<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498</id><updated>2009-02-20T23:02:19.410-08:00</updated><title type="text">* I Smell Bear</title><subtitle type="html">This blog is welcome to anyone and everyone, regardless of race, class, gender, sexual orientation, or political affiliation.  Unless you don't like writing short stories or smelling bear.  Or if you voted for the other guy.  Also, I don't really like it when you leave up the toilet seat, so could you stop doing that?  Muchas, muchas gracias.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>204</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link rel="license" type="text/html" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/" /><link rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/ISmellBear" type="application/atom+xml" /><feedburner:browserFriendly>This is an XML content feed. It is intended to be viewed in a newsreader or syndicated to another site, subject to copyright and fair use.</feedburner:browserFriendly><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-2113549150422463731</id><published>2008-11-20T15:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T15:11:50.995-08:00</updated><title type="text">I Need Some Space!</title><summary type="text">I'm going to focus on finding a job and preparing for interviews and writing, so I may disappear for a while. But I'll be back, and when I return, I'll be better than ever! I thank you for understanding that I need some space, and that I don't mean to be less than generous right now. xo</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/2113549150422463731/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=2113549150422463731" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/2113549150422463731" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/2113549150422463731" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-need-some-space.html" title="I Need Some Space!" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-2819151144644002992</id><published>2008-11-16T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T18:05:33.354-08:00</updated><title type="text">Men Without Shirts!!!</title><summary type="text">Today was the ultimate perfect best day ever! If only it were my birthday as well, I think I'd be dead now.I woke up this morning just on time to meet someone for a tennis game at Buena Vista Park, just down the street. It was already warm out at 8:30 in the morning, and so many people were out walking their dogs. I got to the courts and sat on a rock wall while I waited for my partner, watching </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/2819151144644002992/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=2819151144644002992" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/2819151144644002992" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/2819151144644002992" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/11/men-without-shirts.html" title="Men Without Shirts!!!" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-1077185972902164954</id><published>2008-11-13T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T07:43:32.813-08:00</updated><title type="text">I'm Off To Play Me Some Tennis</title><summary type="text">That's right, suckas, It's Thursday morning, which, when you're unemployed, is like any Saturday morning, except quieter. After tennis I have a phone interview, then a doctor's appointment, then I'll have a few hours to look for a job.Matty's birthday has happened, but we're going to celebrate on Sunday. Every day in November counts as Matty's birthday.</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/1077185972902164954/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=1077185972902164954" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/1077185972902164954" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/1077185972902164954" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-off-to-play-me-some-tennis.html" title="I'm Off To Play Me Some Tennis" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-1970675346569027157</id><published>2008-11-12T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T10:37:58.161-08:00</updated><title type="text">Happy Birthday, Matty!!!!!!</title><summary type="text">Today Matty is just a little bit older than me, as he will always be, no matter how many birthdays he amasses, a sparkling pile of years that collect like grains of sand in the bottom of a very large hourglass. Still spry despite time's ravages, Matty has escaped the toll that the decades can take and I only hope that I fare just as well as he has. I've always looked up to Matty as a sort of </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/1970675346569027157/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=1970675346569027157" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/1970675346569027157" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/1970675346569027157" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-birthday-matty.html" title="Happy Birthday, Matty!!!!!!" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-5258910206697741876</id><published>2008-11-09T11:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T13:12:17.766-08:00</updated><title type="text">Yesterday</title><summary type="text">I went for an extra-long run. I passed this group of possibly homeless people (they had sleeping rolls &amp; shopping carts). As I jogged by, one asked me something inappropriate &amp; insulting (clue: it had to do with the fact that he's a man and I'm a woman). I ran on for about 50 feet, but the question kept ringing in my ears, and with every step I got angrier and angrier. I mean, I've done this so </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/5258910206697741876/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=5258910206697741876" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/5258910206697741876" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/5258910206697741876" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/11/today.html" title="Yesterday" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-5035202637301737614</id><published>2008-11-07T22:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T23:11:53.283-08:00</updated><title type="text">Balls! Big, Hairy, Sweaty Balls!</title><summary type="text">I was this close -&gt; &lt;- to landing a job at Stanford University Press. . . I'd been through three interviews, and though they gave me that depressing story about me being "overqualified," I think I managed to convince them that though I'm super educated and though I can write, that doesn't make me overqualified to publicize books. I was told that I was one of the top candidates and that I'd be </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/5035202637301737614/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=5035202637301737614" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/5035202637301737614" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/5035202637301737614" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/11/balls-big-hairy-sweaty-balls.html" title="Balls! Big, Hairy, Sweaty Balls!" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kW6mHgZNOw0/SRU4BWZqDEI/AAAAAAAAAu4/j61TnJX2tz4/s72-c/cook.