tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76111257301814191292024-03-12T22:05:51.788-04:00Sweatpants & Facebook RantsJMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-33393926161808378112014-05-27T22:22:00.001-04:002014-05-27T22:22:04.519-04:0010 Creepiest Music Videos, IMO<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>10. Land of Confusion - Genesis</b></div>
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<b> </b><b>9. Thriller - Michael Jackson</b></div>
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<b> </b><b>8. Sweet Dreams - Marylin Manson </b></div>
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<b> </b><b>7. Black Hole Sun - Soundgarden</b></div>
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<b> </b><b>6. Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana</b></div>
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<b> </b><b>5. Greedy Fly - Bush</b></div>
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<b> </b><b>4. Grind - Alice In Chains</b></div>
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<b> </b><b>3. Schism - Tool</b></div>
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<b> </b><b> 2. Stinkfist - Tool</b></div>
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<b> </b><b>1. One - Metallica</b></div>
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<br />JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-7991503069850762372012-09-28T21:07:00.000-04:002012-09-28T21:07:34.163-04:00Spice Cake Whoopie Pies Recipe<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Spice Cake Whoopie Pies<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Makes 12 Generous Size Pies. Feel free to make smaller spoonfuls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ingredients:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Spice Cake Mix<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Small Box French Vanilla Instant Pudding Mix<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Pumpkin Pie Spice (Optional)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For Filling:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">½ Cup Butter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">1 Cup Confect. Sugar<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">1 Cup Marshmallow Fluff<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">1 Teaspoon Vanilla<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Directions:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Follow the recipe on the cake mix box. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Keep the water at ¾ Cup</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Beat with Mixer for one minute.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Add Pudding Mix and 3 Light Dashes of Pumpkin Pie Spice. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Beat for another minute. (Batter will be thick)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Drop spoonfuls of batter onto ungreased cookie sheet(s). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bake for 14 Minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Let them cool on the cookie sheet(s) or place flat side down on a flat surface.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To Prepare Filling:<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Combine all Ingredients.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Beat until creamy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Spread evenly on pies and make a sandwich.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Enjoy!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-17243822741449041142012-06-24T17:07:00.002-04:002012-06-27T05:55:44.686-04:00Fiona Apple<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let me start by saying, I love Fiona Apple. Ever since I first read about her in Seventeen magazine, about 15 years ago, I knew that she was not like the other singers of that time. She is soulful, insightful, raw and real. I would spend countless hours after school at my best friend's place patiently waiting for her pictures to load (using dial-up) so I could compose a scrapbook. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I have numerous import cds of hers. *For you kiddies: Before the time of cell phones with cameras, people had to sneak in recording devices and could charge a lot of money for live cds. Once upon a time, there was a local record shop called Peacock Music. The staff was knowledgable, friendly and really looked out for their customers. Once they even gave me free tickets to a Godsmack show just because they knew how much I loved them. Before my first ever Fiona Apple show back in 2000, an employee of Peacock, Steve, asked me who was opening. Jurassic 5, hmm never heard of 'em. Steve informed me that J5 had some old school beats and that I should be excited to see them. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The day of the concert an ex bf, my best friend and another friend all pile in a car and head to Rochester. My best friend gets sick in the car right before we get to the hotel- wait, this is relevant. She stays at the hotel and the three of us go for a walk to the venue. We see the show isn't sold out and manage to swap our four tickets for four front row seats! The day couldn't get any better, right? Wrong. After swapping the tickets we see a tour bus parked out front and flock towards it. There were a couple guys standing in front of it. One was very tall and the other short with long dreadlocks. We took our chances, "excuse me, are you with Jurassic 5?" One guy introduced himself as Chali2na and the other as Akil. </span> </div>
