn’t lucky) and passing that car got me there one minute ahead of someone else that was going to buy a lottery ticket at the same time. Say that I win. (Yeah, this is definitely turning into a fantasy) What if I hadn’t of gone around the car? What if I’d shown up a minute later? The next guy buying the ticket just then would have gotten the winning one. Interesting eh? Well I think so anyways. We always think of major events changing our lives, like 9/11 or the war or gas prices or an assassination (heh heh heh, that was a completely random thought process by the way) and they do affect us, but how much time do we spend thinking about the little things that could change our lives forever? Yeah, I guess that's a bit dramatic, after all, it was only a green light. But don’t you ever just wonder, what if?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Ps. The NYC series will continue, as soon as I have time to compile more stories. Along with those will be the punching story. Where I get attacked. It’s true. It happened. Its science. Don’t question it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115697482427120365?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115697482427120365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115697482427120365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115697482427120365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115697482427120365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/08/its-only-green-light.html' title='It&apos;s Only a Green Light'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115689490674925749</id><published>2006-08-29T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love You! .......P.S. You suck.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/150312998_c4e7e72d84.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/150312998_c4e7e72d84.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I’m sure everyone’s heard the phrase, “Love means never having to say your sorry” and I’m sure everyone’s also heard the debate or the counterpoint of “Love means having to say your sorry more”. I don’t really know if there is a right or wrong answer to this. I truly believe that everyone should apologize if they do something wrong. Whether it’s to that creepy next door neighbor or a loved one. But does being in a relationship mean that you get a blurred line between the necessity of an apology and the choice of one? I don’t believe in apologizing if you don’t think you’re wrong. What’s the point? The apology doesn’t mean anything if you don’t mean it, so why waste your time and delude the person you’re apologizing too? But if you love someone, doesn’t that warrant&lt;em&gt; more&lt;/em&gt; apologies? Or are you deserved of a benefit of the doubt because that person loves you? Is it fair to think that way? Doesn’t that in fact simply mean that because that person cares for you they should have to put up with your crap? Who honestly would accept that deal? And the way I see it, if both parties are putting up with each others crap, and no ones apologizing because they think the other one loves them……isn’t that a really frustrating relationship? Isn’t that basically the one thing that every person who’s dating dreads? Isn’t it, in fact, simply taking the other person for granted? Just a thought….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115689490674925749?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115689490674925749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115689490674925749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115689490674925749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115689490674925749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-love-you-ps-you-suck.html' title='I Love You! .......P.S. You suck.'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115679823463243301</id><published>2006-08-28T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rudeness.  The New Foreign Policy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/PAmap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/PAmap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I’ve discovered a mistake in the stereotype of NYC. And although I was only there for a few days, I think I witnessed enough to say this next statement with a fair bit of accuracy, so here goes: It’s not NYC that is rude. It’s all the stinking foreign tourists that are rude. Yeah, I said it. Sue me.&lt;br /&gt;The entire time “J” and I were in NYC we encountered several very nice New Yorkers and absolutely NO rude ones. However, also during this time we encountered enough rude tourists to justify closing our borders for good. I mean it people, it was sad. And yes, I’m sure a fair amount were American, we all know that Americans aren’t really the best at politeness from time to time, but the people that were obviously foreign and extremely rude, completely outweigh the number of Americans we encountered that could be “considered” rude. Let me say this next statement because in a country that lives and breathes political correctness to a fault, in a country that refuses to say anything no matter how true for fear of upsetting someone, and in a country that prefers to assume a point of view before actually reading or listening, I have to say this, you know, to make it clear. So here goes again: I’m not a racist. The fact that I encountered a lot of really rude people and the fact that they all happened to not speak English as a first language, doesn’t have anything to do with me “disliking” them. It’s just simply what happened. And I don’t like to change the truth just because it sounds better. You can say the sky is yellow and I’ll say it’s blue. I might offend you by saying that, it might upset you to hear that, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s the