tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38741363752112580662024-03-18T21:33:03.363-07:00Caught In The UndertowAnd My Poor Attempt To Keep My Head Above WaterAngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-38887549391154225152011-09-30T19:43:00.000-07:002011-10-01T22:17:07.954-07:00It's Friday and I'm in Love - Part DeuxOkay webbers, here is another list of my loves for a Friday evening. Enjoy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIIhey1JdZfjd1pJi1rCfFXR7BqdGxo95O-I0k6HiUQNhQpus2563sqEcBDVVYMV2AKW8WQLv4Kme7Cvwd58MLFZL0wPW3TUrPx8NLHRFd5kVC3MZbNXRY310tHxLW6APBSFgxdzmfGKq/s1600/glee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="317" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLIIhey1JdZfjd1pJi1rCfFXR7BqdGxo95O-I0k6HiUQNhQpus2563sqEcBDVVYMV2AKW8WQLv4Kme7Cvwd58MLFZL0wPW3TUrPx8NLHRFd5kVC3MZbNXRY310tHxLW6APBSFgxdzmfGKq/s320/glee.jpg" /></a></div>I am so in love with this show. The world stops every Tuesday at 8pm - 9pm so I can watch it and get my Finn and music fix.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrOi_IvJYXfpV92fBxUB2oEgH7wp6GtwnCHYiGHawE_iJ1XoJ6i-_Y3T39C3pcIbAKhuaypBryR_pFe33GOWWmstACYpGjOKRCYwkL0ppGqxwKO14m72z5ecLfXeFLYAmv1x6ALv92oGF/s1600/music.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="176" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrOi_IvJYXfpV92fBxUB2oEgH7wp6GtwnCHYiGHawE_iJ1XoJ6i-_Y3T39C3pcIbAKhuaypBryR_pFe33GOWWmstACYpGjOKRCYwkL0ppGqxwKO14m72z5ecLfXeFLYAmv1x6ALv92oGF/s320/music.jpg" /></a></div>Enough said.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3N66zsNAscdGjXpewDQuJGE9m56wk6KFNGvspD186GLZcsGyQI-bqqNNCzQkntm_kW-CtpgWXdWyPU6qfvkISObWjm6r9u5bGiThr3sNPFuzYfV5ONNVYUjKXuj4jx8rD_hYdPXTBJEv/s1600/books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW3N66zsNAscdGjXpewDQuJGE9m56wk6KFNGvspD186GLZcsGyQI-bqqNNCzQkntm_kW-CtpgWXdWyPU6qfvkISObWjm6r9u5bGiThr3sNPFuzYfV5ONNVYUjKXuj4jx8rD_hYdPXTBJEv/s320/books.jpg" /></a></div>You'll never see me without one, either in my purse, or with my nose already in it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnkzcBpaskFJ-lBUGgd-Hzi7vt7hd4fPlYQg4LXteteN5XfzfwW2bldundQoFX1hhaUPCRJlpO7mIaIqtS-kvzYuD2zEDfkYG7oip98RMsXu2zkFTaIHJDp6n1VR76-hA4OL96Nkh8z6f/s1600/sleepy+bobby.com" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnkzcBpaskFJ-lBUGgd-Hzi7vt7hd4fPlYQg4LXteteN5XfzfwW2bldundQoFX1hhaUPCRJlpO7mIaIqtS-kvzYuD2zEDfkYG7oip98RMsXu2zkFTaIHJDp6n1VR76-hA4OL96Nkh8z6f/s320/sleepy+bobby.com" /></a></div>Sleepy boyfriend. <br />
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And I saved the best for last...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh26PX7k4Bo7-MoGfUP7qrHCV8Wdy9pvP9Uls3xryJa-CH7VY7ipWQtl9D_18z1oIu4SdkrjPv0zaXzO7esR87qERzoBs8h_0v1RWsJDLgpT_hlk_45RdDve4veVDAfgE3uYHcDaicMZZRB/s1600/sunset.com" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh26PX7k4Bo7-MoGfUP7qrHCV8Wdy9pvP9Uls3xryJa-CH7VY7ipWQtl9D_18z1oIu4SdkrjPv0zaXzO7esR87qERzoBs8h_0v1RWsJDLgpT_hlk_45RdDve4veVDAfgE3uYHcDaicMZZRB/s320/sunset.com" /></a></div>Beautiful sunsets. They always amaze me and make me happy to be alive.<br />
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So there you have it guys. Another fave five from AngelButton. I hope you enjoyed the pics, and I hope you all have a fabulous weekend. <br />
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Song currently playing on my iPod - "Jerk It Out" by Caesars, 39 Minutes of Bliss (In an Otherwise Meaningless World)AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-30477883810455672602011-09-26T18:38:00.000-07:002011-09-26T18:38:25.831-07:00To Review, Or Not to Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTt_3Wf6ha56eHJujVF1n9U0El-VoV1l3Cjo3KhHLur5K351jgwQkm8ed4VrmeUDNYL7f6EiTzUXrkBl989Y0B44KREYrMygiYPe14gtDyJtYgoZp1AEE-iLVTHBPX7hzj88swuLXHWfO/s1600/clipart_of_10883_sm_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTt_3Wf6ha56eHJujVF1n9U0El-VoV1l3Cjo3KhHLur5K351jgwQkm8ed4VrmeUDNYL7f6EiTzUXrkBl989Y0B44KREYrMygiYPe14gtDyJtYgoZp1AEE-iLVTHBPX7hzj88swuLXHWfO/s320/clipart_of_10883_sm_2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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For those of you who know me well, you know I'm a reader. You know that I always carry a book with me where ever I go, because I never know when I'm going to get some down time. Some of you have even seen my collection of books, and even bought me a Kindle AND a Nook, because having 5 bookshelves with over 700 books (and growing) was becoming a hazard in case of an earthquake or other natural disaster. <br />
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So I've been trying to be good, and I was browsing online for a new read yesterday. <br />
