<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999</id><updated>2024-10-24T21:49:51.650-04:00</updated><category term="schoolwork"/><category term="food"/><category term="dad"/><category term="mom"/><category term="halloween"/><category term="sleeping"/><category term="Cosmo"/><category term="books"/><category term="boys"/><category term="car"/><category term="friends"/><category term="music"/><category term="time"/><category term="Jenna"/><category term="babysitting"/><category term="boyfriends"/><category term="candy"/><category term="clothes"/><category term="creepy"/><category 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term="mail"/><category term="makeup"/><category term="mature"/><category term="metal"/><category term="mice"/><category term="miley cyrus"/><category term="money offers"/><category term="moose"/><category term="morals"/><category term="mortifying"/><category term="movies"/><category term="october"/><category term="papers"/><category term="pastries"/><category term="penis"/><category term="people"/><category term="period"/><category term="personal space"/><category term="prison"/><category term="public trans"/><category term="rain"/><category term="remedies"/><category term="romance"/><category term="running"/><category term="s&#39;mores"/><category term="secret"/><category term="shit"/><category term="sick"/><category term="sister"/><category term="socks"/><category term="spiders"/><category term="sushi"/><category term="sword"/><category term="syphilis"/><category term="syria"/><category term="tapeworms"/><category term="tired"/><category term="tyra banks"/><category term="weight"/><category term="wisdom teeth"/><category term="women"/><category term="young adult"/><title type='text'>Alice etc.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-303451432993865794</id><published>2013-10-02T16:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2013-10-02T16:48:15.457-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="job"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kickboxing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="october"/><title type='text'>Hello October.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBIMTXFMExZothce4qsccTb88WQMxyLIsKyqUuNKVYSS0vSHL69Dg_ITQMqURtlzwQixWtqkwLWZIax01_XyrlmsA9VMsdVw_LSx6fpmBWO1Q9GoNUOeTMCj8x45iSsTnuDlYxv_zFTGMb/s1600/october.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBIMTXFMExZothce4qsccTb88WQMxyLIsKyqUuNKVYSS0vSHL69Dg_ITQMqURtlzwQixWtqkwLWZIax01_XyrlmsA9VMsdVw_LSx6fpmBWO1Q9GoNUOeTMCj8x45iSsTnuDlYxv_zFTGMb/s1600/october.png&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy October everyone! I prefer November, but judging by Facebook statuses I seem terribly outnumbered. I have some news: I got a job!!!! Finally. With the turn of a new month, I most certainly thought I was doomed to never find a job I could be proud of in Erie. However, I am going to begin working for the public safety department as a telecommunicator. I have plenty of emotions with the main one being relief of actually obtaining some solid income, and also excitement. Furthermore, nervousness because it&#39;s going to be a difficult job however I am welcoming the endeavor because I cannot take much more of these never ending days off. Sounds like a blessing, but it isn&#39;t when you feel like there&#39;s something you should be doing because your able bodied and qualified. Sidenote: if I were to not find a job by the end of this week I&#39;d have been a trainwreck at the same time I&#39;m due to be PMSing so yeah just say thank you to the job gods because I&#39;d be far from pleasant company.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have also started taking kickboxing recently, and it&#39;s awesome but quite painful. I have been consistently sore for two days following every class; in parts of my body I didn&#39;t even know could become sore. I started taking it with my friend Diana, and I am hoping it helps with my upper body strength and, well, my strength overall. Because I&#39;m not &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;strong. &lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yet.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
ALSO- I recently tried &quot;Rent the Runway&quot; for the first time and I totally&amp;nbsp;recommend&amp;nbsp;it. I needed a dress for Rock Erie because Connor&#39;s band was nominated again this year, so I ordered a dress and it came two days before Rock Erie and I had to mail it back the day after the event. Thank God it fit properly (they send you two of the same dress of sizes of your choice) and thank God I didn&#39;t spill on it or massively rip it. Seriously though, a $600 dress and you get to wear it for less than 1/6 of the price? Yes, please.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/303451432993865794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/10/hello-october.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/303451432993865794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/303451432993865794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/10/hello-october.html' title='Hello October.'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBIMTXFMExZothce4qsccTb88WQMxyLIsKyqUuNKVYSS0vSHL69Dg_ITQMqURtlzwQixWtqkwLWZIax01_XyrlmsA9VMsdVw_LSx6fpmBWO1Q9GoNUOeTMCj8x45iSsTnuDlYxv_zFTGMb/s72-c/october.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-2727507432565319084</id><published>2013-09-23T19:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-09-23T19:46:36.703-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="away we go"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>That&#39;s Just How Her Body Looks Under a Blanket</title><content type='html'>I love my family but I need to move out. And I need a job to do that. And I don&#39;t really have one yet. I am actively searching. My sister and I hate each other and we love each other. Our relationship itself is bi-polar. We will be best friends, decide to go on a run together, and half way through the run she will run in the opposite direction because she cannot stand me anymore, or I her. It&#39;s almost humorous from an objective standpoint. Actually it&#39;s funny from my perspective too, except when I&#39;m in the moment and I realize I&#39;m now running by myself without music. And it&#39;s nice having two closets, except mine gets updated far more often than hers does, and she can squeeze her feet into my 8 &lt;span style=&quot;font-size: xx-small;&quot;&gt;1/2&lt;/span&gt; size shoes while it doesn&#39;t work out well for me to wear a size too big. Regardless, I love her and her big ass feet. I still want my own place. She even told me today she doesn&#39;t want me living at home anymore. Gee, thanks darling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also can&#39;t watch movies when my dad is in the house without feeling really uncomfortable. No matter what genre of movie I rent there is automatically going to be a sex scene or profuse cursing and vulgarity occurring when he&#39;s walking through the living room. It&#39;s not that he yells at me when this stuff happens but I&#39;d rather just spare us the cringing and overall awkwardness while being together to witness it. Today I watched &quot;Away We Go&quot;, along with like five other movies because I&#39;m &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;deathly ill&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; with a stuffy nose and itchy eyes, and I thought I was safe for at least a few scenes. But no, never can I be so lucky. The first scene is John Krasinski going down on Maya Rudolph, moans and all. Superb. I pause the movie as Dad is walking into the living room, hoping he doesn&#39;t notice Rudolph laying under a blanket with a big bump of a human around her waist area. He sits down joining me while I casually skip to the next scene and try to make sense of what&#39;s going on having skipped the first five opening minutes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Monday.&lt;br /&gt;
xx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/2727507432565319084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/09/thats-just-how-her-body-looks-under.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/2727507432565319084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/2727507432565319084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/09/thats-just-how-her-body-looks-under.html' title='That&#39;s Just How Her Body Looks Under a Blanket'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-599017917699119317</id><published>2013-09-11T11:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-09-11T11:42:18.738-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="graduate"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="miley cyrus"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="syria"/><title type='text'>The Wrecking Ball of a Post-Grad</title><content type='html'>So you&#39;d think because I don&#39;t have a full time job or anything I&#39;d have a lot more time to write. I do have a lot more &lt;i&gt;time&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;but not exactly much substance to write about. I did watch Miley Cyrus&#39; new pornography stunt, I mean &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=My2FRPA3Gf8&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;music video&lt;/a&gt;. That was entertaining and really weird. Connor and I got into a really in depth conversation about whether or not her recent decisions are a successful career move. And when I realized we actually had a legitimate conversation about it I decided I needed to learn more about real important current events. That being said, I now know more about the&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/worldviews/wp/2013/08/29/9-questions-about-syria-you-were-too-embarrassed-to-ask/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt; conflict in Syria&lt;/a&gt; then I ever thought I would. Google News is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also spent this past Friday deciding I wanted to go to grad school. That&#39;s a pretty big decision, and &lt;b&gt;I know&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;enough about myself to know that decision wasn&#39;t going to last. And I&#39;m only considering it now because I&#39;m in between jobs and thinking I need to make some huge decision now to fix things. Which is like impossible. My mind will settle down once I get some type of steady income. I wouldn&#39;t call babysitting steady, but it is good money. Furthermore, if my parents make one more &quot;joke&quot; about how little I&#39;d make selling my body if I get desperate I&#39;m going to lose it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And how do people even pick what to study in graduate school? Like that&#39;s at least two more years and after that a definite career path is created. What if I don&#39;t want to do that and I&#39;ve just created a massive amount of student debt for a job I don&#39;t even want to work??? I don&#39;t understand this process of making life choices in advance. Shoot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xx&lt;br /&gt;
Alice</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/599017917699119317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-wrecking-ball-of-post-grad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/599017917699119317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/599017917699119317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-wrecking-ball-of-post-grad.html' title='The Wrecking Ball of a Post-Grad'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-804368335396888329</id><published>2013-09-04T16:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-09-04T16:18:00.900-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fish"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="prison"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sleeping"/><title type='text'>Fish for Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div id=&quot;byline_container&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; font-family: proxima-nova, arial; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; orphans: auto; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;byline_date&quot; style=&quot;float: left; font-family: proxima-nova, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 490px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;h1 class=&quot;headline&quot; itemprop=&quot;name&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: proxima-nova, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 32px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 600; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 33px; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; padding: 0px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory/inmate-enlists-peta-dietary-complaint-20145435&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&quot;Vegetarian Inmate Says He Was Told Fish Isn&#39;t Meat&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So there are a few things I find questionable about this news story. Number one. Fish is meat, in my opinion. Another thing is that I believe everyone is entitled to eat what they want, when they want (within reason, those bath salt crazy face eating people is simply vile). I&#39;m a vegetarian but if I want to eat salmon one night to shape up my omega intake then so be it. I will do just that. It&#39;s unlikely I will but the fact is that I &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt;. If you want to get technical then my vegetarianism would change to make me a pescatarian. BUT WHO NEEDS LABELS ANYWAY? Yeah right, our society eats labels up for breakfast. That&#39;s a different story though.&lt;/div&gt;
This man, whose yellin&#39; about getting served fish in prison when all he wants is some good old fashion fruits, veggies, whole grains and starch, expects to get special treatment for his diet? Hells no. You&#39;re in &lt;i style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;prison&lt;/i&gt;. It&#39;s not even like you have a health condition, which would make his request far more reasonable. The fact that the prison administration or cook or whatever even work around your desire to not eat meat is kind of a shocker to me. I understand it&#39;s important for them to respect his religious beliefs of &quot;practicing&quot; Buddhism, but come on, he&#39;s in prison for twenty years due to sexual assault, which isn&#39;t exactly practicing Buddhism either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Furthermore;; Just some pictures from a day in the life of an ACTIVELY SEEKING unemployed young adult.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0kuY8OmoMO8cK__I3DJ-dr5rFFiZqvbRtwkN0YP7WZxsPWt_SET_gmeru_B9I1qHr9qrxcrHxUptOfpHQnWZi7KvtzPkgPmweAzcsynFmkOwFiOkGovUI3loC8xhkaJ62uy4IeqGRMpA/s1600/Blackout.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0kuY8OmoMO8cK__I3DJ-dr5rFFiZqvbRtwkN0YP7WZxsPWt_SET_gmeru_B9I1qHr9qrxcrHxUptOfpHQnWZi7KvtzPkgPmweAzcsynFmkOwFiOkGovUI3loC8xhkaJ62uy4IeqGRMpA/s1600/Blackout.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Blackout curtains: When sleep time can be &lt;b&gt;anytime.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
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&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgtgmry83lohSanTDc23FuI2Nq3xpas_yGUkWRJboJz-TLwu1KqScmOOUFLbFq894nYLpUZ9mVym9ydMJH9IXVkxJIW2ehy77atlAnjuc9mKKsfAFgX4j8rp7RoNS5MA14G2GGRj6egCJP/s1600/vincent.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgtgmry83lohSanTDc23FuI2Nq3xpas_yGUkWRJboJz-TLwu1KqScmOOUFLbFq894nYLpUZ9mVym9ydMJH9IXVkxJIW2ehy77atlAnjuc9mKKsfAFgX4j8rp7RoNS5MA14G2GGRj6egCJP/s1600/vincent.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Vincent: The only family member who is getting more sleep than me.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZen1ZDYgXKaSxdD3t8A2mJTdlMxvNE0BuZi8kUm-pm8-puZrPtiQ12zczVrHWZ80y985YGyPB-OczUU7na31b4qOr-kuZtcdDZyKH_DdU1xQhUh1RtrUmXzUK6ing2wYE2AyQBLYocV6K/s1600/cookie+dough.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZen1ZDYgXKaSxdD3t8A2mJTdlMxvNE0BuZi8kUm-pm8-puZrPtiQ12zczVrHWZ80y985YGyPB-OczUU7na31b4qOr-kuZtcdDZyKH_DdU1xQhUh1RtrUmXzUK6ing2wYE2AyQBLYocV6K/s1600/cookie+dough.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Tub of Cookie Dough: In case things get really bad.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