truth. So there you have it. Let’s move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While in NYC it was funny to realize that so many of the people we encountered, whether it was on Times Square or just the Subway, were tourists. This was made funnier by the fact that it wasn’t even tourist season. Which shows you that just like the city that never sleeps, the tourism never sleeps either. Even more interesting than the aforementioned point was the fact that so many of them were not Americans. I guess in some ways this wasn’t surprising at all, but in many ways I still found myself a bit surprised. I heard more foreign languages spoken around me on Times Square then I ever heard English. Nothing wrong with that, it was just (as I mentioned) a surprise. I didn’t have a problem until everywhere I went I had to encounter someone being really rude. And then it dawned on me that each and every one of them were not from this country. Let’s list off a few of them: First of all there was the Russian couple that continually thought it was funny to cut in line at the Empire State Building. And if you’ve never been there, let me tell you, there are a lot of lines. You DO NOT cut at the Empire State building, this will get you killed. Apparently she thought the fact that she carried a Tod handbag made her God, I don’t know. Second, the Mexican lady at Liberty Island that thought she could jump in line to check out her forty-seven bracelets that she bought and then proceeded to want each bagged separately. I’m sorry, this is not Mexico, and we don’t need your money that badly, please wait in line. I promise you that the Statue of Liberty isn’t going anywhere; even the Terrorists didn’t want to hit it, so lets not panic. Third, the Asian gentleman (I use that word loosely) that cut in line at the Empire State Building while I was checking out. Excuse me? Notice a theme here? I’m beginning to think that only America has LINES. *sheesh* and believe me, these were not subtle cuts. These were blatant “I’m going to get in there no matter what” cuts. There were also the French people at Hard Rock Café that needed to ram me into displays at every given second…..wait a second…..why are the French even IN NYC?? Don’t they hate us or something? I digress. Point being, it got ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, Americans may not be the nicest people in the world, trust me, I understand that. I am in no way gung-ho American. No wait, yes I am. I am. Because to deny what we have, to deny what we get, and the fact that on average I DO think we are nicer needs to be mentioned. There is nothing wrong with being proud of what you are and where you live. Because we didn’t get it handed to us on a silver platter. We fought for it, we died for it and we’ve earned it. If this means that other countries hate us? So be it. That won’t ever change. I certainly hope that if there comes a day again when we can travel out of the country and not be scared of being kidnapped, that we, as Americans, wont’ be as asinine as to cut in line or run into people or steal seats or any other number of things. Hopefully you WILL be courteous and polite. Hopefully you’ll realize that it just annoys people and embarrasses your country. And if your not, I hope someone in Germany, or France or Spain writes a really nasty blog about you so you know how ridiculous your being. Because we have a responsibility to hold people accountable for their actions. Whether you’re from here or there. Black or white. Smart or dumb. Male or Female.&lt;br /&gt;And if that “offends” them, then tell them to grow up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115679823463243301?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115679823463243301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115679823463243301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115679823463243301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115679823463243301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/08/rudeness-new-foreign-policy.html' title='Rudeness.  The New Foreign Policy.'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115637561248696199</id><published>2006-08-23T15:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gray's Papaya,  Its Not Just a Movie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/papaya2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/papaya2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So “J” and I are walking down a NYC street towards Times Square, when I notice out of the corner of my eye a bright, glowing sign. It was calling to me, it was saying…..well nothing because it was a sign. But anyways, when I looked up there it was! A Gray’s Papaya hot dog place! Now for anyone that’s seen the movie “Fools Rush In” you know how important a Gray’s Papaya hot dog is. For those of you that don’t know, let me explain. In the movie “Fools Rush In”, Matthew Perry &lt;em&gt;(yes, that’s the one dude from Friends)&lt;/em&gt; is an architect who suddenly has to go to Las Vegas to build a club of some sort. However, Matthew Perry’s character is a tried and true “New Yorker”, Manhattan to be exact, and so he doesn’t really jive well with the atmosphere in Vegas. And several times during the movie talks about “Gray’s Papaya” hot dogs and how great they are and how wonderful they are in NYC and how much he misses them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sidebar*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your right in questioning how this movie could be good. Your wondering why a hotdog has such a central role in a movie. Your also wondering why I should care. Correct? Obviously the hotdog has nothing to do with the central theme of the movie nor does it have any effect on the plot whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*back to