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W<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">e talked for a bit outside telling them how we heard of them, and that my friend was sick. Chali2na recommended a great soup place up the road, Akil shook my hand and was all smiles. Then they asked us onto the bus. One of the other members didn't think that was a good idea so we parted ways instead. My friend ended up feeling better and all of us went to the show. It was phenomenal! After the show, in the lobby, we ran into Chali2na again! We introduced him to my sick friend and he gave her a hug. A few members of J5 signed cds for all of us and we left. We waited out near Fiona's tour bus and it was worth it. There were about 30 people out there and she signed autographs and took pictures with fans. I got an autograph and was able to speak to her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I said something totally lame like, "I really love your music"- blah I cringe everytime. I should have said something way more profound. Then again, I was only 18. It was by far one of the best nights of my life. I didn't go to another Fiona Apple show until last night. Which was a very different experience than the first time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This show was originally supposed to be at Mountain Park in Holyoke, MA, about four hours away. My boyfriend and I found out the morning of the show that it was moved to the Calvin Theatre. We arrived around five and exchanged our tickets. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stage before the show</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The venue is pretty small and reminded us of the Strand Theatre in Plattsburgh. I love small shows. It's a totally different experience than being at a place like the Pepsi Arena in Albany. The doors opened at six and I was so excited we had to go right in. The theatre had a bar so we each got one beer and a bottled water. The show started promptly with Blake Mills, Fiona's current guitarist and Sebastian Steinberg on bass. (Sebastian was the bassist for Soul Coughing). I had never heard of Blake Mills so I didn't know what to expect. He's a really great guitarist and were setting the tone for the evening. Then suddenly flahshing lights appear and this really annoying alarm and then the recorded ladies voice of proceeding in single file to the nearest exit. And it just kept going. Someone who worked there even fanned Sebastian, just incase he was the one who set it off. Mills kept playing but finally started mocking the alarm and making jokes and laughing. That thing was so annoying, almost like a car alarm. When the it stopped, two songs later, Mills invited the crowd to make the alarm sound, if we missed it. He played for about 30-40 minutes and Fiona started right around 8. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blake Mills</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I could tell immediately she was not the same person/performer I saw twelve years ago. She was improved; confident and sophisticated with the same amount of raw emotion pouring from her soul. Before she seemed almost shy on stage, this time she owned it [the stage]. Again, this theatre was small and Fiona was, understandably, irritated with people talking during the show. The first notice of this was her giving someone a glare in the front row and giving them the "zip-it" sign over her mouth, everyone cheered. The second instance happened right before she sang <em>I Know</em>. Which if you do indeed know, is so captivating. Anyway, before she sang she introduced the song and said "and if the people who keep talking could really just....stop". It was so rude and I'm sure really distracting to her. Speaking of distractions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have really unfortunate luck sometimes. We were in row D of the Orchestra seating, which was about ten rows from the stage. Everyone in eye's view remained seated, slightly tapping or whatever to the music. Everyone that is except for the two drunks that sat in front of me and Tom. We shall call them Patsy and Edina. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> They showed up late, drink in hand. Fiona played from 8-9:30 and they refilled three times. I'd say Patsy, who was in front of me, was older than me, a bit heavy set and had been beaten with the ugly stick. Edina sat in front of Tom, probably closer to my age and a bit more heavy set than Patsy. They swayed like Ray Charles wailing on the piano which was annoying and sometimes hard to see around. No one else acted this was. It was like an exorcism was taking place. Then the drunk duo began to fist pump to Fiona. Wow, just, wow. But I found that the newest songs were foreign to them so they did not really "seat dance" to those. However, all hell broke loose when the band started to play <em>Criminal</em>. And a crime was committed. Those two drunk trolls stood up and started "dancing". *As a side note: this is why I personally don't drink to the point of being drunk anymore. So, I tapped Patsy on the shoulder and while motioning to me and Tom said we can't see. "Oh, sorry", she says and sits down. Great! Wait, not great. "Sorry" she says again while glaring at me. I said thanks, when she started to say something else I said "we're good, I'm watching the show". The drunks start talking and turning around and say something to me like "We were trying to have a good time. Go to a mellow concert", I said this is a mellow concert. Patsy kept trying to say something to me. All I heard was "Fiona would want us to stand" and just kept staring at me with that sour puss on her face. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>Criminal</em> finshes and the final song of the night starts and they both keep turning to give me dirty looks. The song finishes and everyone starts to give a standing ovation and Patsy turns to me and yells "Don't stand!" And I look her in the eyes and stand and applaud. That's when the fun starts. Patsy then asks me what drain I crawled out of. "You must think your'e something special to act like that". I dismissively wave her off and she mocks me doing it back. She stands and then she turns back around and says I'm not a fan. That if I were a true fan.....and just kept running her mouth. I told her to stop and and that I am trying to watch the show so just stop already. That's when she proceeded to call me a hoe-bag slut, etc. The kid two seats over from her was telling her to stop and watch the show. I just kept looking past her to watch the concert. She kept going off so I finally flipped her the bird. She said something like she's 50 and can kick my ass. I ignored her until she said it a few more times. I got so fed up I gave her the "let's go hands and head-bob". I was ready to tune into my inner JWoww and of course, she did nothing. I think Fiona did two encores and I remember apologizing to the woman next to me over what happened. That woman was a big lady, I certainly wouldn't have messed with her and she said to me that those women were drunk and that she was ready to jump in. We laughed about it. Then the show ended. I could hear the drunks saying that they were going to kick my ass and that they could take me out with one punch. They weren't saying it to me just loud enough so I could hear. So I thought it would be best to let them leave first. We waited at the end of the aisle and they were right next to me. Patsy looked at me stewing like she wanted to say something but didn't. They finally walk by and some nice people let us out . Then I'm approached by a man and his wife, probably in their 50's, and they said they watched the whole thing. The man said the drunk women were being annoying the entire show and that they had my back. They were glad someone finally said something to them and would have gotten security had they tried anything. We all noticed that the drunks were only two people ahead of us and they kept looking back to see where I was. So he and his wife walked us out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Only <em>I</em> would almost get in a brawl at a Fiona Apple concert and only <em>I </em>would be praised by the onlookers. What a night! Looks like Fiona wasn't the only one who has become more confident and self-assured.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today's sweatpants brought to you by Clntn Cmmnty Cllg</span> </div>
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JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-19965417897893719082012-03-12T16:22:00.000-04:002012-03-12T16:22:57.542-04:00Oh, Duh Toilette<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--2ZidA8Bw10/T15YbuYqxEI/AAAAAAAAAI0/cJ_ZhNlJG6g/s1600/laugh.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--2ZidA8Bw10/T15YbuYqxEI/AAAAAAAAAI0/cJ_ZhNlJG6g/s200/laugh.gif" width="200" yda="true" /></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>I just have to share this with anyone who wants a good laugh.</strong></span></div><strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>About a month ago at work we went through a box of free samples that we had collected throughout the semester. I let the girls pick whatever they want but I saw (what at the time I thought to be) a perfume sample. It was a little black bottle, with a nice script, on a folded sample card. I didn't pay much attention to it until like the next week. I was getting ready to go to a PSU hockey game, Go Cards!, and decided to spray on my new perfume. It smelled GREAT! I loved, loved, loved it until I read the bottle....it was potpourri. I get a great kick out of this and tell Sasha when I get to the game, we both have a good laugh.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Being that it was a potpourri, I started spraying it all around. Since it was a sample size I used it up quickly. So one afternoon I say to my boyfriend, Tom, "I'd really like to get more of the potpourri. Can we get some on ebay?" He asked me the name of it and for some reason I thought it was called "Boof-Poof". I wanted to be sure, so I grabbed the bottle. Yeah it wasn't called Boof-Poof....it was called Poo-Pourri. It's a spray for the toilet before you go number two! That's right, you guessed it, I was wearing toilet spray. </strong></span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today's sweatpants brought to you by Juicy Couture.