xx&lt;br /&gt;
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Alice&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/804368335396888329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/09/fish-for-dinner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/804368335396888329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/804368335396888329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/09/fish-for-dinner.html' title='Fish for Dinner'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0kuY8OmoMO8cK__I3DJ-dr5rFFiZqvbRtwkN0YP7WZxsPWt_SET_gmeru_B9I1qHr9qrxcrHxUptOfpHQnWZi7KvtzPkgPmweAzcsynFmkOwFiOkGovUI3loC8xhkaJ62uy4IeqGRMpA/s72-c/Blackout.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-622389936878567279</id><published>2013-09-02T12:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2013-09-02T12:18:24.725-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lost"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sushi"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="young adult"/><title type='text'>I&#39;m not bigger or better but I&#39;m back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
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The thought of getting back to blogging has been in my mind, laying dormant, for a few months now. I stopped because I didn&#39;t want it to hinder me in terms of my senior internship, and I got nervous and was like &quot;i can&#39;t do this it&#39;s too dangerous&quot;. WOW ALI RELAX PEOPLE DON&#39;T EVEN CARE AND LIKE NOT MANY PEOPLE READ THIS. I flatter myself.&lt;/div&gt;
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I feel like writing again because I enjoy it and actually have way too much time on my hands. I am at the ripe age of twenty two, just waiting for it to straight mimic Taylor Swift&#39;s version of &quot;22&quot;. I am not anywhere close. For starters, I have a college degree from a&amp;nbsp; midwestern liberal arts school, thousands of dollars of student loan debt, and uncertainty if the degree I received is even going to matter once I actually find a job. Oh and I&#39;m not a musician. Really though, how much emphasis do I want to put on what I actually &quot;studied&quot; in terms of getting a position I&#39;d actually want? Sociology and public health, the subjects in which I dedicated the past four years of my academia life to, are easily defendable as being important, and also undeniably broad. The latter not being a good trait for my life situation right now. I feel &lt;i&gt;a little &lt;/i&gt;lost. I want someone standing in front of me, saying &quot;This is what you want to do. This is how you&#39;re going to do it. And you&#39;re going to &lt;i&gt;love &lt;/i&gt;it.&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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That has got to be the best case scenario if one was to lose all sense of autonomy. And the thing is, I know I&#39;m not the only young adult who feels this way. Apparently, according to BuzzFeed and social media GIFs it is normal for recent college graduates to feel absolutely hopeless. How refreshing, let&#39;s all take a sigh of relief. I just need some direction in life, or maybe some income. I have enough confidence in myself to believe I could capture a minimum wage job, something behind a counter taking orders about how you want your sub prepared, or maybe walking around a shop re-folding tee shirts until they are perfectly creased at the sides. But I have done that, and I could have done that without acquiring debt and spending hours writing research papers on environmental justice movements and the cyclical nature of poverty in the United States. So while I&#39;m in this cloudy area of life, between ending my educational years and trying to make something of myself in a &quot;real job&quot;, I have been eating a lot of sushi from Wegman&#39;s, getting half way through a number of books, sleeping, drinking for really cheap amounts, serial watching television shows on Netflix and second guessing everything about my life. Including whether or not I should get a Twitter account back. Ha, and you thought I was talking deep thoughts. I mean, I &lt;i&gt;do &lt;/i&gt;have a smart phone now so I could actually stay up to par on my twitter feed. Decisions decisions.&lt;/div&gt;
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A few &lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;big updates&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;in no particular order since you last heard from me via blog: I have a college degree; I possess an iPhone; I was broken up with; I stopped being vegan; I worked at a summer camp; I tried eating a tuna sandwich and threw it up; I am back to being vegan-ish; I had my first Irish car bomb; I am back together with my boyfriend; I started writing a book and instead blogged.&lt;/div&gt;
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Thanks for reading and understanding my 9 month hiatus. Don&#39;t read too much into the irony of being gone 9 months. I don&#39;t have a baby.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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xx&lt;/div&gt;
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Alice&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/622389936878567279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/09/im-not-bigger-or-better-but-im-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/622389936878567279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/622389936878567279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2013/09/im-not-bigger-or-better-but-im-back.html' title='I&#39;m not bigger or better but I&#39;m back!'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-8997682907431086634</id><published>2012-12-17T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-17T22:02:50.676-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lack of work"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="romance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sleeping"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work"/><title type='text'>Train. NYC. Romance. Jealous.</title><content type='html'>A week has passed and I somehow managed to make it through finals week while sleeping terribly. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s not like I was stressed about tests or stayed up late/woke up early to study, it was just one of those weeks, you know? &amp;nbsp;And I continued to sleep awfully throughout the weekend, no thanks to my Saturday night in which I started drinking a little too early and Connor&#39;s band played a little too late in the night. &amp;nbsp;This equaled a decent amount of time with me nearly taking a nap curled up behind their merchandise table. Real mature, but a girl needs her beauty sleep. &amp;nbsp;Alas, the little space behind the merch table did not provide me with that because I was showing off crack whore type bags under my eyes the whole rest of the weekend. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not worried though because it&#39;s Christmas break and I don&#39;t go back to school for a month. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A little update on my recently&amp;nbsp;acquired&amp;nbsp;temporary holiday job: &amp;nbsp;I quit. After the first day. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m brash. &amp;nbsp;Maybe too impulsive but I guess I know when something isn&#39;t for me. &amp;nbsp;I literally don&#39;t know why I thought I was desperate enough to take a job that I always said I wasn&#39;t going to take, aka, a job in retail or attempting to sell things. &amp;nbsp;I despise those times in stores when you can&#39;t get across to the cashier that you &lt;i&gt;do not&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;want to open a credit card. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t &lt;i&gt;care&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;if I&#39;ll save 10% if I spend $650 dollars. &amp;nbsp;I know I won&#39;t read the fine print and end up owing 7 times the amount of money I even charge on this credit card. &amp;nbsp;My mom would be so furious if my credit score was less than perfect, and yes, I do still care if I make my mom upset because she still let&#39;s me eat all the food we have at our house. She may be my parent, but she technically could cut me off any time she wants. &amp;nbsp;She wouldn&#39;t, but she could. &amp;nbsp;I respect that.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; Furthermore, I don&#39;t particularly enjoy when workers come up to me and ask if I need help. &amp;nbsp;I know that&#39;s supposed to be polite and stuff, but if I need help I&#39;ll just ask. &amp;nbsp;I suppose some people are a little shy and it&#39;s easier to respond to a question than initiate the question, but that&#39;s not me. &amp;nbsp;So having to do that to other people just isn&#39;t conducive to me being in a happy state of mind. &amp;nbsp;I didn&#39;t want to spend my last college holiday break doing that. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;ll see how long it takes until I get painfully bored of &lt;i&gt;not &lt;/i&gt;working and try and get some hours at the coffee shop (my summer employment). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In other news not about me, Tom is currently in New York City visiting his girlfriend, Jess. &amp;nbsp;They are one of my favorite couples. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not being biased because one is my sibling and the other one is beautiful. &amp;nbsp;But they speak in Russian accents together and look like they stepped out of the 60&#39;s. &amp;nbsp;And so Tom took a train alone (ROMANTIC.) to the city to visit her for a week and then he&#39;s bringing her back on a train (ROMANTIC, but a little less romantic because they&#39;re together and for some reason love seems more romantic when one is pining or longing to reach the other one. &amp;nbsp;Funny how that works, yeah?).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I texted him a few times during his journey making jokes about going to Hogwarts (because he&#39;s on a train). &amp;nbsp;They weren&#39;t that funny because Tom didn&#39;t read the Harry Potter series, he&#39;s a LOTR man. &amp;nbsp;And I only have read 3 and 1/2 of the books so technically I wasn&#39;t justified in making the jokes at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thoughts and prayers to those in Newtown. &amp;nbsp;It makes me feel sick to talk about it, but it feels too wrong to not acknowledge it.&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/8997682907431086634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/12/train-nyc-romance-jealous.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8997682907431086634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8997682907431086634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/12/train-nyc-romance-jealous.html' title='Train. NYC. Romance. Jealous.'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-1074712901927612422</id><published>2012-12-10T17:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-10T17:52:28.484-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exam"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hair"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work"/><title type='text'>Can it Be Friday?</title><content type='html'>I &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;wanted to write yesterday but I couldn&#39;t justify spending any less time studying for my Poverty/Welfare final than I was already wasting. &amp;nbsp;I got sufficiently more work done while home this weekend than I thought I would which is a plus, but I wouldn&#39;t have done well on my exam if I didn&#39;t cram three straight hours of studying in today. &amp;nbsp;Granted, all the time I spent studying at home was definitely half assed. &amp;nbsp;I was cooped up in Tom&#39;s old room (it&#39;s the only room in the house where a laptop can pick up free wi-fi signal from surrounding houses) all the while my father is barging in and out with furniture from the living room. &amp;nbsp;He was making room for the Christmas tree... &amp;nbsp;The next time I tried studying I was with Jenna and Tim Horton&#39;s. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t know why we think we can not see each other for a week then get together to &quot;study&quot; and actually study. &amp;nbsp;It sounds like I&#39;m insinuating something sexual but really we just have to fill each other up with details about our love life. &amp;nbsp;So I probably got twenty minutes of focus time, the minutes weren&#39;t even consecutive... within the 120 minutes we were there. &amp;nbsp;Thirdly, I was studying next to Connor in his room last night while he&#39;s learning to play a new song on his guitar. &amp;nbsp;Did I think his playing was going to be conducive to me retaining information from my notebook? &amp;nbsp;No. &amp;nbsp;Was it? &amp;nbsp;Absolutely not. &amp;nbsp;But it saved me some time today of organizing my materials. &amp;nbsp;Obviously the most productive time I spent studying was at the library in a little secluded cubby by myself. &amp;nbsp;HOW BORING AND PREDICTABLE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I got the job I interviewed for on Saturday. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m quite pleased that I&#39;ll have something consistent to do over break, but it&#39;s going to blow if I have to work Christmas Eve and NYE etc. &amp;nbsp;(The job is a product of hiring holiday help at a department store that I&#39;m not going to name because I don&#39;t want to lose the job I just got). &amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t people do that now though? &amp;nbsp;Type a new employees name in Google and find out all the dirty details of their life? &amp;nbsp;Or do I spend too much time watching Dateline? &lt;br /&gt;
I have to see how long I can go without telling my dad I got a job up at the mall. &amp;nbsp;He doesn&#39;t let Mackenzie or I drive up to the mall in rain or snow, or at night usually. &amp;nbsp;He&#39;d probably prefer we don&#39;t drive there at all...too much traffic and stimulation for us to handle. &lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t believe he&#39;s the same man who I went to the bars with on Saturday where he like feeds me alcohol to no end. &amp;nbsp;So yes my parents and Connor and I went to the bar to see Tom (brother) play a show. &amp;nbsp;I love going downtown with my parents and they are definitely more embarrassed by me than I am of them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I lost the $50 dollar bet my mom made me 2 months ago about not dying my hair until graduation. &amp;nbsp;Jenna&#39;s mom dyed it back to my natural color on Saturday. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m going to try to keep it for a while because I like it. &amp;nbsp;And it&#39;s the normal-est my hair has been since middle school. &amp;nbsp;Which makes it extremely &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; normal for me.&lt;br /&gt;
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Dad: &quot;Will you pull out for me?&quot; &amp;nbsp;(he was talking about my car parked in the driveway)&lt;/div&gt;
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Me: &quot;That&#39;s what she said.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
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Mack: &quot;Ew, you just said that to dad.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
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Me: &quot;You&#39;re right. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s gross.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
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Dad: &quot;Wait. &amp;nbsp;She said what? Just pull it out.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
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*cringe*&lt;/div&gt;
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I&#39;m seriously never making jokes at home ever again they fail terribly.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
xxxx&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