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When I look for a book, especially if it's from an author I'm not familiar with, I check out the reviews on the book. The cool thing about Amazon.com and B&N.com is that they let their customers mark the book with 1 to 5 stars and write a review for the book, on the book's page. What I like even more is that you can download a chapter or a part of the book for free to see if it's something you really want to spend your hard earned money on. Yay for free previews!<br />
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As I was browsing, I came across a book that seemed pretty interesting to me. It has gotten some good reviews, and I was even able to get a sample of the book to read before I purchased. It certainly had the right price, $.99. (I know, it's a buck. But remember all my 700 books on my shelves? If each if those cost a dollar, that's $700 right there! The dollars add up!) So I did my research, and read the reviews. <br />
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In reading the reviews, I was shocked and disgusted to find nasty reviews (especially in how they were written,) from people who didn't like the book. There was one reviewer that I felt was completely out of line and vicious with his/her words. What really made me angry was the fact that the reviewer clearly didn't take the time to read the other reviews or download the free sample. He/She even complained that they "wasted ninety nine cents," on the book. (Um, hey. DUMBASS. Next time, download the sample for FREE to see if you like it. That way, you don't waste a whole dollar and you don't waste your time reading a book you didn't like.) <br />
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I know, we all have freedom of speech and that person had a right to say whatever they wanted to in the review. But my question is, why be so mean about it? I see he/she didn't like it, they gave it two stars. (After reading the review, I was curious to know why they didn't give the book one star. Were they trying to be nice?) Why be so intentionally mean to the author? I've come across books that I don't like and I've given them 1 or 2 stars, but I don't write a review because I don't want to put the author down. I feel my low rating of the book was enough.<br />
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I don't know, maybe I'm just naive and too much of softie (yes, I can be soft and cuddly at times,) to believe that there are people out there who are really that heartless and mean on a daily basis. Especially to people they've never met. Each author that writes a book and puts it out there for you to read is like putting a part of them out there for you to look at. At least, that's how I see it. <br />
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So webbers, what do you do if you come across a book you do or don't like? Do you leave good or bad feedback? And if you leave bad feedback, how much of an <strike>asshole</strike> unpleasant person are you?<br />
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Song currently playing on my iPod - "F**kin' Perfect" by P!nk, Greatest Hits...So FarAngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-86509066472493834242011-09-21T16:55:00.000-07:002011-09-21T16:55:37.485-07:00A New Change in the Way We're Fed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOWlmMjNcr5vi9y8vaaRrAwHIrBu7aWsbAa4hM0sT8ooBRmcgsuGMPDEX_c1_3eVY7fWjquxh9zyoF3jZOsc7q_H-mLPYIg1hIbZyVVzZ8aMqjrT9uZ5aahBNaAb7Cn-DHHXx-AAZqKxT/s1600/fb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="183" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOWlmMjNcr5vi9y8vaaRrAwHIrBu7aWsbAa4hM0sT8ooBRmcgsuGMPDEX_c1_3eVY7fWjquxh9zyoF3jZOsc7q_H-mLPYIg1hIbZyVVzZ8aMqjrT9uZ5aahBNaAb7Cn-DHHXx-AAZqKxT/s320/fb.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Okay webbers, chances are you were hit today by the change in your "news feed" on Facebook. And chances are, most of your friends on Facebook complained about the change in their "status update". Maybe you even complained yourself. I know I did. But then, as I was scrolling through one of the two lists now needed for me to stay updated with all of my friends and interests, an acquaintance posted this: <br />
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<i>"Why are so many people complaining about Facebook when its a free service? People saying I'm leaving because they don't like the change! People act like they pay to have it! If you don't like it, don't pop other peoples bubbles and just go already!!"<br />
</i> (Please note that I copied and pasted this verbatim, and I am in no way responsible for any grammer errors.)<br />
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I think I'm offended a little bit by this post, and it's very hard for me not to comment on this person's Facebook page about it. (That's why I'm coming here to get it off of my chest.) I think I need to break it down bit by bit to explain. <br />