blog*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this really cute part where Salma Hayek overnights a few Gray’s Papaya hot dogs so he can have one…….ok so I’ve seen the movie a few to many times. But it was fun to see that they truly exsist! I realize that this was not enlightening in any way, nor was it informative. But I enjoyed eating the same hot dog’s as Matthew Perry. Call me weird. I don’t care, it wouldn’t be the first time. But one day you’ll look back and say, “Man. I wish I could say that I ate the same hot dogs as Matthew Perry.” And I’ll say, “Naaa naa naaaa na naaaaaaaaaaaan naaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!! Hoser.” But maybe that’s not fair…..not everyone can be as cool as me…..hmmmm….. &lt;em&gt;*Tamaira walks away pondering this new thought*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And in case your wondering: Yes, They were delicious! (and cheap) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;ps. check out my &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/reelwoman"&gt;Flickr&lt;/a&gt; link to see more photos from my NYC trip! And stay tuned for many more stories from NYC. Including one where I get punched....no i'm not joking. I really do get punched..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115637561248696199?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115637561248696199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115637561248696199' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115637561248696199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115637561248696199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/08/grays-papaya-its-not-just-movie.html' title='Gray&apos;s Papaya,  Its Not Just a Movie.'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115576942374057384</id><published>2006-08-16T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:36:00.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My First AudioBlog! How Thrilling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="audblog"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/126419/398615.mp3" class="audLink"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.audioblogger.com/media/images/audioblogger.gif" class="audImg"border="0" alt="this is an audio post - click to play" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is basically my first try at audioblogging before I leave for NYC in a couple days.  So far seems to work pretty good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115576942374057384?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115576942374057384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115576942374057384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115576942374057384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115576942374057384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-first-audioblog-how-thrilling.html' title='My First AudioBlog! How Thrilling!'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115438769873566655</id><published>2006-07-31T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:35:59.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I BELIEVE!!!!.........(that you're full of crap)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/untitledkk.jpg "&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/untitledkk.jpg " border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm sure you've all heard it before. The crazy chick who screams loudly at the top of her lungs (while flashing her large rock) "I just KNEW he was the one!!". And while you roll your eyes and pretend to be entralled and wowed by her new found Psychic abilites, you still find yourself wondering.."but how'd she know?". At least, thats what I used to think. Now when someone does that in front of me, I start mimicing that one game, you know the one, where the person loudly calls your bluff with a thundering "Bull$#*t!". At least that's what I feel like yelling. After numerous relationships, I've looked back and realized that the feeling is nothing more than hindsight bias. Naturally, every woman wonders if "he" IS the one....but that doesn't mean that you know, maybe you hope/wish/pray/stalk/and lie about him being the one, but you surely don't "know". And its not that I have a huge dislike for psychics or a need to be pessimistic. But after having more than one relationship where I "thought" that person was the "one", I started thinking I must be nuts. (Because that's what a person starts thinking when they don't fit in with all the truly crazy people that are out there). I figured that I must be obsessed with the idea of "marriage" or that I was one of those people who would settle for anyone. And honestly as funny or maybe odd as that may sound, it did a number on parts of my self-esteem. I didn't want to be that person that would marry anyone, and I'd never thought of myself as that way, if anything I had more standards than the average bear (throw back to ole Yogi) If I had known that someone was the "one", then why didn't I know that the person would turn psychotic in the end? (and don't get me wrong, while I may joke about psychotic boyfriends, I've had more than one that was that way) So why was I feeling so pathetic? Was it just disguised disappointment? Maybe. But that didn't change the fact that I never heard stories about anyone being wrong about "the one". All you hear is " I just &lt;u&gt;kneeeeeeeeeew&lt;/u&gt;" &lt;em&gt;*moment to gag*&lt;/em&gt; So while I was wasting time thinking about what was so "wrong" with me, I realized that there were several people I knew who married someone that they never thought they would. One in particular actually hated the person they ended up with before they started dating. So did these people know? I doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;Its