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<?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/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EGRHo8fyp7ImA9WhRaFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:47:05.477-10:00</updated><category term="Craig Silvey" /><category term="Jeffrey Leonard" /><category term="Be Good Tanyas" /><category term="Big Star" /><category term="Amy Lavere" /><category term="John Kerry" /><category term="good charlotte" /><category term="hippies" /><category term="That 70s Show" /><category term="Colbert Report" /><category term="Memphis" /><category term="The Cleaner" /><category term="In The Street" /><category term="hipsters" /><category term="Julie Markowitz" /><category term="ford motors" /><category term="accenture" /><category term="Lucinda Williams" /><category term="Weeds" /><category term="vendor payment terms" /><category term="mbta" /><category term="Nirvana" /><category term="Carole King" /><category term="Blessed" /><category term="Hank Moody" /><category term="Stephen Colbert" /><category term="Warren Zevon" /><category term="scooters" /><category term="Lynyrd Skynyrd" /><category term="PDA" /><category term="Dan Reeder" /><category term="punks" /><category term="boston university" /><category term="Bill O'Reilly" /><category term="Jim Dickinson" /><category term="bus" /><category term="commuting" /><category term="Gilmore Girls" /><category term="Facebook" /><category term="NPR" /><category term="Sharon Little" /><category term="Californication" /><category term="google" /><title>My Thoughts: More Important Than Yours</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>133</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours" /><feedburner:info uri="mythoughtsmoreimportantthanyours" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QHQ3s4cCp7ImA9WhdWF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-2317694936308788787</id><published>2011-09-10T16:35:00.002-09:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T16:42:12.538-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-10T16:42:12.538-09:00</app:edited><title>Switching to literature tonight</title><content type="html">I'm studying publishing, so that qualifies me to give my opinion on literary stuff, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on (read: procrastinating) a short assignment for one of my classes and it's gotten me thinking about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gone With the Wind.  &lt;/span&gt;I love when classic literature like this still resonates in the 21st century.  She may wear ridiculous dresses and use dated language, but at her core Scarlett O'Hara is the quintessential 21st century woman.  She's independent and capable, but she really just wants to be loved.  And at the end of the day, isn't that what we're all looking for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-2317694936308788787?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dzM_Snh0ZSBuLiDODUdE44NyD4I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dzM_Snh0ZSBuLiDODUdE44NyD4I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/yEmONSNS-1g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/2317694936308788787/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=2317694936308788787" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/2317694936308788787?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/2317694936308788787?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/yEmONSNS-1g/switching-to-literature-tonight.html" title="Switching to literature tonight" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/09/switching-to-literature-tonight.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YBR3w9fCp7ImA9WhdTF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-1001480148459441024</id><published>2011-07-15T14:55:00.007-09:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T17:59:16.264-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-15T17:59:16.264-09:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amy Lavere" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Memphis" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Craig Silvey" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Jim Dickinson" /><title>Back again, and an album review!</title><content type="html">Hi, blog.  Sorry I'm so lazy, but I did warn you, so you can't be too mad.  I would say I've been really busy, but that would be a lie.  I haven't been busy at all.  I've watched five seasons of "Say Yes to the Dress" on Netflix in the past two weeks.  So there's no good excuse for not writing, except that it's hard .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned in a&lt;a href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/05/music-fest-day-1.html"&gt; previous post &lt;/a&gt;that one of my favorite artists, Amy Lavere, is putting out a new album this summer.  It's called "Stranger Me" and the US release date is July 19th.  If you live in Memphis, the album release party is tomorrow night at the &lt;a href="http://www.levittshell.org/"&gt;Levitt Shell&lt;/a&gt;.  If you live anywhere but Boston, check out her &lt;a href="http://amylavere.com/shows"&gt;tour dates&lt;/a&gt;--she'll be all over the country this summer.  "Stranger Me" is &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/2011/07/10/137706594/first-listen-amy-lavere-stranger-me"&gt;streaming on NPR &lt;/a&gt;until the 19th.  