A&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;goog_26284174&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;goog_26284175&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/1074712901927612422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/12/can-it-be-friday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/1074712901927612422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/1074712901927612422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/12/can-it-be-friday.html' title='Can it Be Friday?'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ieKjBlVNfTwo6G3hBQ0xn5JZDFyIDoOmJati3-nWbgHlIqG8yxIqdn9BFRhfH26fKCPwTkrtOc9bAGYAV_ym8F25fuxHd54IA-pBrhfv99L_Mav4-iOEOG8OUHimid5rCvoS9VGBS5aJ/s72-c/Photo+on+2012-12-09+at+13.42+%232.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-4801005346284575297</id><published>2012-12-07T23:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-07T23:46:38.477-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="job"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schoolwork"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tired"/><title type='text'>I&#39;m Only 5&#39;9 and That&#39;s Including My Boot Heel</title><content type='html'>And I thought November was going by fast...I definitely expected this last week to be the slowest one all semester considering it was the last week of classes. &amp;nbsp;WRONG. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s Friday night all of a sudden and I am done with classes yet feel like I have more work to do than ever before. &amp;nbsp;Screw finals, seriously. &amp;nbsp;There is no way I am going to remember cumulative material from four classes. &amp;nbsp;I can&#39;t even recall everything from &lt;i&gt;one &lt;/i&gt;class. &amp;nbsp;I believe that if a student feels sufficient with the grade they acquired at the end of the semester, pre-final, then they should be allowed to not take the final. &amp;nbsp;This should be mandatory. &amp;nbsp;If I was a teacher, I would do that. &amp;nbsp;How much more motivation would a student have to do better all year just to save themselves the misery of a week long studying sesh and a crap ton of stress? &amp;nbsp;So much more.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I say that now but I doubt I would take advantage of it. &amp;nbsp;Why do I sound so pathetic and lazy when I write about my life!? &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m the same way with extra hours working at the library. &amp;nbsp;We get emails about &quot;open hours&quot; that we can pick up if another student calls off and I&#39;m always like &quot;Sign me up!&quot; to my supervisor and then that hour comes and I&#39;m like what the hell was I thinking. &amp;nbsp;For example, a few days ago I signed up to work from midnight-2am for three nights next week because we&#39;re open late for finals and we get time and a half for working that late. &amp;nbsp;Um, I already called off one of those nights. &amp;nbsp;Realistically I was way off. &amp;nbsp;I get into bed at like, on average, 11pm on weeknights. &amp;nbsp;Why I thought I&#39;d want to not even &lt;i&gt;start&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;my shift until after my bedtime I have zero idea. &amp;nbsp;Furthermore, Thursday nights I already work 8-10pm and then I&#39;m going to have 2 hours off and come back and work at midnight? &amp;nbsp;And have a final the next morning? &amp;nbsp;I need a personal assistant. &amp;nbsp;One that refuses compensation for his/her work. &amp;nbsp;A volunteer personal assistant. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m nervous I&#39;m not going to get what I need to get done this weekend done. &lt;br /&gt;
That was the worst constructed sentence I&#39;ve ever created. &amp;nbsp;Moving on, I had to come home this weekend (surprise) because I have a job interview tomorrow morning (don&#39;t send flowers if I get it, it&#39;s only for holiday seasonal work) &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not saying where because with my luck my potential future employer will Google me and I will get fired or not hired for saying the name. &amp;nbsp;Paranoia. &amp;nbsp;So yeah I&#39;m home and have an 8 page paper to write and my hardest final to study for on Monday. &amp;nbsp;Every time I bring school work home it never leaves my car. &amp;nbsp;Let&#39;s hope the last week of the semester things will change.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Connor has a show right now and I didn&#39;t want to go because I wanted to work on my paper, so I went to his house by myself while everyone is at the show. &amp;nbsp;He said the door would be locked, but Bry&#39;s window would be open so I could just go through there. &amp;nbsp;&quot;You&#39;ll just have to push really hard upwards.&quot; &amp;nbsp;Ok...So I get there and yeah I walk to the side of the house and I kid you not the window is like 8 feet off the ground. I just kind of stared at it and contemplated how he even imagined I&#39;d get in there. &amp;nbsp;Either he thinks I have mad ups (I don&#39;t) and could somehow push the window up &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; jump through it at the same time or he wildly overestimated my height in his mind. &amp;nbsp;Thank God no one locked the back door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/4801005346284575297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/12/im-only-59-and-thats-including-my-boot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/4801005346284575297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/4801005346284575297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/12/im-only-59-and-thats-including-my-boot.html' title='I&#39;m Only 5&#39;9 and That&#39;s Including My Boot Heel'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-6352931369315197709</id><published>2012-12-02T19:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-02T19:58:11.394-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boyfriends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the romantic era"/><title type='text'>Benefits of Unpopularity</title><content type='html'>Last night was pretty awesome. &amp;nbsp;It was The Romantic Era&#39;s CD release show and I went with Genna, Jenna and Kelsey. &amp;nbsp;We got as sloppy as possible while maintaining a certain amount of class obviously. &amp;nbsp;The guys had a great turnout in my opinion and the crowd was super enthusiastic including glow sticks and beach balls being thrown. &amp;nbsp;At most of Connor&#39;s shows I tend to find myself in between the middle and back of the crowd, I feel more comfortable being out of sight by the whole band. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t know why. &amp;nbsp;No, I do. &amp;nbsp;I like the shows they have that are really crowded and a lot of people are drinking because I make some really strange, awkward comments to the people around me. &amp;nbsp;**A HUGE BENEFIT OF PEOPLE NOT KNOWING WHO YOU ARE. &amp;nbsp;I take so much advantage of this. &amp;nbsp;Last night some girls pushed me so they could get closer to the stage and the boy in front of me looked back and offered to also let me go ahead of him. &amp;nbsp;I said, &quot;No it&#39;s fine I&#39;ll just sleep with him later.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;He didn&#39;t really have a response. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
Whatever. &amp;nbsp;I do know that the four of us had a great time rocking out, and it must have been appealing to some of the guys around us in the crowd. &amp;nbsp;This boy came up to me, mid-song, asking me my name. &amp;nbsp;Then where I was from. &amp;nbsp;Then he proceeded to ask what I was doing... &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&quot;I&#39;m listening to a concert...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
His response, naturally, &quot;Do you have a boyfriend?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Uh, yeah. &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s up there.&quot; &amp;nbsp; *I point to stage*&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If there was a real face for that sketchy -_- &amp;nbsp;shakin&#39; my head SMH face, I received it right then. &amp;nbsp;Do you&amp;nbsp;think I&#39;m lying? &amp;nbsp;Once he&#39;s done contemplating my response he points at my friend Jenna and before he says anything I said, &quot;She has a boyfriend too. &amp;nbsp;Sorry.&quot; &amp;nbsp;He nods and walks away. &amp;nbsp;Peace. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then like 2 two hours later we&#39;re walking to another bar and we&#39;re all mushed up in this crowd because people don&#39;t know how to disperse, and Connor gets caught up talking to someone. &amp;nbsp;This never happens. &amp;nbsp;It happens all the time. &amp;nbsp;And meanwhile these two guys start talking to my friends and I, attempting to flirt with us, kind of failing miserably, and one asks who we&#39;re going home with. &amp;nbsp;I point at Connor and the dude&#39;s response, &quot;Yeah...right.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Excuse me?&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;My sass intensified so much when he said that. &amp;nbsp;I definitely had a little too much attitude (aka: alcohol) when I asked him what that was supposed to mean. &amp;nbsp;I then tried daring him like a thousand times to go up to Connor and ask if I was his girlfriend. &amp;nbsp;I can be so immature it disgusts me. &amp;nbsp;And knowing my boyfriend so well, my plan probably would have backfired because Connor would mess around and be like, &#39;I don&#39;t even know that girl.&#39; &amp;nbsp;So maybe it&#39;s good the boy didn&#39;t follow through with my dare. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This post may make it seem like I get annoyed with the fact that Connor is more popular than me. &amp;nbsp;However, I&#39;m not. &amp;nbsp;I like keeping to myself and being low key with just my friends. &amp;nbsp;If I &lt;i&gt;wanted&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;to be more popular I simply would make that happen. &amp;nbsp;Seriously, what nude videos&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;don&#39;t&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;go viral.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/6352931369315197709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/12/benefits-of-unpopularity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/6352931369315197709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/6352931369315197709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/12/benefits-of-unpopularity.html' title='Benefits of Unpopularity'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-5856108288731145801</id><published>2012-11-29T18:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-29T18:54:37.762-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="creepy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="people"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schoolwork"/><title type='text'>A+ for Eavesdropping</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
Ok so I actually had a very cool assignment to do for my Social Research Methods class today. &amp;nbsp;Technically it was due Tuesday but he&#39;s a pretty lenient professor overall so he said as long as it&#39;s in before January it&#39;d be cool. &amp;nbsp;The assignment was to go to a public place, sit there for an hour, and observe all the people around you and record their interactions. &amp;nbsp;If you&#39;re a people watcher it&#39;s the class for you. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m extremely nosy so it finally felt like a project I&#39;d invest myself in. &amp;nbsp;I went to a Starbucks with Genna and grabbed a table towards the back, but not too far in the back. &amp;nbsp;She was studying o-chem from a notebook and I had my laptop in front of me, hiding the fact that I was secretly taking notes on everyone that came in. &lt;b style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;HOW CREEPY DOES THAT SOUND?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i style=&quot;font-size: x-large;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;It must sound creepy because it&lt;i&gt; &lt;b&gt;is&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; creepy.&amp;nbsp;Honestly, it almost sounds illegal, but I didn&#39;t make these people talk close enough to me so I can hear them, they could have muffled their voice if they wanted. &amp;nbsp;I didn&#39;t think I would have as much to write about as I ended up doing either. &amp;nbsp;I typed non stop for an hour, only taking like 3 one minute breaks because I thought I was going insane due to over stimulation in my brain. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had to set up my notes in a table including a column with the time, a column with the action of the person, and then a column with my impressions on it. &amp;nbsp;Half way through I realized I started writing like I was blogging instead of a research assignment. &amp;nbsp;It was definitely way too snarky to be legitimate research, but it was fun and my professor is probably so laid back that he shouldn&#39;t be teaching. &amp;nbsp;I wasn&#39;t worried.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here is an excerpt of my assignment. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m aiming for an A, but anything over a B- will suffice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #0b5394;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #0b5394;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;TIME &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;ACTION &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;MY IMPRESSION&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table border=&quot;1&quot; bordercolor=&quot;#000000&quot; cellpadding=&quot;5&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; style=&quot;width: 594px;&quot;&gt;
 &lt;colgroup&gt;&lt;col width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;&lt;/col&gt;
 &lt;col width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;&lt;/col&gt;
 &lt;col width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;&lt;/col&gt;
 &lt;/colgroup&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:13:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   An employee is wiping down
   the bar table and the chairs.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   I wonder if she&#39;s a newer
   employee because she seems pleased with herself for completing
   this task.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:15:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   A man around 25 walked in
   and was ordering at the counter, while an employee at the other
   end of the store yelled “hello” to him.  They tried having a
   conversation from their separate locations but the girl couldn&#39;t
   understand what he was saying and did that fake laugh.  Hopefully
   what he said wasn&#39;t serious or somber.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   Almost seemed like one of
   those awkward encounters where you pretend like you care about
   what the other person has to say.  She definitely didn&#39;t. 
   Although, she did initiate the conversation which means she wanted
   him to know she was here...maybe she has a little crush?&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:19:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   A girl, probably in high
   school is leaning against the bar area eating a pastry type item,
   looking around at her surroundings.  
   &lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   I think she&#39;s trying to
   look mature and classy while eating her over priced croissant but
   she&#39;s putting too much in her mouth at once and just looking like
   a slob.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:20:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   A lady and her three kids,
   all under 10 years old, came in.  The kids sat down looking
   impatient while the lady is ordering.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   THIS IS WHY THEY MADE DRIVE
   THROUGH STARBUCKS SO YOUR KIDS WOULDN&#39;T HAVE TO ENDURE THIS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:24:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   A girl is leaning against
   the ordering counter.  She&#39;s taking forever to order.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   I&#39;m wondering if she knows
   the cashier because they&#39;re small talking more than an average
   customer.  