really easy to look at someone and see potential, which is basically all anyone is ever doing. At the point where you end up engaged or married, its even easier to say "I knew it". But what do you say to yourself when that doesn't happen? How do you battle societies need for women to "know"? The only feeling you have when that happens is that YOU did something wrong, that you're to blame for why your "I just knew it someone" is now with someone else. I don't really know how to counteract that other than just being aware that nobody ever knows. Maybe they have an idea, or they hope with all their heart. But realism needs to step up to the plate and do its job. Just because a person has alot of potential in the beginning, doesn't mean its meant to last forever. This is one lesson i've become very familiar with. And it took me being tired of feeling like a complete loser to realize it. Society made me feel like I should "know" and that pressure of wondering if I "knew" or not or wondering what it meant if I didn't "know" was completely ridiculous and really tiring.&lt;br /&gt;Take it from me, you never "know" you just make educated decisions and hope that the person you picked will value your relationship as much as you do. Its as much about faith as the dictionary is about words. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115438769873566655?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115438769873566655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115438769873566655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115438769873566655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115438769873566655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-believethat-youre-full-of-crap.html' title='I BELIEVE!!!!.........(that you&apos;re full of crap)'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115395564837942373</id><published>2006-07-26T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:35:59.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is this thing on??.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/dumb.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/dumb.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I’m tired.&lt;br /&gt;I’m exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;I’m slightly annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;I’m about to kill some teenagers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;*This moment of pure joy brought to you by one really tired Coach*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe the dumbness of teenagers sometimes. What is it about some things that are so difficult? Sometimes the fact that I spend so much time around these girls makes me wonder if the driving age should be raised to the drinking age. If handling small tasks are so hard, what makes me think that they should be given a 2 ton vehicle to drive at ridiculous speeds down crappy roads towards my precious car that never hurt a fly???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a very loooooooong beginning to a very short year.&lt;br /&gt;Why do I like this again? …oh right, right……its “fun”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115395564837942373?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115395564837942373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115395564837942373' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115395564837942373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115395564837942373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/is-this-thing-on.html' title='Is this thing on??.....'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115318706510974822</id><published>2006-07-17T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:35:59.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Say No!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/mnodating.gif"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/mnodating.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Dating. What a disaster&lt;/span&gt; waiting&lt;/span&gt; to happen. And each new encounter can either positively or negatively impact how we view the next date. When should we throw in the towel and “Just say no” to dating?&lt;br /&gt;Reason number one: You’ve forgotten who you are. I have personal experience with this one. When you can look at yourself and you realize that you have no idea what truly makes you happy anymore, you know you’ve lost yourself. Sometimes it’s hard to even realize you need to look in the mirror. So my opinion is that when you feel angry all of the time or sad all of the time, this is a good moment in your life to reexamine. I think you’ll be surprised to see what you find.&lt;br /&gt;Reason number two? If you’re not interested in having a relationship. But Tamaira, you may ask, isn’t that what dating is for? You can go out but not be committed? Well, yes and no. There are plenty of people in this world not interested in dating, so you could easily find people to hang out with or even have flings with if that’s your “thing”. But there are only two scenarios that come with dating when you’re not looking for that relationship. 1.) You end up hurting the other person 2.) You find someone fabulous, but totally screw it up because you’re not ready.