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They ask: <blockquote><i>Why are so many people complaining about Facebook when its a free service?</i></blockquote>Because we can. If we don't post that we're unhappy on Facebook about their changes, then how are they going to know we don't like it? Also, just like you're allowed to put your opinion up on your status, we're allowed to put ours up as well. I can't help it that my opinion is with the majority of the Facebook community, not the minority.<br />
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They state: <blockquote><i>People saying I'm leaving because they don't like the change!</i></blockquote>Um, yeah. Duh. If we don't like it, then why should we put up with it? Just because it's free doesn't mean I'm obligated to use it AND like it. Plus, use your brain. Some people will stay on because most of their friends will be staying on. Unless Facebook somehow turns into another MySpace, and people will start moving to the next big FREE thing. <br />
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Then they exclaim:<br />
<blockquote><i>If you don't like it, don't pop other peoples bubbles and just go already!!<br />
</i></blockquote>I'm sorry, is my opinion popping your little Facebook bubble? Oh, gee... I didn't mean to. Next time, I'll remember that you're holding what I'm saying in the highest regard and I'll have to learn to monitor what I say so I can make YOU happy. Or let's see... how about if you don't like what I say in my posts, you can use that cool little drop down arrow on the right side of my post, click on it, and scroll down to where it says "Hide Story," or "Hide All By AngelButton." And if you feel like I truly let you down and you just can't stand to have your perfect little Facebook world crumble around you because of my opinions - then delete me. Because really, I wouldn't miss you.<br />
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Song currently playing on my iPod: Rumour Has It, By: Adele, 21AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-62375231871987672122011-09-19T12:42:00.000-07:002011-09-19T12:42:48.476-07:00I have a case of the Mondays...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKMuXlgOh2Gb5Mq4Y9EWKDg1W1T8x101mcTwoxmrI-_biF6ZVpCZkZsXEwMuja3J6dk_n5i2YIpdQwtIjZxgqhgHw8WwV-PZDetwB9kprGQlexORCFdzADVi55m7aKu6809raa7P6lwZ6/s1600/2065545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="170" width="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKMuXlgOh2Gb5Mq4Y9EWKDg1W1T8x101mcTwoxmrI-_biF6ZVpCZkZsXEwMuja3J6dk_n5i2YIpdQwtIjZxgqhgHw8WwV-PZDetwB9kprGQlexORCFdzADVi55m7aKu6809raa7P6lwZ6/s320/2065545.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Because I gave you webbers a list of some of the things I love on Friday, I felt it only fitting that I give you a list of some of the things I hate on Monday. <br />
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And please stay tuned following my list, as a fellow blogger (and my hero) happened to post an interesting blog the other day, and I wanted to share it with you all. I'll post the link to her blog after my rant on my hates, and then I'll comment on it as well.<br />
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Now, onto the hate rant!<br />
1. Two-faced people - I think this is my number one hate. I seriously can't stand two-faced people and I think all of them should take a kick to the taco or groin on a daily basis.<br />
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2. Mondays - My busiest day at work. <br />
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3. Seafood - People are always trying to get me to eat seafood. It's not gonna happen people, me no likey. So stop trying!<br />
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4. People who solicit - Whether it be cold calling on the phone, walking into the lobby at work, or up to my front door at home, I always feel like my privacy bubble was somehow a little bit invaded. Yes, I understand these people have to make a living, I just don't want them to do it around me. If I want what you're peddling badly enough, I'll come to you.<br />
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5. Bugs - pretty much any bug will completely freak me out and make me scream like the girl I am.<br />
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Okay, now for the post. As I stated before, Brandi over at <a href="http://www.thedouglassdiaries.com">The Douglass Diaries</a> found a post from another blogger, <a href="http://www.danoah.com">Single Dad Laughing</a>. Brandi read SDL's blog and posted a blog herself in response to it. Brandi's blog can be found <a href="http://www.thedouglassdiaries.com/2011/09/imperfection-challenge.html">here</a>, which you MUST read. If I can persuade you to do anything in your life, please let it be to check out both Brandi's and SDL's blogs. I promise you, you won't regret it.<br />