   &lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:26:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   Why does she keep leaning
   onto the ordering counter?&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   This seems so dirty because
   so many people use that ordering counter.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:27:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   An older couple came in,
   they look hip for their age.  The leaning counter girl finally
   moved to the bar side of Starbucks.  She&#39;s eating this cheesy
   pastry.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   Why do people start eating
   their food while waiting for their drink?  Have we no patience
   when it comes to food anymore&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
  &lt;td valign=&quot;TOP&quot; width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:29:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td valign=&quot;TOP&quot; width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   A short middle aged man
   comes in and quickly orders.  Ordered just a pastry but something
   looked wrong with it because he gave it back and waited for a
   different one.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td valign=&quot;BOTTOM&quot; width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   He seemed friendly to the
   cashier even when he returned the original pastry.  We need more
   patient and friendly people like that to come to Starbucks I feel.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:32:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   A blonde woman came in and
   started talking to the older hip couple, they&#39;re now ordering.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   Perhaps she&#39;s their
   daughter, she kind of looks like the old woman.  It also looks
   like the couple is paying for the woman which I hope my parents
   will still do when they&#39;re old.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:34:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   The three of them came and
   sat really close to me, they are talking kind of jokingly.  The
   old man is massaging her back.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   I&#39;m really hoping it&#39;s her
   father at this point.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr valign=&quot;TOP&quot;&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;96&quot;&gt;
   03:35:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;245&quot;&gt;
   They&#39;re discussing a gift
   from Pier 1 Imports.  It&#39;s a back roller thing.  The woman just
   said “mom”.  The fact they are parents to her is now
   confirmed.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
  &lt;td width=&quot;220&quot;&gt;
   They seem like a close knit
   family since they&#39;re talking to the woman about work and her
   friends.  It&#39;s refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;

  &lt;/td&gt;
 &lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is how much my mom hates my blog. A text I received from her at 10:50am today... &quot;Uncle tim told joz (my aunt Josie) to read ur blog now she wants to read it i said NO! ugh&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks for being my #1 fan, madre. &amp;nbsp;Love you forever.&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/5856108288731145801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-for-eavesdropping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/5856108288731145801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/5856108288731145801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-for-eavesdropping.html' title='A+ for Eavesdropping'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-6050821860083777566</id><published>2012-11-27T15:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-27T15:41:18.949-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="break"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schoolwork"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sick"/><title type='text'>&quot;Are You Sick?&quot;  &quot;No.&quot; *cough*sniff*spits*</title><content type='html'>I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving break and is ready to screw up a whole semester worth of work and time because we have no energy left for the last 2 weeks of classes and and 1 week of finals. Or is that just me? &amp;nbsp;Thank God I don&#39;t have many assignments left because I can tell you right now they would not be my best work. &amp;nbsp;I brought home a book I was supposed to read over break and I didn&#39;t even open it. &amp;nbsp;The other book I was supposed to read I left at school. &amp;nbsp;Did I leave it subconsciously? Probably. &amp;nbsp;These last few weeks aren&#39;t off to a fabulous start, but the repercussions of that won&#39;t be shown until my final grades are released which is so far away that it makes it less important. &amp;nbsp;Is that not how it works?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I should really start focusing on my finals since a few of them will be challenging and preparing now would pay off. &amp;nbsp;But, I&#39;m not going to start focusing on my finals. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s why we have evenings before finals. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m already anticipating Christmas break which is sad because we have a few weeks; December 14th cannot come soon enough. &amp;nbsp;I want to look for a job that I can have over break because I know I&#39;m going to get very bored very quickly when I realize my family and friends at home can&#39;t be excited for that long about my arrival and long term stay (a month) in Erie. &amp;nbsp;Seriously I think it wears off after a couple hours. &amp;nbsp;When I came home for Thanksgiving, Mack came home from school that day and went to a friend&#39;s house. &amp;nbsp;Instantly. &amp;nbsp;That sums up, mainly everyone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m also sick which may be a result from not sleeping much lately, but I slept like a lazy cat last night and woke up feeling the sickest I&#39;ve been yet. &amp;nbsp;CUZ THAT MAKES SENSE? ISN&#39;T SLEEP SUPPOSED TO BE VITAL TO REGAIN MAXIMUM STRENGTH? My throat was throbbing &amp;nbsp;every time I woke up in the night and the Chloraseptic spray was in the linen closet in the hall. &amp;nbsp;Far, far away. &amp;nbsp;As a result by morning it felt awful and I&#39;ve been clearing my throat and holding/spitting nasty phlegm, depending on my situation and whether spitting is even an option. &amp;nbsp;I started feeling sick on Friday/Saturday but I guess I just ignored that getting-sick feeling and pretended I had the post-Thanksgiving blues. &amp;nbsp;Until Connor questioned me of being sick because he realizes instantly if he is under the weather I guess. &amp;nbsp; When I timidly said no with big doe-eyes and a shrinking stature he basically accused me instead of questioned me. &amp;nbsp;I hope he overcomes his illness quicker with me back at school and spitting up phlegm by myself because The Romantic Era&#39;s new cd release show is Saturday and if it&#39;s my fault &lt;i&gt;his&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;throat is scratchy than I don&#39;t think I could live with myself. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/6050821860083777566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/are-you-sick-no-coughsniffspits.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/6050821860083777566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/6050821860083777566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/are-you-sick-no-coughsniffspits.html' title='&quot;Are You Sick?&quot;  &quot;No.&quot; *cough*sniff*spits*'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-2475973621614461429</id><published>2012-11-23T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-23T22:02:30.936-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="car"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><title type='text'>I Didn&#39;t Talk to You in H.S. but &quot;HEY WHAT&#39;S UP!?&quot;</title><content type='html'>Wow wow wow. &amp;nbsp;Thanksgiving break is flying by which is so unfortunate because it has been lovely thus far. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m trying to look at it like if it was the start of a weekend I&#39;d be pumped because it&#39;s only Friday night and I still have Saturday and Sunday. &amp;nbsp;Very upset that we have classes on Monday because in PA a lot of schools get off for the start of hunting season. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not sure if that&#39;s the exact reasoning behind it, that&#39;s just what father used to tell me. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s actually snowing though which I thought I wanted until I had to walk outside in my oxfords and small leather jacket because I was completely unprepared. &amp;nbsp;Furthermore, driving with Connor is his car was not good because he only has one working windshield wiper. &amp;nbsp;And the working one is on the passenger side. &amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t worry though guys, my dad would still prefer me with him driving in a car like that than having me drive my car with two working wipers. &amp;nbsp;Although he&#39;s treating his daughters equally which is refreshing because I received this text message from Mack about an hour after it started to snow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;The fact that dad is picking up my friend and taking us to my other friends house is ridic[ulous] am I in 6th grade?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
No, she is not in 6th grade. &amp;nbsp;Dad just likes males behind the wheel; we must not take it personally. &amp;nbsp;I just find it funny because he is so adamant about this and nothing else. &amp;nbsp;Like, is this really the same man who quotes Sheldon from &quot;The Big Bang Theory&quot;? &amp;nbsp;The same man who tried to convince me to set free all of my pets at Presque Isle, despite it being most definitely illegal? &amp;nbsp;Could have fooled me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The festivities of Wednesday night down town were a success, if you call seeing every high school peer you&#39;ve ever known a success. &amp;nbsp;Seriously though, it felt like it was the unofficial reunion. &amp;nbsp;The peers of my graduation class are either all on their way to being raging alcoholics or we just went a little crazy because it was the first Thanksgiving we can drink our way to the feast. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s just funny because I said hi to so many people I probably would try to avoid in any other public setting despite a bar. &amp;nbsp;Not because &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t like them, just because it&#39;s easier sometimes. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s easier than throwing around a bunch of formalities and pretending we can fit in talking about our last four years into a three minute conversation standing in the cereal aisle. &amp;nbsp;That may sound rude but I know everyone feels the same, thus we will all quickly veer into a different aisle at Wegman&#39;s when we see each other. &amp;nbsp;The bars are a free for all. &amp;nbsp;It was awesome. &amp;nbsp;There are loads of formalities but everyone is so much more enthusiastic about the answers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/2475973621614461429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/i-didnt-talk-to-you-in-hs-but-hey-whats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/2475973621614461429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/2475973621614461429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/i-didnt-talk-to-you-in-hs-but-hey-whats.html' title='I Didn&#39;t Talk to You in H.S. but &quot;HEY WHAT&#39;S UP!?&quot;'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-7244514085924374293</id><published>2012-11-20T20:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-20T20:55:20.213-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="home"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="time"/><title type='text'>Defining Unproductiveness</title><content type='html'>I hate to admit this but my last two days have been the least productive that I can remember in a long time. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s so bad that when people call me and ask what&#39;s up I say nothing. &amp;nbsp;Then a couple minutes later they ask what I&#39;m doing and again, I say, no really, I&#39;m doing nothing. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not even sure how I managed to pass the time. &amp;nbsp;I really was just itching to come home. &amp;nbsp;That sounds sad but, in my defense, I enjoy home and it had been a few weeks. &amp;nbsp;Nearly a month, which is a lot for me this year. &amp;nbsp;Freshman/sophomore year it would have been nothing, especially considering I was out of the country for a decent portion. &amp;nbsp;I thought about banning myself from blogging anything today because literally &lt;i&gt;nothing&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;has happened of importance. &amp;nbsp;I just felt like writing. &amp;nbsp;I act like my life is usually seeping with excitement. &amp;nbsp;Genna and I fell asleep on the couch yesterday watching Dr. Phil and woke up towards the end of the world news. &amp;nbsp;That sounds weird. &amp;nbsp;We fell asleep on different couches. &amp;nbsp;If you pay attention to tv listings, that&#39;s about an hour and a half. &amp;nbsp;She fell asleep first and in my head I justified a nap for myself since she looked like she was having a good slumber.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For once I drove home to Erie in nice weather. &amp;nbsp;The drive was so much smoother than it usually is, however no one was home to greet me. &amp;nbsp;Well, Vincent was home but he was asleep and he doesn&#39;t care about me. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s the cat. &amp;nbsp;I think if I didn&#39;t point that out some people may think he&#39;s like a weird half brother who we keep in the basement. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s what I would think. &amp;nbsp;Mack got home from school and like five minutes later she left to go to a friend&#39;s house. &amp;nbsp;Thanks. &amp;nbsp;Do I mean anything to you?! &amp;nbsp;She came home an hour later though and paid attention to me so I forgave her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope everyone reaches their Thanksgiving destinations safely, and if anyone goes out tomorrow night party hard enough so you aren&#39;t able to wake up early Thursday and help with the cooking. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I guess tomorrow night college students are supposed to go out. &amp;nbsp;I just learned this a few days ago when Jenna asked me if I was going out and I was like, &quot;Why? &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s Thanksgiving Eve...&quot; &amp;nbsp;And she said that&#39;s exactly why. &amp;nbsp;I suppose that&#39;s a good enough reason for me. &amp;nbsp;And Gina probably. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/7244514085924374293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/defining-unproductiveness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/7244514085924374293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/7244514085924374293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/defining-unproductiveness.html' title='Defining Unproductiveness'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-5720634130980572241</id><published>2012-11-18T20:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-18T20:48:31.004-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boys"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="morals"/><title type='text'>&quot;No homo.