It's been my go-to music for the past week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should preface this next part by saying that as a longtime fan, I was expecting a lot--maybe too much--from this album.  That's not to say I don't like it, because I really do, but it explains why I might be overly critical at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If her music is any indication, Amy has had some seriously bad luck with relationships.  I like to feel sorry for myself sometimes, but her suffering kicks my suffering's ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, a real music reviewer might pick a couple of standout tracks to discuss in more depth, but I can't choose just a few tracks when I have intelligent, fascinating things to say about almost all of them!  Best thing about blogging: no word limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Damn Love Song" perfectly captures the resentment that builds up toward the end of a relationship.  "Here's your damn love song, and don't it say it all."&lt;br /&gt;-"You Can't Keep Me"-Supposedly this one's about quitting a job, but it works as an angry breakup song, too.&lt;br /&gt;-"Red Banks"- This is one of my favorites.  She talks about walking along the river (she doesn't get specific, but come on--the Mississippi is the only real river) with a suspicious lover...then suddenly she's insisting, "I didn't push him in.  Lord, he'd a killed me if I did."  She so pushed him.   This homicidal tendency is a holdover from her earlier albums, in which she made numerous references to doing away with a lover.  I choose to interpret this as her being an empowered woman, not a crazy bitch.  There's a difference. Seriously!&lt;br /&gt;-"A Great Divide"- Post-breakup euphoria.  She's left his ass and is sitting on a beach, finally starting to feel happy again.  Favorite line: "I can't stop looking into the sun, into the sea. I love how the sunrise is blinding me."&lt;br /&gt;-"Often Happens"-That sinking feeling you get when you realize something is off in your relationship, and that desperate desire to ignore it--"My heart keeps lyin', sayin' I'll be fine."&lt;br /&gt;-"Candle Mambo"-Captain Beefheart cover.  Odd, but in a good way.&lt;br /&gt;-"Cry My Eyes Out"-Just a sad song about being unhappy and not knowing how to keep going.  What I love about this song is the use of prepared piano.  Mostly because I felt very pleased with myself when I recognized it as prepared piano and knew what that meant.  Thank you, eleventh grade music history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8ziOpYcKaNE" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like most of the songs, but  I'm not as enthralled with this album as I should be because I heard most of these songs live before I heard the studio versions.  I'm always going to prefer a live version to the perfectly produced studio recording.  Also, I love the touring band, which includes a violin.  There are plenty of guitar-bass-drums bands, but the violin gives them a different sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My overall assessment of "Stranger Me": it has a lot of great tracks that are fantastic live, but the album just feels over-produced.  Amy is enunciating too much, which takes away from the Memphis charm.  &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Dickinson"&gt;Jim Dickinson&lt;/a&gt; produced "Anchors &amp;amp; Anvils" (Amy's previous album), which I love, and he understood perfectly what gives Memphis music that special power.  Being dead left him unavailable for "Stranger Me," so Amy found Craig Silvey.  I'm sure he's a great producer (Arcade Fire did win a Grammy with his help), but I don't think he gets that Memphis music needs to be a little raw.  That element of roughness evokes a visceral, emotional response and makes the music feel more sincere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a broad sample of her music, including several tracks from the new album, watch this--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" id="utv733047" name="utv_n_629511" height="296" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="loc=%2F&amp;amp;autoplay=false&amp;amp;vid=13071883&amp;amp;locale=en_US&amp;amp;hasticket=false&amp;amp;v3=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="src" value="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/viewer.swf"&gt;&lt;embed flashvars="loc=%2F&amp;amp;autoplay=false&amp;amp;vid=13071883&amp;amp;locale=en_US&amp;amp;hasticket=false&amp;amp;v3=1" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" id="utv733047" name="utv_n_629511" src="http://www.ustream.tv/flash/viewer.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="296" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-1001480148459441024?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YrLM72K2quLMrLDGFQdCIelPMlo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YrLM72K2quLMrLDGFQdCIelPMlo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/Bwypov2u6sU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/1001480148459441024/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=1001480148459441024" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/1001480148459441024?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/1001480148459441024?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/Bwypov2u6sU/back-again-and-album-review.html" title="Back again, and an album review!" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/8ziOpYcKaNE/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/07/back-again-and-album-review.