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After reading both SDL's and Brandi's blogs, I decided to take Brandi's challenge. But what would I write about? It's true that I am my most hateful and judgmental critic, and I had plenty of things that I could choose from. It took me all weekend to weed through and pick my "perfection" issue. I picked this particular issue because my brain kept circling around it and it kept coming back like a bad <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urinary_tract_infection">UTI</a>. (Your welcome for the link.) So, without further delay, here goes.<br />
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I want to be the perfect woman. What I mean is, I want to be able to do it all - be the best mom, be the best wife (or in this case right now, girlfriend), be the best friend that everyone can depend on, and so forth. Sometimes I feel that I want this so badly, and think about it constantly, I'm falling into a form of depression. I trick myself into unrealistic goals and then become sad or angry with myself when I don't live up to the hype, which I never do.<br />
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I fail miserably at being a mother. I'm always berating myself for things I can't control, for example, my daughter and her schoolwork. If she fails to bring home a book from school that she needs for homework, or she forgets to do something on her own, then I feel it's my fault because I didn't remind her, or I didn't teach her well enough to be more responsible. Another reason that I fail miserably as a mother is because I can't afford to "spoil" my daughter. I'm constantly the parent that can afford to buy her the necessities, but nothing fun. And the real stab to the heart is that almost every time she spends time with her dad, she comes home with some frivilous thing that he bought her. And the only thing I can do is smile and say how much I like it. Another view of this is also being the strict parent. The parent who grounds my daughter for being irresponsible, while her dad lets her do whatever she wants. <br />
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I fail at being a girlfriend because I feel like I fail at everything within the relationship. Give me an example of something, and I can tell you how I fail at that. And I'm really scared because I'm afraid my boyfriend's "real" would be our relationship and how much he really hates it because I'm such a failure, and not his perfect girl.<br />
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I fail at being a friend because I feel that sometimes a friend just needs to vent to me about their life, and I somehow always find ways to interject something that happened to me in my life and tell them about it. I hate that I do it. I don't think my friends realize that the only reason I do it is because I want them to know that I understand what they're going through and I'm there for them, and that I'm not just blowing steam out of my ass when I give them advice. I'm afraid it distances people from me, and that hurts. I'm sad that out of the group of girls I hang with, two of them are best friends with one another, and the other has a best friend from years prior. I'm sad that nobody calls me "best", not just because I want the title, but because it would make me feel like I didn't fail in something - that someone actually wants to be around me, and that I'm the first person they turn to (besides a spouse) if they have a problem.<br />
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My real is that I'm crying because I feel like a failure, even while I write this. This is my real that I face everyday.AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-40871830837528551712011-09-16T18:29:00.000-07:002011-09-26T18:36:07.012-07:00It's Friday and I'm in Love...Okay webbers, it's Friday, and as such, I'm going to follow the song and tell you what I love. I'm diggin' this idea, so I might subject you to this every Friday or maybe every other Friday. Let me know what you think. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKuZnh-byrSuhmhPUgkGlPvw1CT0nfPtBUvV8wLllEuS2PqobNSu_23C-z3D2vYNmX1Z0e5NpfCs2vyAvLegSD1Z9mYHqRZD0xbrAvpXtBGRsxHm3AoEbDCRCpJal3DeLED71s5cZjVUn/s1600/IMAG0020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKuZnh-byrSuhmhPUgkGlPvw1CT0nfPtBUvV8wLllEuS2PqobNSu_23C-z3D2vYNmX1Z0e5NpfCs2vyAvLegSD1Z9mYHqRZD0xbrAvpXtBGRsxHm3AoEbDCRCpJal3DeLED71s5cZjVUn/s320/IMAG0020.jpg" /></a></div>This is my daughter. She's my absolute all time love. Who couldn't love a girl who sleeps like that?