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-6409745359717809168</id><published>2008-10-30T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T22:30:55.899-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cory McAbee" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="election day" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="interview" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="American Astronaut" /><title type="text">This Is My Favorite Scene from The American Astronaut</title><summary type="text">I watched it this afternoon, and while the plot is too unresolved and the crazy professor narrator seems kind of one-dimensional, this movie is visually quite stunning, and the director/writer/star, Cory McAbee, did a great job of marrying image to sound in this interesting little film, which I think borrows a bit from David Lynch and Sam Shepard. There's this bit about how the narrator can't </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/6409745359717809168/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=6409745359717809168" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/6409745359717809168" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/6409745359717809168" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-my-favorite-scene-from-american.html" title="This Is My Favorite Scene from &lt;i&gt;The American Astronaut&lt;/i&gt;" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-7259337360588306686</id><published>2008-10-25T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T08:38:26.822-07:00</updated><title type="text">Dilemma</title><summary type="text">On Friday I woke early. I went running, and then I rode my bike to Matty's place. After talking for a bit, we walked his dog to the Sutro Baths and sat on a wall. It was so warm out we didn't need jackets, and for the first time in a long while I realized that  being alone is kind of great. I like forging ahead without having to accommodate anyone else. Even though lately things have been less </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/7259337360588306686/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=7259337360588306686" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7259337360588306686" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7259337360588306686" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/dilemma.html" title="Dilemma" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-4397172794064742857</id><published>2008-10-20T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T18:24:51.235-07:00</updated><title type="text">How to Walk From Our House to The White House</title><summary type="text">Use caution – This route may be missing sidewalks or pedestrian paths.Walking directions to US Executive Mansion2,864 mi – about 39 days 2 hours xxx Belvedere StSan Francisco, CA 941171. Head south on Belvedere St toward Frederick St  404 ft2. Turn right at Frederick St  315 ft3. Turn left at Cole St  0.1 mi4. Turn right at Parnassus Ave  0.4 mi5. Slight left to stay on Parnassus Ave  0.3 mi6. </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/4397172794064742857/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=4397172794064742857" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/4397172794064742857" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/4397172794064742857" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-to-walk-from-our-house-to-white.html" title="How to Walk From Our House to The White House" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kW6mHgZNOw0/SPzE7jasecI/AAAAAAAAAkY/qkI9bgCriOE/s72-c/whitemap2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-8033463909711644100</id><published>2008-10-16T14:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T20:31:38.648-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="unemployment" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="homeless" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="panhandlers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mastectomy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gynecologist" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="indignity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Kaiser" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="unemployed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lower haight" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="laid off" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="COBRA" /><title type="text">Indignity</title><summary type="text">Indignity #1I was let go and I lost my job. Bleah.Indignity #2Last night I was walking up Haight street when I passed a young guy who was holding a cardboard sign that said "I bet you a dollar you will read this sign." Though I sometimes give a dollar to a young woman who sings, I didn't hand the man my money. I passed him, and when I passed something sharp struck me in the middle of my back. It </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/8033463909711644100/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=8033463909711644100" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/8033463909711644100" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/8033463909711644100" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/indignity.html" title="Indignity" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-5495568095354201481</id><published>2008-10-13T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T23:43:25.354-07:00</updated><title type="text">Wanna Join My Commune?</title><summary type="text">My housemate is in the midst of securing a place for her elderly mother. Which got me to thinking.When those of us who are between 30 and 50 years old, those many of us who don't have children — when we turn 70, we'll need to face those years with courage. I looked at this site called The Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance. They say 6 million people today have late-life depression, but only </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/5495568095354201481/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=5495568095354201481" title="17 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/5495568095354201481" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/5495568095354201481" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/wanna-join-my-commune.html" title="Wanna Join My Commune?" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-4809684765872841710</id><published>2008-10-10T21:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T21:24:03.462-07:00</updated><title type="text">Wanna Get High?</title><summary type="text">Then go running in the panhandle, where you'll pass through cloud after cloud of pot smoke. Which, for people like me who don't get that endorphin rush, that so-called "runner's high" that's supposed to be so great? I guess the secondhand high is a substitute feeling. But man, I really wish that people wouldn't smoke anything next to the path. Because you know, when I'm running as hard as I can, </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/4809684765872841710/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=4809684765872841710" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/4809684765872841710" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/4809684765872841710" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/wanna-get-high.html" title="Wanna Get High?" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-255376756619359700</id><published>2008-10-06T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T17:13:13.870-07:00</updated><title type="text">San Francisco</title><summary type="text">Isn't really a very friendly place. I've made a few friends here, and most of them, I've lost. Don't know why, really. I'm kind to everyone I know, and I've always been fairly helpful, and I try to look nice, too. And overall, I'm pretty smart. But maybe I'm not generous enough. Or maybe I don't have enough to give, is what I mean.I wish the world was smaller. I feel really insignificant </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/255376756619359700/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=255376756619359700" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/255376756619359700" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/255376756619359700" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/san-francisco.html" title="San Francisco" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-7677674252577134569</id><published>2008-10-03T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T10:37:46.713-07:00</updated><title type="text">This Weekend I Saw Bonnie "Prince" Billy TWICE!!!</title><summary type="text">* But for those who don't have the patience to read as I go on and on about Will Oldham, I want to slip in a link to this great article by Steven Millhauser, about the difference between the short story and the novel. OK! So the first time I saw Will Oldham was on Friday. A very nice friend of mine found tickets to a sold-out show at the Swedish American Hall. The interior of the Swedish American</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/7677674252577134569/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=7677674252577134569" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7677674252577134569" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7677674252577134569" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-weekend-i-saw-bonnie-prince-billy.html" title="This Weekend I Saw Bonnie &quot;Prince&quot; Billy TWICE!!!" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kW6mHgZNOw0/SOm6uX-O52I/AAAAAAAAAkQ/LfD0ywbduGY/s72-c/865168126_ca90b3884f_o.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-7664937092836394827</id><published>2008-10-01T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T20:58:47.029-07:00</updated><title type="text">A Political Rant, By Ingrid</title><summary type="text">First, I apologize to you if your views don't match mine. I don't want to argue right now. I just want to rant.SO, I hear tell that some voters don't like Barack Obama because he speaks like an "intellectual." They feel he's talking down to them. If you are one of those people, I have some news. Barack Obama isn't talking specifically to you. He cannot see you through the television screen! You, </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/7664937092836394827/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=7664937092836394827" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7664937092836394827" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7664937092836394827" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/political-rant-by-ingrid.html" title="A Political Rant, By Ingrid" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-7373742816961229814</id><published>2008-10-01T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T16:21:53.198-07:00</updated><title type="text">If Only I Were A Housecat, Or A Five-Year-Old Child; If Only I Could Go Fishing And Bathe In Rivers, Like I Used To. . .</title><summary type="text">I've spent the past few days here in my room, scanning the want ads for jobs.  So far, it doesn't look too promising – I can either donate my few remaining &amp; withered eggs, or I might offer my services as a person who works on commission assisting people who assist small businesses to become bigger via their corporate interface startup program. Soon, perhaps, Alaska will need a new governor, and </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/7373742816961229814/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=7373742816961229814" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7373742816961229814" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7373742816961229814" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/10/ive-spent-past-few-days-here-in-my-room.html" title="If Only I Were A Housecat, Or A Five-Year-Old Child; If Only I Could Go Fishing And Bathe In Rivers, Like I Used To. . ." /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kW6mHgZNOw0/SOOkfVRDz8I/AAAAAAAAAjw/hyi_PiLbPU0/s72-c/mensteve.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-8467321394396537331</id><published>2008-09-29T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T23:32:33.249-07:00</updated><title type="text">But Why, If I'm Running 3 Miles A Day, Am I Not Losing Weight?</title><summary type="text">Wow, looking for a job takes a lot of time! I feel like I'm working just as hard at applying for things as I did at my full-time job! And then there's all the paperwork involved with being unemployed, the COBRA insurance, the lapsing 401k. . . and, of course, my ex-employer made an error that I will have to straighten out over the phone. I'm discovering that a few of the jobs being advertised are</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/8467321394396537331/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=8467321394396537331" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/8467321394396537331" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/8467321394396537331" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/but-why-if-im-running-3-miles-day-am-i.html" title="But Why, If I'm Running 3 Miles A Day, Am I Not Losing Weight?" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-2738654547524727168</id><published>2008-09-23T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T14:41:57.169-07:00</updated><title type="text">I just dropped off my family</title><summary type="text">at the BART station, after a three-day visit. It (the visit) was almost more than I could handle, as my family's criticisms cut very deep. The thing is, I'd rather be happy than wealthy. I'd rather spend ten dollars at an independent bookstore than five for the same thing at a chain. I spoil myself in certain ways because I like to feel pretty. But ultimately, as long as I have food, friends, and</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/2738654547524727168/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=2738654547524727168" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/2738654547524727168" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/2738654547524727168" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-family.html" title="I just dropped off my family" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-4539814596054345708</id><published>2008-09-19T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T20:46:16.815-07:00</updated><title type="text">Haight Ashbury Unemployment Prayer September 2008</title><summary type="text">I don't enjoy talking to most people about politics. When people get emotional about a candidate or an issue their speech becomes illogical, flecked with untested opinions and hateful caricature.  If we listened as much as we spoke, this life could be everything. And this life is all that we have.*   *   *Quotes for Today"Adversity introduces a person to himself."  — Epictetus"When I do good, I </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/4539814596054345708/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=4539814596054345708" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/4539814596054345708" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/4539814596054345708" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/haight-ashbury-unemployment-prayer.html" title="Haight Ashbury Unemployment Prayer September 2008" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-3557581731348243079</id><published>2008-09-18T09:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T10:03:36.937-07:00</updated><title type="text">Bummer</title><summary type="text">I applied for a job on craigslist because I really loved the way the ad was written. I thought I could do this job, and just from the sound of the ad, I figured I would enjoy working at this place - it sounded like a fun office, full of neat people. I received the following response - it's very sweet, I know, but it's also kind of a bummer - there really aren't many jobs out there for us </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/3557581731348243079/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=3557581731348243079" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/3557581731348243079" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/3557581731348243079" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/bummer.html" title="Bummer" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-5013663085007969005</id><published>2008-09-16T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T21:35:00.365-07:00</updated><title type="text">Sarah Palin Can See Russia From Her Home</title><summary type="text">I don't have a TV, and because of this I often feel very out of touch - it seems like most people I talk to make references to shows and actors with whom I'm not at all familiar. For the most part, I'm happy that I don't watch TV - but I do miss seeing the Olympics, and I always used to love watching Saturday Night Live. I'm off to the doctor's, and I'm terrified that they will find something </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/5013663085007969005/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=5013663085007969005" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/5013663085007969005" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/5013663085007969005" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html" title="Sarah Palin Can See Russia From Her Home" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-1603993919683455872</id><published>2008-09-14T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T15:48:01.698-07:00</updated><title type="text">Writer David Foster Wallace found dead at home</title><summary type="text">Oh my god. I'm so sad about this. What the . . .</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/1603993919683455872/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=1603993919683455872" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/1603993919683455872" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/1603993919683455872" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/writer-david-foster-wallace-found-dead.html" title="Writer David Foster Wallace found dead at home" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-262039217203139969</id><published>2008-09-11T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T16:10:24.625-07:00</updated><title type="text">Have You Ever Been In</title><summary type="text">a situation where something bad happened to you and you wound up having to console the people around you because you realize that the bad thing that happened to you is affecting them, in that they wind up simultaneously worrying about you and feeling guilty that the bad thing didn't happen to them, but to you? And maybe you start to realize that the bad thing doesn't really affect others at all </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/262039217203139969/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=262039217203139969" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/262039217203139969" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/262039217203139969" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/have-you-ever-been-in.html" title="Have You Ever Been In" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kW6mHgZNOw0/SMmkTIEAEOI/AAAAAAAAAjo/OkbxN1XRCRo/s72-c/me+%26+matt.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-3272724738665078107</id><published>2008-09-07T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T07:47:06.575-07:00</updated><title type="text">Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Woody Allen's Latest Film, Is</title><summary type="text">a) a brilliant and subtle comment on how flat, vague, and remote we are, despite (or maybe because of) our ability to travel, observe, create, and socializeb) a flat, vague movie written and acted with too much removeAnswer: _________________________In Vicky Cristina Barcelona, two friends — Christina (Scarlet Johansson) and Vicky (Rebecca Hall) — fly to Barcelona for a couple of months so that </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/3272724738665078107/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=3272724738665078107" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/3272724738665078107" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/3272724738665078107" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/vicky-cristina-barcelona-woody-allens.html" title="&lt;i&gt;Vicky Cristina Barcelona&lt;/i&gt;, Woody Allen's Latest Film, Is" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kW6mHgZNOw0/SMScYKhhDfI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/z5k5PycXrA0/s72-c/menage.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18414498.post-7171467113657319566</id><published>2008-09-04T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T18:31:19.477-07:00</updated><title type="text">WHY??? WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHY?</title><summary type="text">Well, it looks like I'm going to have all the time in the world to write - my resume! I was laid off today. It's going to be okay, but to be perfectly honest, I'm scared. Yesterday I got my hair cut, and I'm not too fond of how it looks, though I guess it's a professional haircut. To my way of thinking it's a bit severe and old-ladyish, but okay, maybe it's a good "job interview" cut. I don't </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/feeds/7171467113657319566/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18414498&amp;postID=7171467113657319566" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7171467113657319566" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18414498/posts/default/7171467113657319566" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bearsmell.blogspot.com/2008/09/why-whywhywhywhywhywhy.html" title="WHY??? WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHY?" /><author><name>ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03877741066021169188</uri><email>myocardialarrest@yahoo.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13459579853824164488" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kW6mHgZNOw0/SMCJpvfVAhI/AAAAAAAAAjI/z1lrpbbhGOM/s72-c/laid.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">9</thr:total></entry></feed>