&quot;  Dude, she&#39;s a girl.</title><content type='html'>One day I will probably be on &quot;What Would You Do&quot;. &amp;nbsp;When this day comes, I will be angry if I don&#39;t realize it during the situation. &amp;nbsp;If you&#39;re unfamiliar with the show, it&#39;s where they set up these ridiculous situations where something moral is on the line and they see if &#39;average people&#39; in a day to day environment would comment or intervene. &amp;nbsp;Really I would enjoy being the actress on this show who has to do something ridiculous, but just being on the show in general would suffice. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;d like to think I will be the person who intervenes and stops the boyfriend from slapping his girlfriend in the crowded public park, or telling the husband that buying a diamond ring for both his wife and his lover at the same time is a bit extreme. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, after today&#39;s incident who knows what we&#39;ll do in a time of crisis. &amp;nbsp;Ok, the term crisis is over the top, but in a time of question perhaps. &amp;nbsp;I was at Target and I had already cashed out and my bill was like, 7 dollars or something. &amp;nbsp;It didn&#39;t hit me until I was in the restroom on my way out (who uses the bathroom at a store like Target besides myself and pregnant women? &amp;nbsp;I swear whenever I&#39;m in there &amp;nbsp;that&#39;s the only other company) that my bill seemed a little low. &amp;nbsp;UGH, of course I check my receipt and I wasn&#39;t charged for my 6 dollar face wash. &amp;nbsp;The agony of deciding whether or not to stop at customer service and wait in line, only to have more money taken out of my account. &amp;nbsp;Plus, it&#39;s not like the lady didn&#39;t scan the face wash because it showed up on my receipt...there was just no charge next to it. &amp;nbsp;Maybe she accidentally hit a button that voided the price. &amp;nbsp;Then I was thinking if I do go back to customer service to get myself further charged I could potentially be getting the woman who rang me out in trouble. &amp;nbsp;Why would I want to do a thing like that? &amp;nbsp;If I didn&#39;t charge someone for an item I would hope they would just take it and run. &amp;nbsp;The &lt;i&gt;last&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;thing I&#39;d want to do is have them go to my manager, right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I&#39;m not going to say what I did, but if you know me well enough you could probably take a good guess.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I went to dinner with my lovely friend Megan tonight. &amp;nbsp;She&#39;s one of my dearest friends here at college and is from Erie so it&#39;s a double bonus. &amp;nbsp;We don&#39;t get together nearly enough and when we do it&#39;s always me who inititates. &amp;nbsp;One of those friendships. &amp;nbsp;No... she&#39;s a great friend and more sarcastic than me so it&#39;s a great time. &amp;nbsp;Most people tell stories about their life to make it seem more exciting or more interesting than it actually is, but Meg tells her stories to reiterate how pathetic her life seemingly is. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s not at all, which makes it more funny. &amp;nbsp;She&#39;s a gem. &lt;br /&gt;
She had a story about this dude she was conversing with who was, &lt;i&gt;I guess, &lt;/i&gt;tryin&#39; to shoot a compliment her way. &amp;nbsp;This boy was trying to tell her that she had these beautiful blue eyes, which she does, they&#39;re like a majestic fresh water lake...but then after his comment he adds, &quot;...no homo.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Uh, really? &amp;nbsp;Like you could have stopped after the compliment. &amp;nbsp;Megan&#39;s a girl, and you&#39;re a boy. &amp;nbsp;So what exactly are you trying to say?&lt;br /&gt;
*Sigh* boys.&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/5720634130980572241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/no-homo-dude-shes-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/5720634130980572241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/5720634130980572241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/no-homo-dude-shes-girl.html' title='&quot;No homo.&quot;  Dude, she&#39;s a girl.'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-2533962908143773053</id><published>2012-11-16T14:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-16T14:56:31.088-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="girls"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sleeping"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="socks"/><title type='text'>It&#39;s a Miracle I Get to Sleep At All</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I am shocked with how lazy I can be when it comes to doing things for myself. &amp;nbsp;I suppose this is better than if I was lazy when it came to other people, but still you&#39;d think you&#39;d want to treat yourself better than anyone else. &amp;nbsp;At least, that&#39;s a little glimpse into the mind of a conceited person. &amp;nbsp;So &amp;nbsp;I have some weird habits when it comes to my bedtime routine, or just how I sleep in general. &amp;nbsp;First off, if I don&#39;t wash my face before I get into bed I will immediately sleep more restlessly. &amp;nbsp;My subconscious must remind me constantly throughout my slumber how dirty my face is, which is then getting onto my pillow, and staying on my pillow for a long time because Lord &lt;i&gt;knows&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t wash my pillowcase as often as I should. &amp;nbsp;My concerns for becoming germaphobic someday are justified, I&#39;m telling you. &amp;nbsp;Furthermore, if I don&#39;t use my Neutrogena face wash to wash my face I feel less than adequate with my wash job. &amp;nbsp;This has got to do more with me being weird and &quot;not liking to change a good thing&quot; than it does with the actual product. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve used it since middle school, which is a time when washing your face was actually considered a cool thing to do. &amp;nbsp;I remember seeing the pretty, popular girls washing their face with a bright bottle of soap after gym class, which is weird because those were the girls who would just stand there with the hand on hip (this does &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; cause any sweating on your face) making fun of the girls who were far too competitive and involved in every activity (aka. Me and my two best friends).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s funny because I specifically recall conversations with girls at sleepovers discussing which face wash they use. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;Oh, you use Clean &amp;amp; Clear? &amp;nbsp;Doesn&#39;t that dry out your skin?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;Clearasil? &amp;nbsp;What, do you get blackheads or something? &amp;nbsp;Ew...&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;Oh my God, I just love Neutrogena. It&#39;s perfect for my skin type.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;You struggle with acne? &amp;nbsp;You should &lt;i&gt;totally&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;get Pro-Activ. &amp;nbsp;Jessica Simpson uses it!&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One year I even put Pro-Activ on my Christmas list. &amp;nbsp;I didn&#39;t even have acne... &amp;nbsp;I just thought it would be cool to use it and I JUST WANTED IT, MOM.&lt;br /&gt;
Anyways, I got Neutrogena in my stocking instead and I&#39;ve been using it ever since. &amp;nbsp;Granted, I&#39;ve had pretty healthy looking skin since then so it must be working well for my skin type. &amp;nbsp;So not only do I need that to sleep better I also can&#39;t have socks on, which is so difficult to deal with on a cold night. &amp;nbsp;If I fall asleep in socks I wake up two hours later, massively overheating. &amp;nbsp;Then it takes another 30 minutes, &lt;i&gt;at least&lt;/i&gt;, to fall back asleep. &amp;nbsp;Thus, I try to just fall asleep with cold feet. &amp;nbsp;Couldn&#39;t do it last night, but my &lt;b&gt;laziness&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;kicked in because my dresser is not in reaching distance and God forbid I get up so I just laid there deciding my next move. &amp;nbsp;I pulled off my pajama pants and wrapped them around my feet. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not kidding. &amp;nbsp;This presents my issue with not being able to fall asleep with my bare legs touching each other. &amp;nbsp;When I sleep in my underwear I have to either A) spread my legs apart or B) stick something between them. &amp;nbsp;USUALLY MY SHEET OR BLANKET PEOPLE, RELAX. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s just a weird issue I have, it&#39;s fine if someone elses leg is touching mine, but it can&#39;t be my own. &amp;nbsp;Actually, the only person whose leg I hope is ever grazing me in my sleep is Connor. &amp;nbsp;Otherwise everything is just getting strange. &lt;br /&gt;
Oh my God I did wake up with someone else in a bed with me this year who I didn&#39;t know once. &amp;nbsp;That story will be saved for a later time and it&#39;s not nearly as wild as it sounds, only as unsettling as it sounds.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/2533962908143773053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/its-miracle-i-get-to-sleep-at-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/2533962908143773053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/2533962908143773053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/its-miracle-i-get-to-sleep-at-all.html' title='It&#39;s a Miracle I Get to Sleep At All'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-8531413266112276913</id><published>2012-11-14T13:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-14T13:37:42.608-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="girls"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mortifying"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="period"/><title type='text'>We&#39;ve Got a Bleeder</title><content type='html'>Girls bleed. &amp;nbsp;This shouldn&#39;t be a surprise to anyone, unless you completely ignored every health class since third grade. &amp;nbsp;We bleed, some of us sooner than others and some of us more than others (depending on the time of the week). &amp;nbsp;If you&#39;re a late bloomer *raising hand* like myself, you&#39;re in a way fortunate. &amp;nbsp;It can be a hassle having your period depending on the circumstances and the environment, but it&#39;s also something important in terms of being a female and being able to have children someday. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s like a special bond all women have with each other. &amp;nbsp;I find it perfectly acceptable for a girl stranger to come up to me and ask if I have a tampon, isn&#39;t it an unspoken rule to be generous about that? &amp;nbsp;The real issue arises when we don&#39;t have these options available; when you&#39;re surrounded by a group of dudes. &amp;nbsp;One of the most mortifying experiences of my life, and probably one of the reasons I&#39;m so nonchalant when talking about my period now, was when I first started mine. &amp;nbsp;Like I said, I was pretty late and it was the summer before 10th grade year. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;d tell all you jealous ladies &amp;nbsp;to envy my late start, but I&#39;d much rather have an earlier start than have to experience what I went through my first time: &amp;nbsp;I was on a camping trip. &amp;nbsp;I was the oldest girl. &amp;nbsp;The only adults were my dad, and his three brothers, and my older male cousins and brothers. &amp;nbsp;We camp in seclusion; not a trailer park with rest rooms, not an area with other families, not somewhere with gentle older women searching for young girls who are FREAKING out about what their vagina is doing. &amp;nbsp;And did I mention we spend our days camping usually by going somewhere to swim? &amp;nbsp;If you&#39;re not expressing empathy you&#39;re not human, not a girl, or no longer my friend.&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf25TpP_Aqx3kbeGrr6WahJZaIV_bnrilPdMDzuLuvVOC-O-0Z95guDlkfUuOJ1g62gnTakoVHZXkdCuiB_1C5LDfxJsdsYOJdJkeQ5ZDpawAq9nNjLhzu284jyZ7f8RWn-fgEHG66yMAC/s1600/bush-toilet-on-the-camping.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf25TpP_Aqx3kbeGrr6WahJZaIV_bnrilPdMDzuLuvVOC-O-0Z95guDlkfUuOJ1g62gnTakoVHZXkdCuiB_1C5LDfxJsdsYOJdJkeQ5ZDpawAq9nNjLhzu284jyZ7f8RWn-fgEHG66yMAC/s1600/bush-toilet-on-the-camping.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Exhibit A: The Camping Toilet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Upon initial discovery of what I like to call the Red Stream of Womanhood, I resorted to the only thing I could think of which I know some of us girls are still forced to do; stick a wad of toilet paper down there and face the day with confidence that the toilet paper is the double-strength sturdy brand. &amp;nbsp;UM, I could tell what I had wasn&#39;t. &amp;nbsp;I may have been better off putting leaves in my underwear. &amp;nbsp;So here I am waddling to my father, wide-eyed and mortified telling him I can&#39;t go swimming today.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
Dad: &lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;What do you mean you can&#39;t go swimming? &amp;nbsp;You love it and we&#39;re all going. &amp;nbsp;You have to.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;I can&#39;t. &amp;nbsp;I can&#39;t. &amp;nbsp;I can&#39;t. &amp;nbsp;Dad. &amp;nbsp;No.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I think father intuition kicked, if there is such a thing (which I now believe in). &amp;nbsp;Or maybe the awkward waddle paired with the paralyzed look of fear on my face gave it away.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
Dad: &amp;nbsp;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;Oh...Um...Do you need to go somewhere...Um..To get things?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So Dad and I drove, in the most silent of fashions, to the tiniest neighborhood corner store that ever existed and I hopped out the car, ran in, and bought my first box of tampons. &amp;nbsp;Thank God for the included diagrams in the box because all memories of health class lessons were non-existant in my mind.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
This story came to my head today because we were talking about Toxic Shock Syndrome in class, which can occur with the improper usage of tampons. &amp;nbsp;And some girl made a comment about how uncomfortable the boys probably were with the discussion. &amp;nbsp;I think it&#39;s hilarious/very stupid that boys don&#39;t like it when girls talk about their periods or think it&#39;s gross. &amp;nbsp;It happens to all of us, and you should love it, because that lovely stream means your girl is fertile and healthy, and you&#39;re actually more attracted to us anyways during that time of the month because of the hormones we release. &amp;nbsp;So I kind of make a point to talk about it, not obnoxiously, but just as a conversation and it&#39;s interesting to see who accepts it. &amp;nbsp;Go &lt;i&gt;with&lt;/i&gt; the flow.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