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4FRn4_eSp7ImA9WhZVFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-9050392627249943080</id><published>2011-05-26T15:57:00.000-09:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T15:58:37.041-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-26T15:58:37.041-09:00</app:edited><title>STOP HAVING BABIES</title><content type="html">Seriously.  It's freaking me out.  Use condoms, people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-9050392627249943080?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uGaSfs3LOeGfG7xQ2vY6VuZQl5o/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uGaSfs3LOeGfG7xQ2vY6VuZQl5o/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/XQWf_9sU3sc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/9050392627249943080/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=9050392627249943080" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/9050392627249943080?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/9050392627249943080?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/XQWf_9sU3sc/stop-having-babies.html" title="STOP HAVING BABIES" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/05/stop-having-babies.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cBR3s6eip7ImA9WhZWGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-4496681080713034953</id><published>2011-05-19T13:33:00.002-09:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T18:10:56.512-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-19T18:10:56.512-09:00</app:edited><title>Breaking Up With Your Favorite Band</title><content type="html">As usual, this post was inspired by an NPR podcast.  I apologize for being a pretentious white person, but I can't help it.  The hosts of "All Songs Considered" were discussing the topic of breaking up with your favorite band, and it made me realize that I've grown apart from some of my favorite music.  Remember all the way back to late January, when I was mooning over Jason Mraz?  Apparently I'm kind of fickle, because after &lt;a href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/05/music-fest-day-1.html"&gt;seeing him perform live&lt;/a&gt; in Memphis some of the magic seems to be gone.  I think it's safe to say the affair is over.  Looking back he seems a little sleazy.  Now hearing his music feels awkward...kind of like running into an ex.  (That's never actually happened, but I did spot an ex's new girlfriend at a senior week event.  I stared at her like a creeper because I couldn't decide if it was her.  No way she didn't notice.  Kind of uncomfortable.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another band I'm almost over, but will stay with just because a boring relationship is better than no relationship at all:  Cake.  They didn't excite me at Music Fest and their new album, while not bad, didn't really do much for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess not all relationships are destined to last.  Anyone want to share bands they've "broken up" with?  If only so I know there are people out there reading?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-4496681080713034953?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TqbL8xqkO0We6HT9fcN0TIZIqS8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TqbL8xqkO0We6HT9fcN0TIZIqS8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/nvr-r0wVU_Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/4496681080713034953/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=4496681080713034953" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/4496681080713034953?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/4496681080713034953?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/nvr-r0wVU_Y/breaking-up-with-your-favorite-band.html" title="Breaking Up With Your Favorite Band" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/05/breaking-up-with-your-favorite-band.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04GRHs4eCp7ImA9WhZXGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-5343033426571637851</id><published>2011-05-08T15:54:00.002-09:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T18:32:05.530-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-08T18:32:05.530-09:00</app:edited><title>A new phenomenon and a life lesson from an unlikely source</title><content type="html">I made the questionable decision to see "Something Borrowed" last night (I blame peer pressure) and finally found words to describe a trait that makes some people innately unlikeable: douche face.  Colin Egglesfield, the male lead in "Something Borrowed," is afflicted with a serious case of douche face.  He just has this face that makes him look like a smarmy douchebag.  In the movie, [SPOILER ALERT] he and Ginnifer Goodwin end up together.  As soon as the credits started to roll, I turned to my friend and said, "Is it just me, or do you still hate him?"  And she agreed, so this isn't just me arbitrarily disliking someone.  While the script and acting were mediocre, I'm pretty sure the main reason I was so displeased by the ending of this movie was the guy's face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I did take one useful thing away from it.  Throughout the movie, we see instances of Goodwin's character letting Kate Hudson win (Hudson's character is engaged to a guy Goodwin fell head over heels for in law school...then introduced to Hudson), and just never going after anything she wants.  