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOeoD5suLS0aFZ_JZ-2tHNYJuDkOAkutEBH8GctNkhdC9DzeEvta4080cSZ0Z6cktEDwz5FckYRhhyphenhyphenULgqx7wdcIbnnXgh1f5jTlXMqbC34TRdUNydNwu0x-vaTJnrgE85WDPh2_A_IQZV/s1600/IMAG0042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOeoD5suLS0aFZ_JZ-2tHNYJuDkOAkutEBH8GctNkhdC9DzeEvta4080cSZ0Z6cktEDwz5FckYRhhyphenhyphenULgqx7wdcIbnnXgh1f5jTlXMqbC34TRdUNydNwu0x-vaTJnrgE85WDPh2_A_IQZV/s320/IMAG0042.jpg" /></a></div>My boyfriend. The cutest man in the world showing me how much my love means to him.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqUGv5UT8FEGz_z528m6uHQ5xv7Nc_uY1nEHym_gT09bVGcwiyK2hKCEgSEIvPUUfvxQZPJIm0PDENZEsgjhB4Z-f3RlJ4Tsstf2wJpI-gV975ZDA9y4rrIVT2S9TfCS63Pd8XTNCmdd7/s1600/IMAG0125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqUGv5UT8FEGz_z528m6uHQ5xv7Nc_uY1nEHym_gT09bVGcwiyK2hKCEgSEIvPUUfvxQZPJIm0PDENZEsgjhB4Z-f3RlJ4Tsstf2wJpI-gV975ZDA9y4rrIVT2S9TfCS63Pd8XTNCmdd7/s320/IMAG0125.jpg" /></a></div>When your pets want to go on the trip with you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qrcHOl07f15Z0Bg6ajoSRjYrSVRYX3Gy7_6NAwgWmFty8ArbRArxKGYCFe_jvjJ5eQr4zma3ifmpnOjY0Nc6oyHnVmi7384Lna7zixi9NbrToL6W2gdlFa8Sfqoy-BbYJWTBk11sApqt/s1600/IMAG0141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0qrcHOl07f15Z0Bg6ajoSRjYrSVRYX3Gy7_6NAwgWmFty8ArbRArxKGYCFe_jvjJ5eQr4zma3ifmpnOjY0Nc6oyHnVmi7384Lna7zixi9NbrToL6W2gdlFa8Sfqoy-BbYJWTBk11sApqt/s320/IMAG0141.jpg" /></a></div>Our new addition to our family. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAdEOwwrF5xR0qCZ6ihJ41VG4tUgXF461sLbdwGF91oiBPhkZl0UiGc4NtV-TsVuuyFyZj8HsZu9zMzni43JhiP5c5Vve2xiZH_outdnO8nmbY6xZdJwYgvAr94wM4p5xsCDOVV5xKxQE/s1600/IMAG0035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAdEOwwrF5xR0qCZ6ihJ41VG4tUgXF461sLbdwGF91oiBPhkZl0UiGc4NtV-TsVuuyFyZj8HsZu9zMzni43JhiP5c5Vve2xiZH_outdnO8nmbY6xZdJwYgvAr94wM4p5xsCDOVV5xKxQE/s320/IMAG0035.jpg" /></a></div>Frogs. I can't get enough of them. But I'm very picky about which ones I like, sometimes they can just be created to freak me out, and the last thing I need is some freaky demonized stuffed frog glaring at me while I'm trying to watch tv or fall asleep. And no, I don't sleep with stuffed animals, they go on the floor when I unmake the bed. But then, who wants a freaky demonized frog on the floor at the foot of the bed? Certainly not this girl. I'll have dreams that my frog turned into Freddy Kruger.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhX1WWYFCZo_wPEN0kVNNDSTF9NFaanZ-VkvSg-hNpZo4XUdlqW0J3N6jnJosy_2ARA5vMo-V3cydk5RAcsMgwlLqq_hAoW884QM75Kyyom9fYY_R_ifkKO4xVVqXohv5ppOKFDuMepLS/s1600/IMAG0142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="191" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXhX1WWYFCZo_wPEN0kVNNDSTF9NFaanZ-VkvSg-hNpZo4XUdlqW0J3N6jnJosy_2ARA5vMo-V3cydk5RAcsMgwlLqq_hAoW884QM75Kyyom9fYY_R_ifkKO4xVVqXohv5ppOKFDuMepLS/s320/IMAG0142.jpg" /></a></div>My tattoo. I loves it. It is my precious.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbPz2G59CmsSqOfCLf7MFz6IV2aq7gWbpUI6cCJvecybFuvyCBPKuCQkVNcQcfoaYV9MkI49U591wsgT5FqPrKzk3_2wUIo1PWIkrtFUs3u-29zl__AkIQTHvzcOzndxoETAQkoomgRvQj/s1600/IMAG0143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbPz2G59CmsSqOfCLf7MFz6IV2aq7gWbpUI6cCJvecybFuvyCBPKuCQkVNcQcfoaYV9MkI49U591wsgT5FqPrKzk3_2wUIo1PWIkrtFUs3u-29zl__AkIQTHvzcOzndxoETAQkoomgRvQj/s320/IMAG0143.jpg" /></a></div>And lastly, notes that I find from my daughter on my desk when I take her to work with me. Proof that no matter how hard I try and please the boss people, my work is still doo doo.AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-9511410575456098422011-01-07T10:51:00.000-08:002011-09-15T13:05:58.553-07:00"Excitement" is my middle nameSo one of my co-workers bought me a plant today to replace the old one. I slowly killed the old one last year (no, not on purpose), and the pot with the dirt in it has been sitting in my office for 3-4 months now for the sole purpose of just greeting me every morning when I come in.<br />
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<div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 191px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559519546620853746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ixbs3Vls2VvLK0sMr8B0O0R5_irPouIBX0IPPP6SJSAZWT1fr9AUn0U6j3V5kgYYnBDQQquoLNA-pb0m-d75ZkhR18x1vaIhPKV5JLVVAaIovOcsCXAKKGKqUY_qL9Bm0cF1o1v1fF-X/s320/old+plant.jpg" /><span style="font-size:78%;">Welcome to another beautiful day at work.</span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><br />