</span></strong></div>JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-42068645125836427532011-08-09T16:57:00.000-04:002011-08-09T16:57:07.473-04:00Your'e a Pal and a Confidant.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SQ0sVGTBcXI/TkGUfvtpPRI/AAAAAAAAADY/GNgO8_9kS_s/s1600/dorothy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" naa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SQ0sVGTBcXI/TkGUfvtpPRI/AAAAAAAAADY/GNgO8_9kS_s/s200/dorothy.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>I'm sure most of you recognize the title of this blog to be some of the lyrics from the Golden Girls tv show. I believe Sasha, my best friend, was more like Sophia and I was more like Dorothy. Sasha and I always thought that someday we will be little old ladies living together. There may or may not be cats, but there will definetly be coffee and cheesecake involved. </strong></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rI0xQeObp_w/TkGUnDbiQFI/AAAAAAAAADs/x4jtRXDeqCY/s1600/sophia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rI0xQeObp_w/TkGUnDbiQFI/AAAAAAAAADs/x4jtRXDeqCY/s1600/sophia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" naa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rI0xQeObp_w/TkGUnDbiQFI/AAAAAAAAADs/x4jtRXDeqCY/s200/sophia.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>We have been in each other's lives for just about 24 years. We are just as much like family as we are friends. We can hang out without having to entertain one another, I can read her expressions and she can read mine. We can have a conversation and not even mutter a word. Her friendship has brought me much happiness, moral support and laughter. It's nice to know that I already have someone to grow old with. </strong></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>This blog is basically an ode to Sasha. I just want her to be able to read this anytime she may feel sad or lonely. Sasha, you have been through a lot, you are going through a lot. I will be standing by your side always and forever. I love that we are who we are. By no means were we ever the epitome of cool but I sure had a blast being who we were. Very "Romy & Michele" of us. </strong></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-knVLRu7s6WE/TkGYGdrfImI/AAAAAAAAAEA/BjPbq780VS8/s1600/ram.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" naa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-knVLRu7s6WE/TkGYGdrfImI/AAAAAAAAAEA/BjPbq780VS8/s320/ram.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>You are my best friend, my homie, my sister from another mister. I love you and want to leave you with some random words that just might make you smile.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Free Bird, Chicken Wiggle, Razzle Dazzle.</strong></span></strong></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Communion</td></tr>
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</div>JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-84685410436704269422011-08-06T09:53:00.001-04:002011-08-06T09:56:43.770-04:00Don't Mess With Me Before I've Had My Coffee<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>There is absolutely no good time of day to go to Wal-Mart. Black Friday, the entire holiday season, back-to-school time, any week day between 8 a.m. and 9 p.m., during stocking times (afterhours)....doesn't leave many prime shopping times. Plus, at least at the Plattsburgh Wal-Mart, the camping is outrageous. The parking lot turns into the Canadian camping extravaganza. Directly behind the "No Camping" sign you can see usually 8-20 RVs and they even set up lawn chairs. </strong></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(not the Plattsburgh store)</td></tr>
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</div><div align="left" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Anyway, I decided to go get a couple groceries early this morning, I arrived around 6:30. Besides the sea of rvs, the rest of the lot was fairly empty. I turn right, stay in the right lane, and suddenly this car (from the left) is speeding right at me. This stupid woman was cutting through spaces and I saw that she wasn't even looking at me. I just stopped where I was and was ready to honk. I did have my hands up, in what I can only describe as Stephen Urkel's "Did I Do That?" Though my look was more "Whatcha Doing?" </strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6hhWhhC_fxg/Tj0uIl6uI1I/AAAAAAAAACw/Zd8C_hsbjuM/s1600/steve-urkel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6hhWhhC_fxg/Tj0uIl6uI1I/AAAAAAAAACw/Zd8C_hsbjuM/s200/steve-urkel.jpg" t$="true" width="150" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>What does this woman do when she sees me? She flips me off! I flip back and find a parking place. She parks in the handicap parking. She's staring at me as I'm walking towards the building and obviously her, since she is where she is. I would not have said anything had she not flipped me off, but she did so.....