This got me thinking (never a good thing, I know).   Every time I don't get something I really want, I eventually look back and realize it's probably because I wasn't insistent enough.  Sometimes I never even made it apparent that I wanted something, so of course it never happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most painful example of this:  I always wanted an Easy Bake Oven.  As a five-to-sixteen-year-old, I would see the commercials and long to be able to make very small brownies and cookies with my own 100 watt light bulb.  Who wouldn't want that?  But for some reason it never occurred to me to mention this desire to my parents, and I was twenty before I finally got an Easy Bake Oven of my very own (seriously. My roommates got me one for Christmas junior year) and could make all the tiny, delicious treats my heart desired.  I mentioned this to my parents and apparently they would have been happy to get me one at a much earlier age had they known I was interested.  But considering my history of catching things on fire that probably would have been a terrible decision.  Lesson:  I need to go after the things I want. Or at least tell someone I want them.  So, Thing(s) I Want: get ready to be aggressively pursued. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Second lesson from this movie: never introduce the guy you're crazy about to your hot blonde best friend.  In fact, never introduce your hot blonde best friend to anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-5343033426571637851?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZkMFcGr32ZHOlZMyOmw44aE0CnY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZkMFcGr32ZHOlZMyOmw44aE0CnY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/88nnZmI-_Ds" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/5343033426571637851/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=5343033426571637851" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/5343033426571637851?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/5343033426571637851?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/88nnZmI-_Ds/new-phenomenon-and-life-lesson-from.html" title="A new phenomenon and a life lesson from an unlikely source" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/05/new-phenomenon-and-life-lesson-from.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QDSH49fyp7ImA9WhZXF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-7372846802147870532</id><published>2011-05-06T17:54:00.002-09:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T19:09:39.067-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-06T19:09:39.067-09:00</app:edited><title>Music Fest, Day 3</title><content type="html">On the last day of Music Fest, the weather got sketchy.  But &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=709230"&gt;Eddie &lt;/a&gt;and I braved the tornadoes, the rain, and the ghetto in the pursuit of great music. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first act of the evening was &lt;a href="http://www.greggallman.com/"&gt;Gregg Allman&lt;/a&gt;.  Not really my thing, but good.  Ed (apparently that's what people call him now...) could probably tell you more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of Sunday night--of the whole weekend, really--was &lt;a href="http://www.bettyelavette.com/"&gt;Bettye Lavette&lt;/a&gt;.  She performed in the Blues Tent, which is usually a pretty low-key venue.  Most people sit for the performances and don't make a lot of noise.  But as soon as Bettye got started, twenty or thirty people (including me) swarmed into the space right in front of the stage.  She has an incredibly powerful voice and a magnetism that makes her audience desperate to get closer.  Her cover of "Joy" is at least as good as Lucinda Williams' original and her delight at inspiring audiences is obvious from the way she beams every second she's on stage.  It takes a lot of something--usually alcohol--to make me want to dance in public, but 2 beers and about half a song did it for me that night.  The line from her set that stuck with me: "I've got my feet on the ground...I've got my own hell to raise."  Also, how much do I want all of &lt;a href="http://www.bettyelavette.com/merchandise.html"&gt;these t-shirts&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final act we saw at Music Fest was the last 20 minutes of Wilco's performance.  I've never been a big Wilco fan (I know, I should be shunned), but what I saw of this set was fun.  I especially liked that they ended the performance with a cover of Big Star's "In the Street" (the song Cheap Trick butchered for the intro to "That 70s Show").  They even got Jody Stephens, the drummer and last living member of Big Star, to play it with them.  I thought that was an appropriate acknowledgment of the hallowed musical ground that is Memphis and a poignant way to end my first Music Fest in four years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No idea when I'll have the time/resources to get to Memphis for another Music Fest, but I hope it won't be too long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-7372846802147870532?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D4uBSnLzEPdaNUsjJQ54rHzhCMY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D4uBSnLzEPdaNUsjJQ54rHzhCMY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/Sj7bxCnW3eE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/7372846802147870532/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=7372846802147870532" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/7372846802147870532?