xxxx&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/8531413266112276913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/weve-got-bleeder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8531413266112276913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8531413266112276913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/weve-got-bleeder.html' title='We&#39;ve Got a Bleeder'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf25TpP_Aqx3kbeGrr6WahJZaIV_bnrilPdMDzuLuvVOC-O-0Z95guDlkfUuOJ1g62gnTakoVHZXkdCuiB_1C5LDfxJsdsYOJdJkeQ5ZDpawAq9nNjLhzu284jyZ7f8RWn-fgEHG66yMAC/s72-c/bush-toilet-on-the-camping.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-8004118636699584197</id><published>2012-11-13T10:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-14T09:49:58.407-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="accidents"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="car"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="challange"/><title type='text'>Challenge Accepted</title><content type='html'>Everyday, sometimes twice a day, I am faced with a decision that could &lt;i&gt;potentially&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;be life threatening. &amp;nbsp;To me possibly, but probably more for the man. &amp;nbsp;If you go to my university you know what I&#39;ll be talking about but if not I&#39;ll try and explain the situation logically. &amp;nbsp;In order to get onto campus we have to drive through this rather tight gate and the man in the parking booth has to verify you have your parking pass hanging in the window. &amp;nbsp;Mind you, this has got to be the easiest job of all time. &amp;nbsp;No offense to those men, but they sit in a booth and wave at people all day. &amp;nbsp;Maybe give directions or give a guest pass to every 23 cars that pass through. &amp;nbsp;Usually you&#39;ll just get a quick wave if you have your pass hanging and that means you can just drive right through. &amp;nbsp;After the first couple weeks I stopped slowing down when I drive through because even if they don&#39;t have time to see my pass hanging I still have it and therefore won&#39;t get ticketed when campus police has nothing better to do but search for illegally parked cars. &amp;nbsp;This happens surprisingly more often than not or else I definitely would not have paid the plus 100 dollars per semester for a parking pass. &amp;nbsp;If I was economically smart and financially set I would have paid the 175 dollar deal that was offered in the early summer which gets you a pass for the whole year, but what young adult thinks that way? &amp;nbsp;Not this one. &amp;nbsp;I wanted the pay the least amount of money as late as possible, I just couldn&#39;t justify spending that much in June just to be able to park my car somewhere. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m a dumb shit sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;
Now I have to muster up another plus 100 dollars to park for spring semester in the midst of holiday shopping season. &amp;nbsp;Sorry fam, you&#39;re about to get slighted. &amp;nbsp;It may even be worse than the year I wrote you all letters on notebook paper because I couldn&#39;t afford presents.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I stated earlier about the life threatening situation when it comes to the parking thing, this happens when I drive past the booth. &amp;nbsp;The men wave, but I&#39;ve found when I try to wave back sometimes while maneuvering the curve in the road that surrounds the parking booth at the same time I don&#39;t always feel &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;completely&lt;/i&gt; in control. &amp;nbsp;Yesterday I thought I was going to crash right into the booth. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not driving as fast as you may be picturing, but when you&#39;re driving on a turn and you decide to wave WITH EYE CONTACT (because a wave without eye contact would be like I&#39;m summoning him to come with me or something and these are pretty old men who stand in the booth so that&#39;s creepy. &amp;nbsp;Ok it&#39;d be creepy no matter their age) with one hand there&#39;s no way you can &lt;b&gt;100%&lt;/b&gt; maintain TOTAL control of the vehicle. &lt;br /&gt;
I suppose I could just do a slight roll through the parking gate and I wouldn&#39;t have to worry about it. &amp;nbsp;Or just not wave and come off as a cold hearted snobby bitch.&lt;br /&gt;
But I&#39;d rather face these difficult encounters daily because they make my days more challenging. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If it&#39;s not that I&#39;m basically limited to the challenge of trying to wash my face without soaking my entire bathroom countertop. &amp;nbsp;Or trying to cut tomatoes without having every seed come out of the middle. &amp;nbsp;These are the types of things I have on my bucket list to be able to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/8004118636699584197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/challenge-accepted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8004118636699584197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8004118636699584197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/challenge-accepted.html' title='Challenge Accepted'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-1783955153481611022</id><published>2012-11-11T14:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-11T14:21:26.247-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mature"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom"/><title type='text'>Martha Stewart Home Life and Chile Rellenos </title><content type='html'>I saw on the news that a national survey was taken last week whether or not early November is too early for Christmas decorations. &amp;nbsp;Over 70% of the population said yes. &amp;nbsp;I think it might be a tad early for mass amounts of stores to go all out for Christmas but for home life it&#39;s never too early. &amp;nbsp;I want to be able to enjoy my apartment as a winter wonderland since we get a whole month off from school to go home. &amp;nbsp;Thus, Genna and I decorated this weekend. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;re certainly not finished Christmas-izing our apartment, but we&#39;re on our way. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m kicking myself because I should have purchased all those little Christmas knick knacks from the thrift store last weekend for like a quarter a piece, but I didn&#39;t. &amp;nbsp;Instead I had my dad deliver it yesterday morning. &amp;nbsp;There was some confusion with getting my bc pills this week at the pharmacy I usually go to, so my mom did it for me. &amp;nbsp;God bless that woman. &amp;nbsp;However, they were in Erie and I am not in Erie so father delivered them on his way to visit my uncle. &amp;nbsp;Along with my pills I was brought coffee filters, Christmas decorations, apples, Goldfish crackers (which I don&#39;t even like), and business casual pants. &amp;nbsp;A smorgasbord of kind of lame, but necessary items. &amp;nbsp;Granted, I did ask for most of those things to be sent, it would just be very strange if my mom just thought I needed them in general. &amp;nbsp;My dad said he wasn&#39;t going to be here before 10am to drop everything off so I could sleep in. &amp;nbsp;He called me at 9:15am and said he was one street away from my apartment. &amp;nbsp;Dirty liar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSlAZBalEhpoRqgvStf3vwmFU8_WZrDFjMGMu9ZAmCPicz-OGSk4TxE0cZMVHafJTrLK6Sp882fe6SnbZlmsItsfowFSaRM1UP6eBmF78Ged5m82Xe-FRSi-Rn4I92bN9RcHGJ1M3iR_4/s1600/1110121751.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSlAZBalEhpoRqgvStf3vwmFU8_WZrDFjMGMu9ZAmCPicz-OGSk4TxE0cZMVHafJTrLK6Sp882fe6SnbZlmsItsfowFSaRM1UP6eBmF78Ged5m82Xe-FRSi-Rn4I92bN9RcHGJ1M3iR_4/s1600/1110121751.jpg&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Did Martha Stewart come over?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Genna saw a picture of those hanging balls (haha) on Pinterest and we decided to do it to our windows in the living room and kitchen because my mom actually sent with the decorations a large box of balls. &amp;nbsp;They turned out great except I was reminded that &lt;b&gt;I suck at crafts&lt;/b&gt;. &amp;nbsp;I have no problem starting a project but I get bored and leave it half way or almost done, leaving Genna to finish it. &amp;nbsp;At least I try. &amp;nbsp;I like the idea of doing crafts far more than I like the action of it. &amp;nbsp;Meh.&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Last night was awesome because I had my first girl&#39;s night in a super long time. &amp;nbsp;I miss hanging out with girls because they&#39;re always on the same page when it comes to talking about boys. &amp;nbsp;Leah and her friend Taylor (who I will now call my friend too) came up and we went and got Mexican food with G. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t know what I ordered, this pepper thing (a chile relleno), but I enjoyed playing with it and talking about the shape. &amp;nbsp;And when I cut a piece off the end white goo came seeping out. &amp;nbsp;I think it was liquidy cheese, but between that and the large consumption of margaritas we consumed I&#39;m really now not quite sure.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM76m7v-0oS4meFh2mU44WFu9LRft1vT7MyFTND2sjsXjNrLfs6yMInPnt28johzjr4_NXL3sRJMSEXOQ7JkN5zUcUzuxyiWLhz8VV9wetU3TLsA7TIUND0y-9m0xTlvnw5MU8MrZYxty1/s1600/1110121911.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM76m7v-0oS4meFh2mU44WFu9LRft1vT7MyFTND2sjsXjNrLfs6yMInPnt28johzjr4_NXL3sRJMSEXOQ7JkN5zUcUzuxyiWLhz8VV9wetU3TLsA7TIUND0y-9m0xTlvnw5MU8MrZYxty1/s1600/1110121911.jpg&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;235&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;How could anyone expect me to receive this on a plate and be mature about it.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
Mom read my blog again and told me to stop being rude. &amp;nbsp;I told her not to read it if she didn&#39;t like it and I asked why she even keeps reading it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
Her response: &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;Idk its like a bad accident. &amp;nbsp;U dont want to look but u do. &amp;nbsp;yikes.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thanks for comparing my blogs to catastrophic-could-be-life-altering-events, madre.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
xxxx&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/1783955153481611022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/martha-stewart-home-life-and-chile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/1783955153481611022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/1783955153481611022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/martha-stewart-home-life-and-chile.html' title='Martha Stewart Home Life and Chile Rellenos '/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSlAZBalEhpoRqgvStf3vwmFU8_WZrDFjMGMu9ZAmCPicz-OGSk4TxE0cZMVHafJTrLK6Sp882fe6SnbZlmsItsfowFSaRM1UP6eBmF78Ged5m82Xe-FRSi-Rn4I92bN9RcHGJ1M3iR_4/s72-c/1110121751.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-1512284902252805816</id><published>2012-11-09T12:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-09T15:26:36.832-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="babysitting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guests"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hygiene"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schoolwork"/><title type='text'>Give That Back.  It&#39;s Not Candy.</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I am swamped with so much reading to do for class that I think I would rather have busy work as assignments. &amp;nbsp;Busy work I can complete. &amp;nbsp;There is a definite end to worksheets. &amp;nbsp;Reading I will never finish. &amp;nbsp;There is always more reading for any class I can do. &amp;nbsp;I will never be caught up. &amp;nbsp;Even if I do catch up, I could always read ahead so I have less to do the following week. &amp;nbsp;I never get this opportunity of course because I&#39;m always behind. &amp;nbsp;Even when I try to complete readings I can&#39;t get through a whole chapter without reading 7 consecutive pages and not knowing what happened for at least 2 of those pages. &amp;nbsp;Thus, I have to go back and re-read or accept the fact that the plot is going to become very much filled with holes later on. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s a never ending cycle of torture, which is dramatic because it&#39;s not like what I have to read about is terrible it&#39;s just not readings I get to choose. &amp;nbsp;And the second I&#39;m forced to read something I didn&#39;t pick it becomes instantly that more dreadful. &amp;nbsp;I would list all the readings I have to do but no one wants to read that list, especially me. &amp;nbsp;It would only highlight all the work I won&#39;t complete this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Instead, I will start off my weekend hanging out with my two little friends. &amp;nbsp;They are 4 and 2. &amp;nbsp;I call them my friends because I can say I honestly enjoy spending time with them. &amp;nbsp;These feelings may be partially influenced because I get paid very well to do it, I have access to a very beautiful kitchen with a wide variety of healthy food choices and this bangin&#39; homemade trail mix, and it never fails that I get to watch a legit good Disney movie. &amp;nbsp;No, that definitely fails sometimes. &amp;nbsp;For a while they were on this kick with watching Hop consecutively, which is that computer graphic/reality movie about the Easter bunny named E.B. with the voice of Russell Brand and I had to watch it 5 times the same night, but that was only a phase. &amp;nbsp;Because it was Russell Brand I watched the movie pretending the bunny was on the side practically a male prostitute who doesn&#39;t get paid for his work. &amp;nbsp;It was a little more entertaining in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePwzTHvBVUVnXuW_a8Gas290mDA3esiXiLzbU5JZyPEXBeRCDxTC7CfPHjoikuAPT_qQJhfzFcpshKhwZidZJB8oMGvlhToO0XARh449e-uP0JQyP20RhpFsb-9ctB70Wu8NYV4cBcX43/s1600/hop-photo-russell-brand.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;212&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePwzTHvBVUVnXuW_a8Gas290mDA3esiXiLzbU5JZyPEXBeRCDxTC7CfPHjoikuAPT_qQJhfzFcpshKhwZidZJB8oMGvlhToO0XARh449e-uP0JQyP20RhpFsb-9ctB70Wu8NYV4cBcX43/s1600/hop-photo-russell-brand.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Here&#39;s your real rabbit, kids.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