&lt;br /&gt;So, number one. You hurt someone. You could escape this situation if you’re completely and totally honest up front that you are in no way interested in a committed relationship. But seriously, how often does that work? Best case scenario the person finds you horribly unattractive and doesn’t want to continue seeing you. Problem solved. But if that person doesn’t, then you have a potential problem. Even if that person understands what you say, if they find you fun to be around, they will want to continue pursuing the relationship whether its currently at the committed state or not. And my personal experiences show that after awhile, not being committed will grate on the persons nerves and it can get ugly. The other person will always get their feelings hurt, because everyone wants to be that person that “convinces” someone they’re wrong…in this case, wrong about not wanting to be committed to “them”. So unless you want to wear smelly clothes and not brush your teeth for awhile in hopes of scaring them off, I’d just stay away from it entirely. In fact, “hooking up” for me doesn’t mean a date, for most people it doesn’t –(says &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://www.drdrew.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dr. Drew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;) - so there’s your loophole.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, number two. You find Mr. /Ms. Fabulous. What a predicament. Here you are just wanting a date for something to do, and Voila! You meet Mr. /Ms. Wonderful. But suddenly you’re conflicted and confused. You’re not sure what you should do. You don’t want to date anyone, but how can you turn away someone that quite possibly is the one for you? I would say from experiences I’ve heard about that more times than not, you don’t turn them away. Instead, you ruin the chance of there ever being a relationship. You start to resent the person, you’re angry; you hold them accountable for your feelings without probably even knowing it. In turn this person gets sick of it, and moves on. Much later in life when you look back you’ll realize what you did. And while you’ll probably find someone fantastic at some point, there will always be the question of “what if?” You’ve probably heard of this, it’s usually referred to as “the one that got away”.&lt;br /&gt;Best thing to do is just wait it out. If your not ready for the great things that come with a committed relationship, that’s fine. But it’s better to just sit out the inning, rather than play with a broken arm and throw the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115318706510974822?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115318706510974822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115318706510974822' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115318706510974822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115318706510974822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/just-say-no.html' title='Just Say No!'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115317223054938022</id><published>2006-07-17T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:35:59.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E-PardonMe?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/Mdrapes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/Mdrapes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So I’m here to tell you about my latest run in with eHarmony. But Tamaira, you might ask, you have a boyfriend (and a fabulous one at that) what are you doing on eHarmony? Let’s just say Tamaira had another “great” idea. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*ahem*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;So I figured that me and “J” had talked a lot about how much we had in common...or maybe not even that, maybe just the fact that we were compatible. And of course, what does eHarmony tout? COMPATIBILITY. The so-called 29 degrees of it if I remember correctly. So I had the wild idea that I wanted us to get on and take the 2hour test and see if we would have been matched together. Really the basis of my curiosity was the fact that we feel so completely compatible, on I would say, just about every level. So this was a great opportunity to see just how good eHarmony was at matching people who could honestly say, “Hey, we’re compatible and have great chemistry.”&lt;br /&gt;So we take the test, but not only that, we have to fill out religious preferences, child preferences etc. Which I do have to admit, may have been a hang up in the past. Considering I would have been a bit more uptight in those questions than “J” would have been. So those questions were filled out the same way, considering our current situation, and while that may seem like tilting the scales or cheating…it actually is going to help me prove something later on. The last thing we had to fill out was the distance in which we were wanting to search. Well, me and “J” being in the same city, we picked the smallest one. Which when your doing something as specific as eHarmony, I don’t recommend. Anyone will tell you that you’ll hardly get any search results from that. But we were trying to make it as uncomplicated as possible, without cheating.&lt;br /&gt;After anxiously awaiting the end of the “endless” questions. We gave the site a few minutes to “get itself together” and tell us what we already knew……the person in charge of matching people was “apparently” at break…so we waited a little longer…..the only thing comforting us at this point was the fact that neither of us had ANY matches….which could only prove one of two things: 1. the only thing that we had in common was the fact that we weren’t compatible with anyone or 2. This site was proving less than worthy of the ridiculous amounts of money it takes to use it. ….. we kept waiting. …&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, we had our test results in front of us and were comparing. The first set told you about yourself and the second (the more interesting set) told you about what you should look for in your “ideal mate”. Naturally, we jumped straight to those. At first it was great; everything but maybe one or two of the 29 degrees were literally the same. We were ecstatic. It was so cool to see that we weren’t crazy and that our feelings of compatibility were correct. I mean, according to what was in front of me, I had my “ideal man”. There’s nothin like perfection! So we went back to the screen and reloaded…..and waited……and……. A match!............... &lt;em&gt;*screech*&lt;/em&gt; ……………&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t “J”. It was some random person in Hays. &lt;em&gt;*bummer*.