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/7372846802147870532?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/Sj7bxCnW3eE/music-fest-day-3.html" title="Music Fest, Day 3" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/05/music-fest-day-3.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYBR3o5cCp7ImA9WhZXFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-701371535463641029</id><published>2011-05-04T16:45:00.003-09:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T18:29:16.428-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-04T18:29:16.428-09:00</app:edited><title>Music Fest: Days 1 and 2</title><content type="html">Forgive me, reader(s?), for I have been lazy.  It's been about a month since my last post.  I'll do some Hail Marys and try to be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back to Boston last night after attending the Beale Street Music Festival.  I started writing this post during the plane ride home and realized I had a lot to say, so this is going to be a two-parter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Cake: I've seen them twice, so it's hard to get too excited about Cake anymore, but they are always worth seeing. While some find John McCrea's tendency to insult the audience offensive, I choose to believe I'm in on the joke and think he's likable and funny.  But then I've always had questionable taste in men.  My friends pointed out a guy in a bar once, saying "Look, he's Asian AND old, just your type!"  Anyway, I'd see them again, but only in a situation like Music Fest.  They're fun, but not worth the $50-60 it costs to see one of their regular shows. Also, they seem to be getting tired of touring and it's starting to show.  They finished their set with "The Distance," and you could tell they were so sick of playing that song, but felt obligated because it was a festival crowd.  While music festivals are great places to see a wide array of performances, most people are only marginally invested in seeing any particular act and aren't devoted enough fans to want to hear too many lesser known tracks.  To be fair, though, Cake has been playing that song since 1996, so I can understand if they've gotten bored with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Jason Mraz: Kind of a let down, to be honest.  I was really looking forward to his performance, but I walked away feeling underwhelmed.  I still love listening to his music, but will probably avoid going to another live show.  He lost probably a third of the audience after he only got through about three songs in the first twenty-five minutes.  While it didn't bother me, the tendency to let the band take off on three or four minute solos wasn't holding most of the&lt;br /&gt;audience's  attention.  The musicians were all very talented, but that's apparently not what appeals to sixteen year old girls.  Another downside to watching a musician with a fan base consisting primarily of teenage girls: they drag their boyfriends along and seem to think it's appropriate to dryhump each other in public.  It's not.  Just putting that out there. Maybe I'm just old and crotchety, but I found that kind of unpleasant and more than a little trashy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But back to his performance!  Despite most likely being stoned, he did manage to get through the songs everyone was there to hear--"Lucky," "I'm Yours," etc.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, Saturday was much more fun than Friday. My companion for the weekend (speaking of old and crotchety...kidding! Best crazy uncle ever) wasn't feeling quite as old as he had felt Friday night and the music was infinitely better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;a href="http://amylavere.com/"&gt;Amy Lavere&lt;/a&gt;: I've seen her live several times and she seems to get better with every show.  I've seen videos from some of her earliest tours, and I have to admit they were a little weak. But every live show I've been to has impressed me and last weekend's was no exception.  As soon as she had finished her sound check ("Mr. Spaceman"--always great), she asked the audience, "Anyone have an ass-pocket of whiskey they want to share? C'mon, this is Memphis, someone's gotta be able to help me out."  And of course, because it was Memphis (&amp;lt;3), some guy pulled out a flask-shaped bottle of Wild Turkey and tossed it up to her.  She took a swig, tossed the bottle back, and  started the show.  You're not supposed to bring alcohol into Music Fest, so maybe five minutes later security approached the guy and gave him a hard time about the liquor.  They tried to confiscate it, but he showed them an empty bottle (which he must have had in addition to the full bottle he shared with Amy, because there's no way he downed most of a bottle in under five minutes), and they left him alone.  Well played. But c'mon, security guys--to use a cliche, that was SO not rock'n'roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the set was fantastic.  Since the end of her last relationship, Amy's gotten a new band (that's why you never date your drummer--or any drummer, for that matter. One of the sagest pieces of advice Mrs. Millen ever gave me) and recorded a new album. "Stranger Me" is coming out July 19th, and I can't wait.  There's going to be an album release party at the &lt;a href="http://www.levittshell.org/"&gt;Levitt Shell&lt;/a&gt; on July 16th, and anyone who lives in Memphis should go and tell me about it.  