The movie was mildly decent the first time, and got progressively more awful as the night went on. &amp;nbsp;Last time we watched Toy Story 2 which was AWESOME. &amp;nbsp;Of course, I would still love these children and care for them even if they wanted to watch Hop tonight, I would just probably hide the DVD because if it&#39;s out of sight it&#39;s out of their mind. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m kidding. &amp;nbsp;I will do anything for these kids mainly because they think I&#39;m funny. &amp;nbsp;And I can tell they think I&#39;m smart because I know how to read and I also pulled the &quot;Oh when you&#39;re older like me you&#39;ll know what that&#39;s for&quot; (this occurred when the girl pulled a tampon out of my bag and questioned whether it was candy under the wrapper). &amp;nbsp;No, not candy and please give that back before mom comes home...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Moral: &amp;nbsp;If you think I&#39;m funny and smart I will do nice things for you. &amp;nbsp;See how simple that is if you want good things from me? &amp;nbsp;Start throwing compliments my way and I&#39;ll throw back kindness. &amp;nbsp;Fair trade...and my friends wonder why I&#39;m a bitch to them. &amp;nbsp;Kidding. &amp;nbsp;Maybe?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hung out with Leah yesterday and Genna and I were pumped that another person got to see our awesome apartment. &amp;nbsp;Hopefully she will come back since she saw how accommodating our place is. &amp;nbsp;We accept visitors and sleepovers. &amp;nbsp;This is limited to if we know you or not, and if we feel safe and &lt;b&gt;clean&lt;/b&gt; with you sleeping on our couch. &amp;nbsp;Bring gifts and maybe you can share one of our beds. &amp;nbsp;You don&#39;t have to be like, super clean though, because showering to us, is a chore, and no one is perfect when it comes to maintaining chores.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/1512284902252805816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/give-that-back-its-not-candy-for-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/1512284902252805816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/1512284902252805816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/give-that-back-its-not-candy-for-your.html' title='Give That Back.  It&#39;s Not Candy.'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePwzTHvBVUVnXuW_a8Gas290mDA3esiXiLzbU5JZyPEXBeRCDxTC7CfPHjoikuAPT_qQJhfzFcpshKhwZidZJB8oMGvlhToO0XARh449e-uP0JQyP20RhpFsb-9ctB70Wu8NYV4cBcX43/s72-c/hop-photo-russell-brand.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-5626686520396794093</id><published>2012-11-07T21:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-07T21:45:31.218-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="annoyed"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rant"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schoolwork"/><title type='text'>Rashida!  What a Pleasant Surprise</title><content type='html'>What the hell. &amp;nbsp;I think college professors have this backwards. &amp;nbsp;I just spent &lt;i&gt;three&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;hours on a take home test. &amp;nbsp;This is the second take home exam for the class and the first test took just as long. &amp;nbsp;I learned more from doing these exams than I have all semester long and I actually had to learn it myself by reading, comprehending and applying it to these never ending multiple choice possibilities that differ by one word each. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s ironic because this class is the biggest &quot;in-class&quot; blowoff. &amp;nbsp;People skip class with no immediate or recognizable repercussion, and even when we&#39;re in class some students are doing schoolwork for other classes. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m guilty of this. &amp;nbsp;I often bring reading material I need to do from my other classes because simply half the time what the professor is lecturing on isn&#39;t even relevant to the material. &amp;nbsp;He goes off on tangents and tries to relate to us by talking about sex and how horny we probably are. &amp;nbsp;Um, this is a research methods class. &amp;nbsp;Not exactly the most orgasmic subject. &amp;nbsp;Regardless, my final grade will still be good because I worked my ass off on these take home exams. &amp;nbsp;The real question is, why don&#39;t all my teachers do this?! &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m much more likely to read the material if I have it in front of me when taking my exam. &amp;nbsp;If I&#39;m told to study for the in class exam, I find it a lot harder to self-discipline myself into reading. &amp;nbsp;If teachers claim students will skip classes if they allow take home exams than make your lectures worthwhile and noteworthy. &amp;nbsp;Plus, I was never taught how to study.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank God I&#39;m a decent writer and most soc classes have more paper requirements than exams because I would be failing out, hard core. &amp;nbsp;Example: the bio class I&#39;m required to take this semester only has exams, one being this morning. &amp;nbsp;Not only did I fail to dedicate a proper amount of time studying for it last night, I also forgot my calculator. &amp;nbsp;I honestly did try preparing last night but I was too distracted by the election. &amp;nbsp;Lies. &amp;nbsp;I started watching season 3 of The Office. &amp;nbsp;Which makes less sense than if I was being distracted by the election because I just finished watching season 6 of The Office. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m skipping around quite a bit and it&#39;s making the characters persona&#39;s all jumbled. &amp;nbsp;AND I DIDN&#39;T KNOW RASHIDA JONES WAS IN THAT SHOW. &amp;nbsp;However, it&#39;s slightly easier than skipping around seasons like I tried doing with LOST the second time through.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m counting down the days for Thanksgiving break, as I&#39;m sure most students are. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s funny though because my classes were cancelled tomorrow and Friday. &amp;nbsp;I thought I was getting a little pre-Thanksgiving vacation as of last weekend, but as the week went on I slowly realized not having class isn&#39;t changing much of my work load. &amp;nbsp;I still have to work tomorrow night, baby sit all night Friday, write a paper, and seriously begin reading two long books for classes. &amp;nbsp;Plus, a teacher who is going out of town for over a week whom I have for two classes with on MWF&#39;s is actually making us &lt;i&gt;go to class&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;on Friday just to watch a movie. &amp;nbsp;This is college, woman. &amp;nbsp;If you&#39;re not there, we shouldn&#39;t be expected to be there either. &amp;nbsp;I love ranting to a computer screen because it can&#39;t tell me to stop whining.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The only thing keeping me motivated right now is the fact that is my last fall semester as a college student. &amp;nbsp;Unless I fail. &amp;nbsp;Choose to dropout. &amp;nbsp;Or contract an illness that postpones my graduation for another year. &amp;nbsp;Just bein&#39; real.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xxxx&lt;br /&gt;
A&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
P.s. I get to see Leah tomorrow! *excitement* &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/5626686520396794093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/rashida-what-pleasant-surprise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/5626686520396794093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/5626686520396794093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/rashida-what-pleasant-surprise.html' title='Rashida!  What a Pleasant Surprise'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-8470185547621537690</id><published>2012-11-05T18:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-05T18:24:45.898-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="penis"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="schoolwork"/><title type='text'>So I Remembered About Genitalia</title><content type='html'>One of the benefits of a small university is that teachers make an effort to get to know you, at least the good ones who care about you as in individual. &amp;nbsp;Which unfortunately isn&#39;t &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;many of them. &amp;nbsp;I do have one professor and this is the fourth class I&#39;ve had with her, so she was sort of forced to know me by name and face. &amp;nbsp;This isn&#39;t Rate My Prof so I&#39;m not going to get into whether I enjoy her particular teaching tactics or not (they don&#39;t overjoy me) but I do like the information in the classes she teaches. &amp;nbsp;Her main expertise is anthropology, and since we don&#39;t have that as a distinct individual major *SIGH* it&#39;s just overlapped in the sociology department. &amp;nbsp;I would love to be an anthropologist and at my school being a sociology and public health student is the next best thing. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s what I tell myself and don&#39;tyoudarecrushmydreams. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So this teacher of mine finally caught a glimpse into the way my mind really works and what I remember based on my last exam she graded. &amp;nbsp;I didn&#39;t think much of how I answered one of the questions but her remarks made me giggle. &amp;nbsp;The class is Medicine and Culture and I had to define a &#39;culture-bound syndrome&#39; and give an example from one of our text book readings. &amp;nbsp;Spoiler: &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t always read for class. &amp;nbsp;A few days before a test I thoroughly skim the pages for bolded words or important looking theories and concepts and try to grasp what the professor will think is vital for an exam question. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t know how this happened but I ended up reading one of those side bar boxes with the darker background that most students always ignore. &amp;nbsp;Like, the case-study or just a long example of a concept. &amp;nbsp;Whatever, if you&#39;ve ever seen a text book you know what I&#39;m talking about. &amp;nbsp;The shaded background a different font basically screams &quot;I&#39;m less important, feel free to skip&quot;. &amp;nbsp;Anyways I can&#39;t believe it either but I read one and somehow remembered it for the exam, at a time of complete necessity. &amp;nbsp;So this was my answer for culture-bound syndrome:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;A culture bound syndrome is a perceived sickness related and pertaining to a specific cultural group. &amp;nbsp;An example is Koro which occurs amongst groups in Southeast Asia. &amp;nbsp;Men believe or have a fear that their penis will retract inside of them. &amp;nbsp;This is significant because it&#39;s an example of a health issue limited to a specific population that is directly inhibiting their bodily functions.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Times, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;Legit. &amp;nbsp; And I was awarded full credit. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t think many of my peers used that example. &amp;nbsp;She left a note in the margin that said,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&quot;interesting what some students take away from class...&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Times, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;I also learned in epi class that an average hamburger has pieces from about 400 different cows. &amp;nbsp;And botox injections are basically from Botulism which is a common toxin in food borne illnesses and when injected into your body paralyzes your muscles aka. no wrinkles. &amp;nbsp;Do what you will in life with that information.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Times, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Times, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;xxxx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Times, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Times, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/8470185547621537690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/so-i-remembered-about-genitalia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8470185547621537690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8470185547621537690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/so-i-remembered-about-genitalia.html' title='So I Remembered About Genitalia'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-8696151230362511269</id><published>2012-11-04T15:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-04T15:27:20.689-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boyfriend"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="buddha"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="clothes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="flowers"/><title type='text'>An Extra Hour of Buddhas and Boyfriends</title><content type='html'>Wow this weekend flew by, even with that time change. &amp;nbsp;I expected it to feel like it would make the weekend so much longer and it&#39;s really not. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s just going to get darker earlier which will be somewhat depressing. &amp;nbsp;Meh. &amp;nbsp;Who cares, though. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s winter time and November&amp;lt;3 and I&#39;m pleased with that. &amp;nbsp;My beautiful boyfriend visited me last night with his brother Bryant and Rakim. &amp;nbsp;They arrived here before I was done babysitting so they stopped by to get my keys where I was babysitting and just made themselves at home. &amp;nbsp;I felt very inferior when I had to request they let me into my own apartment complex since I had earlier relinquished my keys. &amp;nbsp;These waiting in my bedroom made up for that feeling.&lt;br /&gt;
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I think he prides himself on the element of surprise because I wasn&#39;t expecting them at all and I was pissed they weren&#39;t my favorite flower, daisies. &amp;nbsp;Once I read the note I was less pissed because at least he tried. &amp;nbsp;Joking joking joking. &amp;nbsp;SERIOUSLY JOKING. &amp;nbsp;I would have been ecstatic (and confused) if the boy had put even weeds in a vase for me. &amp;nbsp;Although I feel like he&#39;d be trying to tell me something not so good if that were the case.&lt;/div&gt;