&lt;/em&gt; We reloaded again. Nothing. It was amazing. I couldn’t believe it. Here we were looking at our results that were saying exactly the same things…and nothing. Not to mention that our preferences matched and we were located within 30 miles of each other. How could something so specific miss two people that matched so closely?? &lt;em&gt;( This, I felt, was a question for Jack Handy, but considering I didn’t know how to reach Jack at that particular moment….I resigned to sighing loudly instead.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with our disappointment large enough to fill a small stadium, we closed our accounts and decided something that any other mature, rational, adult would…..&lt;br /&gt;That site was obviously stupid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ps.Not that I'm promoting them, but if you want to take the eHarmony test, theres no cost, you just have to sign up first. You can find it &lt;a href="http://www.eharmony.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115317223054938022?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115317223054938022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115317223054938022' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115317223054938022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115317223054938022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/e-pardonme.html' title='E-PardonMe?'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115290578665370431</id><published>2006-07-14T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:35:59.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Cold" is a Four Letter Word</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/WinterGirl-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/WinterGirl-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ok. I’m really tired of going into a restaurant, work, clinic, daycare, sports event, grocery store, mall, ANYWHERE looking perfectly normal, and exiting looking like the latest exhibit at the ice sculpting competition. I have to make sure that I’m not going anywhere afterwards because once I leave one of the aforementioned places, all the hair has grown back on my legs.&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that places think they need to be forty degrees inside? It’s bad enough in the summer, but why in the winter? I should be able to go someplace and be comfortable, not wishing that my food would come faster so that I could go outside and proceed with the necessary thawing.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve heard that’s it because I’m so tiny, or short, or because I have brown hair or any number of stupid excuses that don’t change the fact that I’m one step away from being the Abominable Snowman’s distant cousin. And honestly, maybe I’m not cold, maybe the rest of you are just too hot. Ever think of that? Maybe you should be forced to wear shorts in the winter if you’re so hot, so I can wear my clothes in peace and not freeze to death. I actually dread going places in the summer. Because at least in the winter I’m bound to have long sleeves and a parka on, or something. But oh no, not in the summer. In the summer, I’m doomed. I’m doomed to a nasty wintery fate. A horrible death of all of my skin cells as they slowly freeze into a cold oblivion. I’ve actually begun to realize that I’m colder in the SUMMER than I am in the WINTER. Figure that one out, Freud. I’d just like to find one place that didn’t make me wish I was living in the Sahara Desert. But maybe I should move there….at least I’d have a nice tan…..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115290578665370431?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115290578665370431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115290578665370431' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115290578665370431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115290578665370431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/cold-is-four-letter-word.html' title='&quot;Cold&quot; is a Four Letter Word'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115282883204970630</id><published>2006-07-13T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:35:59.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Blog, Therefore I Am</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/BLOG.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/BLOG.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I’ve been blogging for years. I was blogging before there was a term for..well…blogging. I know what your thinking. It wasn’t a diary. It was a blog. Blog’s have a different feel, they look different, the topics are different…or maybe its just the fact that they HAVE topics. I dunno. But diary’s and me never really meshed well. I needed more than that. And so I started a small notebook that was full of clippings and pictures and three dimensional objects and started writing about random topics whether they were of substance or not. Occasionally there would be one that was centered around me. But it was never a case of, “dear diary, saw my cat today. She was chewing on the coach again. Oh that silly cat.” There was always more. And so maybe that’s why I’ve taken to blogging so naturally. Its not new to me, I’ve been there done that. Rocked that boat, mowed that lawn…well..you get the picture. So in effect I am a Renessiance blogger, the real McCoy. Not someone who jumped on a blogging bandwagon because everyone else was doing it. And I forsee myself blogging most of my life. Its just something I do. I enjoy it. If there was a newspaper or magazine silly enough to let me write for them, I’d probably do it. And now thanks to the wonders of modern technology, I am able to blog from my phone. &lt;em&gt;*yeah I know, scary thought huh*&lt;/em&gt; And while I’m on my NYC trip I plan to be doing that as frequently as I am able. So hopefully you enjoy my randomness, because its here to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps. Thanks to Beth for the shoutout in her blog. You can check out Beth’s Blog &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bethieloufreebush.