I'm incredibly jealous.  She played several tracks from the new album and they sound great.  A lot of them center around her recent breakup, and she hasn't lost that slightly homicidal bent she displayed in her first few albums.  Of the songs she played, my favorite tracks off the new album are "Damn Love Song" and the title track, "Stranger Me."  She also played a song called "Lucky Boy," written for her by Jimbo Mathus. It's not as good as her original work, but decent.   Expect a full review of "Stranger Me" this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was impressed that she didn't feel the need to perform "Killing Him," her only song that's gotten any radio play, and a  few other staples from her earlier albums.  She had a solid set without it, and I appreciated getting to hear more of her new material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;a href="http://www.lucindawilliams.com/"&gt;Lucinda Williams&lt;/a&gt;:  From a distance, she looks a little like Bob Dylan.  I'm just sayin'.  But she's also one of the best performers I've ever seen, so we can forgive her for that.  She played several songs from her new album, "Blessed," as well as some of my favorites from her older albums.  There's no such thing as a set that pleases absolutely everyone, and she certainly left out a few songs I would have liked to hear, but she was engaging and talented enough that I wasn't disappointed.  And she really doesn't look bad for 58.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll save Day 3 for tomorrow night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-701371535463641029?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QHppmjWGH6MMZMdKeGQ--AfF7Ac/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QHppmjWGH6MMZMdKeGQ--AfF7Ac/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/9N6JrEVRiuw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/701371535463641029/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=701371535463641029" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/701371535463641029?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/701371535463641029?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/9N6JrEVRiuw/music-fest-day-1.html" title="Music Fest: Days 1 and 2" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/05/music-fest-day-1.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcFRXk_fSp7ImA9WhZRFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-8240051496563477634</id><published>2011-04-12T13:25:00.003-09:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T17:33:34.745-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-12T17:33:34.745-09:00</app:edited><title>Okay, maybe my father was right about this one thing...</title><content type="html">For the past 22 years, my dad has told me repeatedly to pay more attention to my surroundings.  I've always told him I paid plenty of attention and he didn't have anything to worry about, but I might have been wrong.  After work today, I got on the bus, spotted a miraculously empty seat (this never happens), and sat down.  It took me about 5 minutes to realize why everyone else on the bus had opted to stand rather than to take that particular seat.  The woman in the seat next to me was wearing a face mask.  Like the kind you would wear if you had a contagious disease and didn't want to spread it to everyone else on the bus.  Good job, Julie.  So, yeah.  Lesson learned.  From now on, I will try to be more aware of what's going on around me.  Also, if I die of some terrible disease I know exactly where I got it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random upsetting fact: Charlie Sheen is performing (I use that word loosely) at BU tonight. Why??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-8240051496563477634?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DWbZCvLkkj-PVzERW6QIdD-WzF4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DWbZCvLkkj-PVzERW6QIdD-WzF4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DWbZCvLkkj-PVzERW6QIdD-WzF4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DWbZCvLkkj-PVzERW6QIdD-WzF4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/73XrQqDiQ7E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/8240051496563477634/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=8240051496563477634" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8240051496563477634?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8240051496563477634?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/73XrQqDiQ7E/okay-maybe-my-father-was-right-about.html" title="Okay, maybe my father was right about this one thing..." /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/04/okay-maybe-my-father-was-right-about.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4FSXw_fCp7ImA9WhZRFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-1518750973638893796</id><published>2011-04-11T18:36:00.002-09:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T19:01:58.244-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-11T19:01:58.244-09:00</app:edited><title>Songs That Make Me Hormonal</title><content type="html">Peterborough and the Kawarthas (Barenaked Ladies)--It's all about the guy being away from his kid, presumably while on tour.  He goes all overprotective daddy, reminding his wife (?) of little things she should be sure to do--"Wait for him at the end of the slide...when he climbs the stairs stay by his side."  