<p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 191px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559520727467284850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM2jOvyIe_gDB7DlM5-ywZvhl-lQ7wRzSxMBw5TRtTa9D4fNroNHtUf3ttkMw3HJBBjP9-igavi3e0HV06iwVfElNkurLmcvx5rvEZ0tXcVkOuhekZuPGEIrw0oeSG5drzrms-5yr08bkj/s320/Kermit.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 191px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559520104435466034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPC5AtaBKQgBQHN-3JxhXuHhVHeT6af0wG_xdx7jKpP0WzTeKqetkKDr9XfYYPhpEyrP9ZJgPnGZvqw586jFD0oPIOxyAUYNS8kgPskZ3RQEiw32ip9rUcuCy5rFiRriWH7CzHwcWwE7n/s320/new+plant.jpg" /></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">Now this is here to greet me when I walk in. </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">I even have a new friend!</span></p><p align="left">I have decided to be unoriginal and name my new friend Kermit. </p><p align="left">But really, this will most likely be the highlight of my day today. I know, I know. I'm living on the edge. God forbid if something even <em>MORE</em> exciting happens. I might actually have a heart attack from the over excitement. </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">P.S. I'm completely grateful that my co-worker did this for me. I was really excited and happy that she would even think of me. (And I know it had nothing to do with the fact that she was the one who brought in the first plant and the pot the plant was in belonged to her in the first place.)</p>AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-66337775696021609952011-01-06T13:28:00.000-08:002011-09-15T13:00:08.950-07:00Could a customer be anymore stupid?<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRwwgzUIQxQAQUXi0NdibAHykhSQO9_MRoVvrf5CzJ33xCD1C5nqlufj5GNMNj5siZDD52RR2t8-Qn9CWyI3r4wONfOUi7zyHBfdoHTHcr98h0irfSG8aKQU8WvlLSYUDPlY5emE7fCUM/s1600/dumbass.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559190464655779970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRwwgzUIQxQAQUXi0NdibAHykhSQO9_MRoVvrf5CzJ33xCD1C5nqlufj5GNMNj5siZDD52RR2t8-Qn9CWyI3r4wONfOUi7zyHBfdoHTHcr98h0irfSG8aKQU8WvlLSYUDPlY5emE7fCUM/s320/dumbass.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">What I would like to tell</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">some of our customers.<br />
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<div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left">Customer: "Um yes, we just bought bottles from your company and we need the dimensions of the bottles for a project we're working on."</div><br />
<div align="left">Me: (as acting receptionist since MR left us high and dry up Sh!t Creek) "Okay, what's the company name, please?"</div><br />
<div align="left">Customer: "Um, it's just..." (this is where he proceeds to tell me the company name of who I work for.)</div><br />
<div align="left">Me: "No, I'm sorry - not my company name, but your company name."</div><div align="left"><br />
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<div align="left">I now have a red mark on my forehead from where I banged it on my desk a few times. </div>AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-86607439750370063312010-05-13T10:22:00.000-07:002010-05-13T11:44:43.471-07:00Dirty Laundry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8-H6BCc9-iZzODAbJN__-AUBrQ69sD00ANZPtgEkS3-NRjLUf8wTJn60KR7Us3EhKgDqWiAfbUWX-NbxPZIARPXphgf_GYts755ZHaDCutcYpSQd-mineOvaCF3NzWnYjnnw5DPDs2uP/s1600/dirty-laundry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8-H6BCc9-iZzODAbJN__-AUBrQ69sD00ANZPtgEkS3-NRjLUf8wTJn60KR7Us3EhKgDqWiAfbUWX-NbxPZIARPXphgf_GYts755ZHaDCutcYpSQd-mineOvaCF3NzWnYjnnw5DPDs2uP/s320/dirty-laundry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470807419830424066" border="0" /></a><br />I sometimes despise my ex-husband. I know, I know - who doesn't despise their ex? Most divorces end up getting ugly and both parties end up hurt, bitter and ashamed of the way they acted. My ex is one of those ashamed people. At least he says he is. Let me explain...<br /><br />I will try and do this without going into all the gory details of the marriage and divorce, and essentially airing the "dirty laundry" of the relationship. However, I do need to give a basic time frame so you can get a clearer picture. February 2009 - told ex that I finally wanted a divorce. April 2009 - Divorce papers are served to ex. Later that month, ex hacks into my email and sends a mass email to my contacts which slanders me and my new boyfriend. I decide to take the high road and not even comment or counter attack the email.