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115282883204970630?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115282883204970630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115282883204970630' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115282883204970630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115282883204970630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-blog-therefore-i-am.html' title='I Blog, Therefore I Am'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115274485289956874</id><published>2006-07-12T15:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:35:58.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Lady Luck danced with Mr. Destiny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/couple_dancing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/couple_dancing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is it that ultimately causes us to find that one fantastic person in our lives? Is it destiny or fate? Is it a matter of losing 100% of the chances you don’t take? Or is it simply pure dumb luck?&lt;br /&gt;Look around you, I’m sure there are several people you know that married or ended up with someone that you, to this day, roll your eyes about. Maybe they’re rude, maybe they’re stupid or maybe you just don’t understand why your friend though he or she was compatible with THAT person. Based on those people, I’d say fate had nothing to do with it. That is, unless, that person really really ticked off fate. But then look around at the people who met at a restaurant by accident and then discovered they’d been neighbors for five years. Tends to give you goosebumps and make you think, &lt;em&gt;*ding*&lt;/em&gt; destiny. Why is it that the really happy people seem destiny induced, and the others make you vow to never enter again into any type of relationship? Maybe we’re just looking at it from the wrong pair of rose colored glasses? Maybe there aren’t lucky and unlucky people in this world. Maybe there are just people who settle and people who refuse to. And those people who refuse to settle, who keep on trucking, who know that just around the corner will be that person that they’ve always wanted, maybe they’re just naturally going to end up happier than the rest of us. We seem afraid to take risks, including risks in relationships.&lt;br /&gt;I’m guilty of settling and not settling. And I’m lucky that I was given another chance to see that I was, in fact, settling.&lt;br /&gt;I was in an extremely happy relationship. Amazing to me, cause it was the first relationship where I could actually say that. But it was true, the first several months of our relationship were better than anything I had had up to that point. And aside from a &lt;em&gt;*few*&lt;/em&gt; things that were missing, I was ecstatic. Finally someone mature and going somewhere in life. Someone that wasn’t joined at the hip to his mother and still living at home. (of course later I realized that these thoughts and reliefs were nothing more than a result of a relationship prior to that one.) Suddenly, out of the blue, nothing was right. And why the relationship ended isn’t nearly as important as how I was thinking during that time.&lt;br /&gt;After being dragged out to the real world by a couple of my friends, I got to talking to one of them about the situation and what I should do. And he proceeded to ask me several questions, basically along the lines of “name something wrong with him”. And I just stared at him like he was a green alien from outer space. “What does that have to do with any of this?” I had asked. I was certain that all he was trying to do was make me dislike him so maybe I wouldn’t care so much. Which at this point in time was not my priority, I was still trying to stop my head from spinning so I could figure out what went wrong. But after he kept pushing and pushing, I finally said, “nothing! That’s the problem! There wasn’t anything wrong with him!” And naturally he looked at me like I had the plague, &lt;em&gt;*because that’s what good friends do when their friend is being an idiot.*&lt;/em&gt; So sitting there, annoyed and agrivated, my friend made me tell him at least 10 things that I didn’t like about my soon-to-be ex. I swear as hard as I tried I couldn’t get past four. I was about to just start making things up so he’d be quiet when he said that I was obviously over-compensating for something.&lt;br /&gt;He proceeded to tell me that obviously in my past relationships I had very high standards&lt;em&gt;,*true*&lt;/em&gt; but maybe those relationships ended because of those standards, or maybe indirectly&lt;em&gt;,*true again*&lt;/em&gt; but you get the point. And that by now I was so tired of feeling picky &lt;em&gt;*wow, this guy was good*&lt;/em&gt; that I’d reversed and suddenly ended up accepting to much. I felt guilty because I was picky so I decided that I should be more openminded&lt;em&gt;,*maybe he’s psychic?*&lt;/em&gt; and more accepting, and therefore I could no longer see the things that I didn’t like.