</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Me: You Almost Hit Me.</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Local Trash: Nooo I didn't. </strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Me: Yes, you did. You don't speed in parking lots. You almost hit me.</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Local Trash: I have liability.</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Me: I don't care. You were speeding, cutting through the lot and almost hit me head on.</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Local Trash: Do you see any directional arrows telling me where to drive?</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Me: Well, here in the United States, we drive on the right side of the road! It's common sense!</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Local Trash: (random nonsense I couldn't quite make out)</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Me: If I were <em>YOU</em>, I'd be upset too.</strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>The entire time a man who was in the car with her is saying "calm down" over and over again. She also parked in the handicap space and I'm pretty darn sure she didn't have a pass hanging in her car. And if I had the state police's number in my phone I would have checked for certain and called if that were the case. So they are following me inside and I tell an employee that I had an issue with them and I don't know if there is going to be a situation.</strong></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not <em>that</em> kind of situation.</td></tr>
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>I do this for one reason, they saw where I parked and my car stands out. This trashy family just might key my car or something and I want to make sure there are cameras in the lot. After talking to a couple employees I get directed to another employee, this one happens to be my neighbor. She is my neighbor but we don't have anything to do with one another. In fact, she has inspired many rants on Facebook. She was extremely nice and assured me that there are cameras in the lot. The cameras were also angled on both my car and theirs, being that they parked in a handicap spot and I was parked fairly close to the building. Perhaps my instincts were on since while talking to her the "calm down" guy came walking to the front of the store and kept looking at me. I wonder if I hadn't still been near the entrance if something would have happened to my car. I simply don't trust people, especially when they act like she was. Maybe he wasn't going to to anything, but in my book you are only as good as those you surround yourself with. </strong></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>So besides not having any coffee in me, going through parking lot wars and dealing with (mostly) rude stockers, it was an awesome trip (sense the sarcasm). W</strong></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>hen is the best time to go shopping at Wal-Mart? When you have no other choice. I seriously can't deal with the craziness that is Wal-Mart anymore. Note to the stocking crew: It's rude when you pretend like you don't see customers trying to get to the shelves. We know that you see us there. And if one of us actually politely asks you to get through the aisle don't grumble, sigh and throw your boxes out of the way. Instead say "No problem, ma'am/sir. Have a great day!" </strong></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> Today's sweatpants brought to you by Juicy Couture.</strong></span></div>JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-80246863145883253602011-08-02T17:05:00.001-04:002013-10-05T06:25:51.501-04:00You Retard. That's so Gay.<b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Retard. Gay. N-word (that word I wont even put into text). When did these words become so popular to use? Especially being used as adjectives? I had a discussion with a friend today and we had differing opinions about the matter. Whereas some people are not in the slightest bit offended by these words, others are simply crushed by them. Let's take them in order, shall we?</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Retard. Only a couple weeks ago I was called an "effing retard". When school is in session I hear it constantly, "that's retarded". Would you go up to a person with down syndrome and call them a retard? If you would, please delete me from your friend list A.S.A.P. For, I don't want to be associated with someone like you. Just because someone is mentally challenged doesn't mean they're stupid. They understand completely that the word retarded is being used in a condescending way. Some of you may have heard of the cause on Facebook, Spread the Word to End the Word. For those of you who haven't heard of it, please take time to read at least one story. It just may change how you think and, most importantly, what you say in public. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/EndtheWord">Spread the Word to End the Word</a></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Gay. "That's so gay". I've heard straight people use this word. I've heard gay people use this word. Recently a woman visiting Dollywood was wearing a shirt that read "Marriage is so gay". She was asked to turn it inside out. I suppose I see both sides. I'm merely speculating here. She was probably wearing the shirt because she is proud and secure with who she is. However, Dollywood is a family place, and though I don't have children, I really wouldn't want them reading it and exclaiming that other things are "so gay". I realize the shirt was poking fun, but this is how phrases get carried on. If it's ok for one person to say it then it should be ok for any other. What if it were a shirt being worn by a heterosexual that read "Cats are so gay", "Wine is so gay"? I'm sure, like myself, you'd assume that they are homophobic and probably give them the stink-eye. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">N-word. The number one word I loathe. I don't care WHO says it, they just need not to. It's a nasty word. I hear it thrown around so frequently in a <i>college</i>, a place of <i>higher learning</i>. My very first friend, who happen to be black, left our elementary school because she was being bullied by some of the kids. It was, without a doubt, racially motivated bullying. Tormentors. It didn't stop there. In my high school I heard it all the time. Bunch of kids saying they'd be going "coon hunting" this weekend. I remember specifically watching Moby Dick in an English class. When the cabin boy, who was black, died I heard one classmate say this to another- "one less for you to kill, eh Robert?" Right there I told them if I hear anything like that again I would turn them in for harassment. You know what his reply was, "I have black friends". With which I reply, "Go say that to one of them then". I really don't care what people like that think of me. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">I don't think words should "belong" to any certain group of people. If a word is hateful, don't use it. There are millions of words in the English language, alone. Can we not use other words to get our points across? </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial;">Because I am who I am, here is a list of movies that I found to touch on certain elements of what was brought up here today. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today's sweatpants brought to you by Blu Chic.</span></b></div>
JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-57488237966490742732011-07-29T17:02:00.000-04:002011-07-29T17:02:28.300-04:00Cutter's Remorse<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday I finally chopped off my hair. Something I experimented with around this time last year, so I wasn't nervous about it. In fact, I was beyond excited. I had some mixed feelings about it after I left, but then after a few hours I decided I liked it. This morning, after my shower, I straightened it and that didn't work out so well. It just looked so weird! I rewet it and still it looked odd. I had cutter's remorse. What had I done?! My hair was gone and I look like a pinhead. I am slightly ashamed to say that I shed a couple remorseful tears. But then got on with my day. I still don't know how I feel about it. It certainly stirred up some memories of haircuts past. </span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I recall my first significant haircut. Mom is going to hate me for this one. I was five and mom said I had to get my bangs trimmed. Well, mom lied. I went from having waist length hair to a pixie cut. Granted, I didn't brush my hair. In fact, I think I'd just kind of pull it out when it got too snarly. I understand why mom had my hair cut, but for a girlie-girl like me, it was a travesty. I don't know if I did something to really tick her off that year but to make matters worse, she dressed me in yellow (w/that haircut) for my kindergarten moving up ceremony. I definetly know some people thought I was a little boy. If I ever come across the photos, they will surely be posted.</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">After "The Great Haircut Travesty of 86" I kept my hair as long as possible until I hit those akward tween years. It was obvious I didn't have a clue what to do with my hair back then. Straightening irons were not heard of. Getting a perm or wave was the way to go. I donned the infamous spiral perm. </span></strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sasha & Me with my Weird Al inspired perm.<br />
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</tbody></table><strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">I had strange and bewildering hair right up until I graduated high school. Besides the perms I experimented with all different haircuts, hair dyes (note to self: NEVER use any type of 'ash' color dye for it will turn my hair green), kool aid for hair dye, peroxide, Sun-In and lemon juice. I spent numerous dollars on pomades, waxes, oils, Frizz-Ease, serums, basically anything that I thought could tame my thick, not straight-not curly, frizzy hair. It was all junk that made everything worse.</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Since high school I have had pretty decent hair and only one bad experience. A few years ago, I asked for a layered cut with long bangs. The hairdresser started like three inches back from my forehead and cut this huge chunk straight back. I knew it was bad when she started saying (before I saw my hair) "This is what <em>you said</em> you wanted." B*tch. It took one month of wearing a baseball cap and a complete year of making it blend before it looked normal again.</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">I will learn to like my new haircut. My hair grows fast, plus, it's just hair. I will make do with what I have and use my favorite products to get me through.</span></strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The New Do</td></tr>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;"> My Favorites:</span></strong><br />