<br /><br />Now, don't get me wrong - I was furious. And I really wanted to send my own email. I really really wanted to. But here's the thing... there's three sides to every story - mine, his and the truth. His email caused major discord between friends and family of mine. When I found out about it, I called him and he heard a whole new side to my vocabulary. He said that the moment he sent it, he felt terrible and that it made him feel sick to his stomach because he knew what the email would do to me and the people I'm closest to. The asshole must not have felt that bad because he didn't offer to send an apology email to everyone stating his remorse. He just let laying dogs lie. <br /><br />Why am I telling you this? Because to this day, that damn email still haunts me. It's not everyday that it pops up, but a year should be enough time for things to move on. There's one person in particular that is still holding a grudge, and I heard about it again this morning. It really pisses me off. If that person is so upset or concerned about the damn email why don't they come to me and talk about it? Why don't they give me my chance to speak? Then there's the anger toward the ex. If the bastard hadn't sent the thing in the first place, this wouldn't be an issue. And let's face it... it's a pretty damn stupid issue.<br /><br />So there are basically two different things I want to say in my conclusion. To my friends and family - I'm sorry. I'm sorry you feel I disappointed you, and I'm sorry if some of the decisions I made hurt you. However, those decisions I made were mine to make. I'm not asking for you to just forgive and forget, but just remember who I am and what I've been to you in your life. Because that, that has never changed. I've always been truthful with myself in the decisions I make, and I'm sure in the future there might be more decisions I'll have to make that you might not agree with. Are you going to shun me for those too? Also, before I let you go on with your day - remember - I'm happy with my decisions. They have put me in a much happier place in my life and I will never regret that.<br /><br />And finally, to my ex - You hurt me while we were married, and that wasn't enough for you. You had to hurt me more, even though I had moved on and we were done with what was left of our life together. For this pain you've caused me - the before, during and after - I will never forgive you. It will never be okay. You are the most cowardly and despicable person that I know. With this said - take care of the next girl. You've already failed twice. Think about your actions in your first marriage and then in ours. And realize that you are going to have to compromise in your behavior and how you treat people, otherwise you're going to spend the rest of your mornings, afternoons and nights forever alone. <br /><br />Song currently playing on my iPod - "Another Bag of Bricks" by Flogging Molly, Drunken LullabiesAngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-21026421630442489832010-03-11T10:17:00.000-08:002010-03-11T10:36:38.820-08:00The moron of today is...<span style="font-family:georgia;">the receptionist that works in the office. You will find she is usually my "moron of the day". How this girl gets by in the world is beyond me. I will refer to the receptionist from here on out as "MR". Please don't ask me what MR means, because then the point is just lost on you.<br /><br />Today's catastrophe is that MR has caught a cold from the owner's wife (OW), who only comes into the office on Tuesdays and Thursdays for maybe 4-5 hours each day. Last week, OW was sick and went to the doctor to get medicine for the cough she had. Now this week, the MR has done nothing but complain about how OW came in and contaminated the office with her germs and how she caught them. (Note: OW is out this week on vacation.) Tuesday, MR went home early due to her illness. Yesterday, MR stayed home sick. One would think that if you've been feeling sick since last weekend and this sickness has caused you to stay home, that you might want to go to the doctor and get checked out yourself! Did MR do that? Absolutely not. Instead, she stayed home and sat on her stupid ass. And today, she's back in the office coughing up her sickness, so someone else can catch her bug. Hmmmm. I think I hear a hypocrite.<br /><br />Oh, and let's not forget that MR has to screen everyone's phone calls that come into the office. I can't count how many times the bitch has coughed into my ear through the phone and not even said "excuse me". Next time I'm sick and have to cough, I'm calling her.<br /><br />Song I'm currently listening to: "With You" by Chris Brown, Exclusive<br /></span>AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-9116165368325731352010-03-10T21:53:00.000-08:002011-09-15T18:05:51.982-07:00My day was spent...on reading other people's blogs. Most of them I just flipped past after reading their title and description. Some freaked me out, while some were just plain lame. But who am I to judge? I'm just like them, trying to get my voice out in the world, trying to get on my little soapbox of opinions and be heard.<br />