&lt;br /&gt;I sat there pretty much in silence for awhile while I tossed this around in my head. It was like an epiphany. I’d never thought of it that way, it was amazing. And it was the first time throughout this whole chaotic mess that someone had told me something useful. I completely agreed with him and realized that I had to get my standards back. It didn’t’ magically go away though. I still for a month or so, couldn’t think of anything that bugged me about him (other than the fact I was dumped of course).&lt;br /&gt;So I decided that that was it. I was done dating for awhile. I had made up my mind. I was through dating one after another because if this was going to be the result then I wasn’t getting anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;After I gave myself some time to come back to being me, I realized a lot of things about him that didn’t match me. (he was actually my total opposite) He didn’t stay up late, he was a neat freak, he got stressed if a red light was on too long, and was not the best at containing road rage, and the communication that I thought was so good was just a façade. I could go on and on now, because I got enough distance to see what it was that –if I had stayed with him- would have driven me CRAZY later. I was too willing to accept it because of those few things that were different from my prior relationship. So I figured if I gave myself enough time away from that relationship I could possibly prevent it from happening again………..&lt;br /&gt;Well. Yeah. So I sorta botched that. I made it about 2 months. But not on purpose! &lt;em&gt;*heh heh*&lt;/em&gt; I never planned it….which simply continues to prove the “Happens when your not looking” Theory. However, I was looking…well not like that though. I was looking through myspace pages to see if there was anyone around in Wichita that I knew. And occasionally if a person seemed interesting or caught my eye, I would click on their page even if I didn’t know them. And this is how I found my fabulous flame. By a pure freakish accident. No other information about him other than a photo and I just happened to click on it. . . lets ponder this for a second….thats freaky. I mean really, that’s freaky. Its not freaky that a person clicks on someone attractive and they end up dating. It IS freaky however when that person is practically your clone. When you don’t have to lower your standards because they’re being met? Now is that destiny? Or pure dumb luck? Maybe destiny and luck have lunch together every now and then and decide to pick a random soul to mess with, maybe Destiny and Luck are really one and the same, or maybe I finally just decided to quit settling.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know why, but I got to feeling like I deserved it. I was to the point of basically giving Lady Lucky and Mr. Destiny the virtual finger. I was tired of them screwing with me and it was about time I found someone not insane that I had a lot in common with. And I realized that it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to date, as it was more that I was willing to date….if it was the right person. The distance that I kept from some other guys that were attempting to date me at the time, kept me from settling. It looks like Lady Luck and Mr. Destiny decided to sit this one out….. and let me take care of my own life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115274485289956874?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115274485289956874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115274485289956874' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115274485289956874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115274485289956874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/when-lady-luck-danced-with-mr-destiny.html' title='When Lady Luck danced with Mr. Destiny'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30994421.post-115266460537637889</id><published>2006-07-11T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:35:58.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog De-Virginization</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4039/3335/1600/005182006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4039/3335/200/005182006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So...this is my first official "real blog" post......my so-called "Blog De-Virginization". (honestly, I don't care if its a real word or not) So I thought it fitting to start off my new found love, by introducing my current love. My fabulous "J" &lt;em&gt;*names have not been changed to protect the innocent, simply shortened*&lt;/em&gt; He is the love of my life, the most fabulous person I know, and quite possibly the smartest...*&lt;em&gt;screeeeeech*&lt;/em&gt; ok lets not get carried away here people, we all know that I am in fact the smartest....heh heh....anyways..People meet J, J meet people. Become close friends because I'm going to talk about him alot. And why shouldn't I? As I stated before, he is my shining star in life. (if I keep going do you think Hallmark will offer me a job? never hurts...) Hopefully my new found blog friend will help me get back some of my creative juices i've been so lacking lately. Here's hoping.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30994421-115266460537637889?l=ther33lstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/feeds/115266460537637889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30994421&amp;postID=115266460537637889' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115266460537637889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30994421/posts/default/115266460537637889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ther33lstory.blogspot.com/2006/07/blog-de-virginization.html' title='Blog De-Virginization'/><author><name>~T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/reelwoman11/xpersonalpics06012.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