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Ty, a mutual friend of both Bryant and myself, also came over because he hadn&#39;t seen Bryant in years. &amp;nbsp;For a while we thought Bry was just trying to silently terminate the friendship with Ty because he consistently avoided texts that Ty would send, but he&#39;s a resistant boy. &amp;nbsp;And alas, I finally remembered to give Ty his Buddha figurine which Genna and I bought for him in Australia to add to his collection. &amp;nbsp;We got back from Australia in June of 2011, and I gave him his gift last night. &amp;nbsp;Nice. &amp;nbsp;Oh, and did I mention Ty forgot it last night in the living room when he left? &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ll try and give it to him next year I guess.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Patiently waiting for his true owner.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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Genna and I went thrift shopping (a favorite bonding activity of ours) yesterday and we were both successful with a few buys, but I got the good end of the deal this time. &amp;nbsp;The lady waiting on us at the cashier was getting frustrated (I think she was new) and ended up only charging me for my first item...when I had four total. &amp;nbsp;She told me with her mouth that my total was $3.88 while she told me with her eyes that if I shouldn&#39;t question her because I&#39;ll be saving myself $15. &amp;nbsp;Then Gen gets her two items rung up for $13. &amp;nbsp;We win some we lose some. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s ok though because I paid her in cold hard cash for this months utility bills which is a huge deal.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/8696151230362511269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/an-extra-hour-of-buddhas-and-boyfriends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8696151230362511269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/8696151230362511269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/an-extra-hour-of-buddhas-and-boyfriends.html' title='An Extra Hour of Buddhas and Boyfriends'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5uQEkQU3e01g14x5rz7detryL_9bJm56gbWXFboTXu4I7YbhQzw18spc-91nFWrUV_FSCC3RHEFec52LDnEICeqP1V_M4tCRS-YsAziJRs7P0mt7IhdbKVnekn6A4UKKrytYXwZe5j75X/s72-c/1104121457-1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-4319461183870752282</id><published>2012-11-02T16:00:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2012-11-02T16:00:54.535-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="advertisements"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cheese"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hands"/><title type='text'>20 Seconds Can Get You a lot of Twitter Scrolling</title><content type='html'>Being a public health student I have the tendency to pay pretty good attention to my own health. &amp;nbsp;Weird, right? &amp;nbsp;I also have been forced to pay attention to the health awareness that surrounds us. &amp;nbsp;I literally wash my hands probably 25 times a day. &amp;nbsp;I think that&#39;s still not enough from the perspective of the health people in power(?) but to me I&#39;m surprised I still have skin on my hands. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not germaphobic, yet, but give it time. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s not a funny joke though because I know there are people who are actually like that and constantly wear gloves and freak when they go in public. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t know those people personally but they exist the TLC channel. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t want to be like that. &amp;nbsp;BUT I am a believer in the idea (and obvious knowledge) that washing our hands is one of the best ways to combat sicknesses. &amp;nbsp;That, and eating healthy, but that&#39;s something I could talk fiercely about for blogs on end. &amp;nbsp;Today I was washing my hands after one of my bathroom visits (I act like I visit them for fun) and I actually read the public ad about hand sanitation that is posted right on the mirror and still no one probably notices is even there. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;TWENTY SECONDS?&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; Do these people think we have time to spare in our days? &amp;nbsp;I can&#39;t be bothered with that! &amp;nbsp;I need to effing check my Twitter! &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve never actually considered this 20 second washing before. &amp;nbsp;Or tried it. &amp;nbsp;Twenty seconds is a long freaking time, in the grand scheme of a bathroom visit. &amp;nbsp;I tried it and three people had washed their hands in the time period where I was still lathering up. &amp;nbsp;They were looking at me like I had some type of fetish going on with massaging my hands together. &amp;nbsp;I just smiled at them through the mirror and basically said this with my eyes. &amp;nbsp;UM, NO BITCHES THIS IS WHAT I CALL PROPER HAND CLEANSING THAT IS GONNA KEEP ME FROM GETTIN THE DAMN FLU YOU&#39;LL HAVE NEXT WEEK. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;But seriously...&lt;/div&gt;
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Sidetracking...but sort of public announcement related?&lt;/div&gt;
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And then this afternoon I see a notice by my apartment elevator that signifies wet paint. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not going to disclose the maker of the advertisement/notice because for some reason it feels wrong and like a form of defacement towards the company? &amp;nbsp;So I cut out part of the company when I took a pic of the paper so you couldn&#39;t tell who made it.&lt;/div&gt;
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I have a big problem with this ad. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not even a full throttle environmentalist, but I&#39;m aware of environmental issues and I care about the Earth in general. &amp;nbsp;Shouldn&#39;t we all? &amp;nbsp;This picture is awful. &amp;nbsp;Why would we want to cover up the Earth with paint? &amp;nbsp;Why don&#39;t they just say &amp;nbsp;&quot;Help us mask nature with our smelly acrylic! &amp;nbsp;Screw natural greenery, we have green from a can. &amp;nbsp;Mmmm.&quot; &amp;nbsp;As if that&#39;s not bad enough, what if I was illiterate!? &amp;nbsp;The picture would look like a higher power is pouring a can of red (obviously one would assume blood) over the world. &amp;nbsp;Dear Sherwin, is that the type of message you want to send to illiterate America? &amp;nbsp;Any color pick would have been better than red. &amp;nbsp;Yellow, just pour down the sunshine. &amp;nbsp;Or orange, pour cheese on us. &amp;nbsp;Americans would love that.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/4319461183870752282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/20-seconds-can-get-you-lot-of-twitter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/4319461183870752282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/4319461183870752282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/11/20-seconds-can-get-you-lot-of-twitter.html' title='20 Seconds Can Get You a lot of Twitter Scrolling'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVf4ra4gsGwPHBzhQGMjr1U45KH9wju3s4NKZ85L0MCEptAPj4HP0VwBT4opgZ3JVAVQ4HmniuGrCjSoHODe5i41EfdtD_xxS_ZRGG4QwRZrX7YPl_U3ajYEzo6muBSz1wBI_5wpVaSSbo/s72-c/1102121223.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-5000892601314688683</id><published>2012-10-31T17:49:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-31T17:49:22.531-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="clowns"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="creepy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="halloween"/><title type='text'>WHO GAVE THIS CHILD A GUN?</title><content type='html'>Finally it&#39;s almost November. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s really the only reason I&#39;ve been looking forward to Halloween, for it means the start of November is the next day and that&#39;s my favorite month. &amp;nbsp;I love everything about Thanksgiving and since we live in America we start celebrating the Christmas season basically tomorrow as well... SO COMMERCIALIZED but I like Christmas lights and making cookies and the smell of snow and presents (I&#39;m honest, not greedy). &amp;nbsp;It is ironic I like Thanksgiving because I don&#39;t eat turkey, but there is a product on the market called Tofurky and it&#39;s not nearly as bad as it sounds. &amp;nbsp;In fact, I think it&#39;s delicious and even better tasting. &amp;nbsp;I can picture most people reading this saying out loud, &quot;It&#39;s &lt;i style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;not&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;the same thing&quot;. &amp;nbsp;Whatever. &amp;nbsp;It tastes good in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;
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One of my teachers asked us all what we were going to be for Halloween and no one said anything because I&#39;m pretty sure no one is going out in this weather. &amp;nbsp;I think most cities even around here have officially postponed Halloween which kinda sucks in my opinion because I just want to focus on Thanksgiving. &amp;nbsp;Three weeks from tomorrow. &amp;nbsp;Craziness. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s weird because I can barely remember any costumes I dressed up in during my childhood. &amp;nbsp;Again, I have an extremely poor memory. &amp;nbsp;Halloween was considered a big deal when we were younger though. &amp;nbsp;We would go to my Uncle Tim and Aunt Cathy&#39;s house (her birthday is today too!) and they would go all out the party every year. &amp;nbsp;I remember being very scared that night because my sibs and I were among the youngest ones there, as it was mainly adults. &amp;nbsp;And these adults were very much dressed up. &amp;nbsp;My mom would make me sit next to witches and shit and that may be why to this day I&#39;m not a huge fan of the whole ordeal. &amp;nbsp;Plus one year I seem to have been dressed very psycho-like. &lt;br /&gt;
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As if you can&#39;t tell, I&#39;m a clown and yes, that is a gun in my hand. &amp;nbsp;This is not ok. &amp;nbsp;How did the person taking this photo not tell me to put that down? &amp;nbsp;Was I carrying this the whole night? &amp;nbsp;Did I pretend to shoot people? &amp;nbsp;And &lt;i&gt;why &lt;/i&gt;is my face like that? &amp;nbsp;It looks like I just took major pleasure in attacking anti-clown protestors.&amp;nbsp; I will ignore the fact that I didn&#39;t seem to need a mask and I could simply smile as hard as my cheeks would let me and it would be just as unsettling. &amp;nbsp;I hope I didn&#39;t trick or treat like this. &amp;nbsp;No wonder I never had any friends to go with, after this year the parents of my friends probably decided to let me be on Halloween night. &amp;nbsp;The good thing about seeing me in this costume is realizing my parents knew how to economize their money in regards to costumes. &amp;nbsp;I think we must have had some type of rotation system going on because I believe this is the year before.&lt;/div&gt;
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Tom went the more conventional route of swapping the gun for the big red nose, but for that there are clearly personal side effects. &amp;nbsp;Compare my face to his and tell me I didn&#39;t have more fun.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/5000892601314688683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/10/who-gave-this-child-gun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/5000892601314688683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/5000892601314688683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/10/who-gave-this-child-gun.html' title='WHO GAVE THIS CHILD A GUN?'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKfeAgK9zVxn2uHYPopnWj_V9yDU98DtkUIu7mvjor4kMVVvFFdnnKmUMzMXREgQOyOpTIkTBHtVELmY2gXwUqovpIMPx-uxAFxQJax-_VXJrWUoFaKKcmPw9-cf-_1s-IwN1FmfLnhT9h/s72-c/30390_1335759521705_6010228_n.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4317438760709841999.post-7842442201348843546</id><published>2012-10-29T14:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-29T14:45:26.284-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="checkout"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="halloween"/><title type='text'>&quot;Oh! Cinderella?&quot;  No, I&#39;m a Pirate..</title><content type='html'>For someone who isn&#39;t crazy about fall and is less than&amp;nbsp;thrilled about October in general, I celebrated with festivities pretty much the entire weekend. &amp;nbsp;Like I wrote previously, I did the whole haunted house thing Friday night, chilled with Mack most of the day Saturday (completely avoiding my epidemiology project), attended Jay and John&#39;s Halloween bash that evening, and spent yesterday carving arguably the third worst pumpkin out of like the 10 people in the room. &amp;nbsp;Jenna and I went all out for our costumes for the party and were hoping it wasn&#39;t going to be like some parties that say &quot;wear a costume if you&#39;d like&quot; and there&#39;s one person who sticks out like a sore thumb.&amp;nbsp; We did not want to be those phalanges, but we said YOLO.&lt;br /&gt;
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Luckily a good portion of the group did follow suit and dressed up amusingly. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpYZytEHktSpset4UhvrGnIDsjRIsnsyU0efe7I6nu-ccqLlkgi1UgCkMHtCZ8H9n0w0MiA62y9LcFhK3hocK9UW2RGlzM9USvRVKQZs7LSfI8wWm4YtXICSje6SlyzbmPfysg3wziie2p/s1600/1.jpeg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpYZytEHktSpset4UhvrGnIDsjRIsnsyU0efe7I6nu-ccqLlkgi1UgCkMHtCZ8H9n0w0MiA62y9LcFhK3hocK9UW2RGlzM9USvRVKQZs7LSfI8wWm4YtXICSje6SlyzbmPfysg3wziie2p/s1600/1.jpeg&quot; width=&quot;238&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Pirate (or Cinderella in Rags) and John Donkey Democrat&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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The fun that I had Saturday night outweighed the regret I had the following morning of choosing to end my night drinking the Jungle Juice they provided. &amp;nbsp;Last night I saw &quot;The Perks of Being a Wallflower&quot;, and if you haven&#39;t read the book you should. &amp;nbsp;The movie did a great job of following the book but I do sort of wish they chose an American actress to play the role of Sam, the American high school student. &amp;nbsp;Emma Watson is beautiful and a great actress but I kept hearing her accent come up.&amp;nbsp; It could have been because I was sort of looking for it and therefore just created it. &amp;nbsp;Seeing the movie was a nice break from remembering being admonished by my&amp;nbsp;father for having to drive back to Cleveland in Hurricane Sandy this morning. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s funny because I was getting yelled at before the actual occurrence of me driving to school even happened. &amp;nbsp;So I was just a mess most of last night because of that and I was so tired and on edge and all round not good company. &amp;nbsp;I will be so grateful when this day is over and I can sleep for hours on end. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m currently very sleep deprived as you can probably tell, I&#39;m switching ideas every other sentence. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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One more idea switch, I hate self check-out lines at stores. &amp;nbsp;Those &lt;b&gt;do not&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;save time, I don&#39;t care how long the line is. &amp;nbsp;We used one last night at Wal-Mart, and I offered to bag Connor&#39;s purchases for him after he scanned them because I am a superb and thoughtful girlfriend. &amp;nbsp;Worst. &amp;nbsp;Idea. &amp;nbsp;Ever. &amp;nbsp;After three items I caused the &lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&quot;Please Wait for Assistance&quot;&lt;/span&gt; screen and loud verbal message to pop up and we just waited till it went away. &amp;nbsp;Then the screen popped up like two more times throughout the transaction. &amp;nbsp;It shouldn&#39;t be as hard as they make it. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m just putting the stuff in a bag, why do I have to set it down first so it gets weighed. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s all just a sloppy system that I never want to deal with again.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m pretty sure Connor doesn&#39;t want me to deal with it&amp;nbsp;again either,&amp;nbsp;mainly when he&#39;s with me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Happy Monday and endless rain should cancel classes.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/feeds/7842442201348843546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/10/oh-cinderella-no-im-pirate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/7842442201348843546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4317438760709841999/posts/default/7842442201348843546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliceetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/10/oh-cinderella-no-im-pirate.html' title='&quot;Oh! Cinderella?&quot;  No, I&#39;m a Pirate..'/><author><name>Alice </name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09022010722681207474</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-2_ixUjj4TnGUOSY9rxEf9UhcNsMxuO5JFDtHevREhz4stzmvClKP_sLdVbtMKD46FnmFSD1AkmSiywftQ5jMG5x8RT9VqeRqjz6x-8Poqpgc_5rbD23_DdQqgiVr0k/s220/Photo+on+2012-11-08+at+13.31+%233.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nEbAlwZGh32yod9RMIYzEdV6BuS6USgehLwl8wozhATYLeeAsEqsAU3vgQmzoh1mpuxAO_2-XUiDtJyD6jfVQ92yRbkUsY3lP231UX6RnDdxqisLOAUD2NkvORAL_p9PJIA2LfSuwbaE/s72-c/tumblr_lsqna6Ex6B1qbxh0uo1_r3_1280.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>