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In the beginning of this whole thing, I started out thinking I'm going to find tons of blogs that I'm going to like and find interesting. As my day progressed, and I clicked and clicked, I discovered that there aren't too many people out there who are just typing their daily bull shit and rants like I wanted to do. Some were posting their art, photos and wares that they made. Others I came across hadn't posted anything since Decmeber or January. Pfft. Like I want to "follow" someone who doesn't write for months. What's the point then?<br />
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I figured that if I could find a blog I was interested in enough to read for more than 10-15 minutes, and I wanted to come back for more, they had a follower. But trying to find a blog was hell on Earth. By the end of my day, I've found one that had me rolling on the floor with laughter. It's fairly new and I'm their first follower. I can't wait to see what they write next.<br />
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My whole point to this is that I realize my blog will probably get glanced at and passed by people just as I passed on theirs. For whatever reason it may be, maybe I wasn't cheerful enough or interesting enough. But that's okay. This is here for me. This is here for me to vent and get it all out here because I can't get it out anywhere else. I've already been told I'm a negative person, so maybe, just maybe, putting my thoughts and feelings on here will help qwell my bitching and moaning that I'm so apt to do. And if, if by chance you do find me interesting and do want to make a comment, I'm down with that too. <br />
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Song I'm currently listening to: "Don't Speak" by No Doubt, Tragic KingdomAngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-31236900713326432010-03-10T13:02:00.000-08:002010-03-10T14:34:15.122-08:00Holy crap<span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" >I just looked at some other blogs. I need to get my ass in gear. Everyone has their own little page that they designed, with pictures of their families up and have hundreds of posts dating back years. What the hell? Where was I through all of this? Why wasn't I informed that this was such a thing to do? Someone is going to look at my generic little page and laugh at the ridiculousness that is me and my blog.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" >Song I'm currently listening to: "Bathwater" by No Doubt, The Singles 1992-2003</span>AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3874136375211258066.post-28910617122221250422010-03-10T11:42:00.000-08:002010-03-10T14:34:34.282-08:00New to this whole thing<span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I<span style="font-family: georgia;">'ve decided to start blogging. I actually stole this idea from last Monday's episode of House. I know blogging has been around forever, but I just didn't think it was something I could get into. Then sitting there watching the show I thought to myself, "What a great way to get everything off of my chest, and not have have my family and close friends hear me complain all of the time." So, here I am. I am giving my gift of complaining to the world. I don't think that all of my posts will be complaints, at least I hope they won't be. I'd like this to be more of a sounding board for me, something where I can write about a problem I'm having and get different perspectives about it. I hope I've found the place to do it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">So let's see... I guess a bit about myself is in order. I'm 32, I was born and raised in California, and that's where I'm currently living. I have a full time job (sort of), more on that later. I don't consider myself an exciting individual. I work, come home, help my daughter with her homework if need be, figure out what to do for dinner, do my chores, watch some t.v. or play a video game and then go to bed. In the morning, I rinse and repeat. Just your normal everyday person.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">So I guess that's it for now. I know I could say more, but I just wanted to get my feet wet a bit. I'll probably come back tonight and post about my day, hence the title of my blog. I hope I don't disappoint. Thanks for listening.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Song I'm currently listening to: "Shut Up" by the Black Eyed Peas, Elephunk</span><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>AngelButtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03085040017009534136noreply@blogger.com0