<ul><li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">de-Luxe Rosemary Mint Shampoo & Conditioner (sold on Drugstore.com)</span></strong></li>
<li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">John Frieda Brilliant Brunette Shampoo & Conditioner- rotated with the de-Luxe brand</span></strong></li>
<li style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">BioSilk Silk Strate</span></strong></li>
<li><strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">BioSilk Silk Therapy *This is about $20 for a 12 oz. bottle but you only use a dime size amount at a time (so it lasts forever). It gets rid of frizz instantly. Works really well prior to straightening. It just WORKS!</span></strong></li>
<li><strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Con Air Ceramic Straightening Iron</span></strong></li>
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Today's Sweatpants brought to you by Forever 21. </strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-82194789221670941862011-07-26T16:41:00.000-04:002011-07-26T16:41:53.137-04:00I Should Have Listened to My Parents...Just Don't Tell Them That<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Day two of blogging. I really don't have much to say today. Although, I woke up this morning with the feeling that I was going to see someone I don't like (like ex-family). I also had the feeling that an alarm was going to go off today. Thankfully I didn't see any ex-family, but I did encounter a girl that I had issues with a couple weeks back. She's small potatoes, so whatever. But funny enough, a fire alarm went off at CCC today and we had to evacuate from the building. This morning I told my manager of my premonitions of the day's events. She was more shocked than I was when the alarm went off. (Cue eery music!)</strong></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OMG! She said what??<br />
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</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Since I mentioned ex-family I would like to take this opportunity to tell any youngsters who are madly in love and want to get married this: DON'T DO IT! My goodness, if only we would listen to our parents, friends, teachers, ANYONE for that matter, at the age of 18. It's really a stupid set up that they allow children to get married. I mean if you can't legally drink alcohol and can't even rent a car you have no business engaging in a marriage. I should know, I was there. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>I know exactly why I got married so young, to the first person who asked: I had no self esteem, no confidence and felt that I couldn't do better in life. Heck, I didn't even think I was good enough for community college. Which is why I didn't go until 8 years after graduating high school. What a sad thought, not being good enough for grade 13. Oh well the past is the past and I have moved on. I wish I hadn't done it, but I did. It's true what people say about getting divorced. It's so expensive because it is so worth it. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>On the flipside: I want to get married again, someday. Especially since I never had a marriage, I had a wedding. This time the focus will be on the marriage...not the party. </strong></span><br />
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<div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Today's sweatpants brought to you by Forever 21.</span></strong></div>JMarGohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17819786775619830945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7611125730181419129.post-86227830631166571462011-07-25T17:15:00.000-04:002011-07-25T17:15:55.315-04:00Apparently, I have things to say.<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong> I don't really know why I started "blogging". I have a lot to say about nothing, kind of like "Seinfeld".....but way less funny. I plan on covering all sorts of topics in the future. The kinds of things you can look forward to: Dr. Mario, manners, Happy Madison movies, recipes, Netflix favs, moving mayhem and of course, Cardinal Hockey.</strong></span> <br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Basically, I'll just write about whatever I want. Read it or don't. This is more for me than you anyway.</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial;">Now I must go....My cat, Munkie, (who is a cross-eyed, deaf, Siamese) is very insistent on when he is fed wet food. I'm tired of stopping him from knocking things off of the coffee table to get my attention. It's times like these that he earns his nickname of Juanita Solis!</span></strong><br />
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