Too cute.  I don't have kids (duh), but this song gives me the same crazy I-want-a-baby feelings I've been getting every time I see a cute baby.  Note: I do NOT get this feeling when I see an ugly baby.  Not at all.  So maybe I should hold off on the baby making until I'm sure I could love a baby if it came out ugly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AsmfVv68ZTM" allowfullscreen="" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Car Wheels on A Gravel Road (Lucinda Williams)--Again, I don't have a really obvious connection with this song, but it affects me anyway.  I didn't grow up in the country.   I don't live near any gravel roads.  I do have a gravel driveway, though.  I think that might be why this song makes me feel nostalgic--I remember the sound of car wheels on the gravel driveway meaning it was time to push the dog off the sofa, turn off the TV, and pretend to do homework. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ainIBDO6a8E" allowfullscreen="" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a Long Way From Home (Shooter Jennings)--This one is a cover.  Shooter Jennings recorded his father's song for the movie "Walk the Line."  In addition to the song itself, the father-son connection is sweet and makes me all hormonal (in a nice way).  I listen to this song when I'm feeling homesick.  Obvious and sappy, I know.  Stop judging me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JEv836sRSI4" allowfullscreen="" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-1518750973638893796?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rk-eoLqzFOJGzly41hs1h7Lksrs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rk-eoLqzFOJGzly41hs1h7Lksrs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/rH6i4aYX9ZA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/1518750973638893796/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=1518750973638893796" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/1518750973638893796?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/1518750973638893796?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/rH6i4aYX9ZA/songs-that-make-me-hormonal.html" title="Songs That Make Me Hormonal" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/AsmfVv68ZTM/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/04/songs-that-make-me-hormonal.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYERH49eCp7ImA9WhZRFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-6648931856892820736</id><published>2011-04-10T16:18:00.003-09:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T18:21:45.060-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-10T18:21:45.060-09:00</app:edited><title>Best Sunday Ever</title><content type="html">I went to the emergency room for the first time!  Very exciting day.  Before you get all worried, I wasn't the one in need of emergency care.  And if it's not about me, obviously it's not a big deal.  My friend Rachel* had an earache, seriously swollen tonsils, and general misery.  As none of us have bothered to find doctors in Boston and the clinic was completely unhelpful, the ER was our best option. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a billboard outside the hospital in my neighborhood that shows the wait time in the ER.  When we walked in around noon, the billboard said we had a 39 minute wait.  Two hours later, someone finally took Rachel back to an exam room.  About an hour after that, Rachel came back to the waiting room and asked us (Mallory tagged along for the ER adventure--apparently she has no life) to come back to the exam room and keep her company while they pumped antibiotics and fluids into her via IV.  So we spent the next two-ish hours waiting for test results and watching IVs drip really, really slowly.  To pass the time, we read, made inappropriate jokes, checked out the hot doctors**, took pictures and posted them to Facebook (this experience had to be documented!), and tried to make the nurses laugh when they came in to change the IV bag thingies.  We were especially successful at that last one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, one of the hot doctors came in to let Rachel know what was wrong.  Ear infection?  Tonsillitis?  Plague?  Nope.  Mono.  And possibly strep (still waiting on the results of the strep test).  Obviously we spent the next hour waiting for the IV stuff to finish and mercilessly teasing Rachel.  Question for the general public--is mono like an STD in that you're supposed to notify any recent partners?  We were debating this while we tried to determine where she picked up the disease (and remember if we shared food/drinks in the last few weeks).  We also made the Sylvester Stallone look-alike (male) nurse laugh as we berated Rachel for the poor life choices that led to this adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all, not a bad Sunday.  Or at least not for me, since I'm not the one with mono.  Lessons of the day: Don't go the ER because you will spend six hours there, even if the billboard says there's only a 40 minute wait.  But if you have to go to an ER, go to St. Elizabeth's because they have hot doctors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*For the record, I have full permission to write about this and to use real names.  Friends with a high embarrassment threshold make life infinitely more fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**St. Elizabeth's has some seriously attractive ER doctors.  My initial  reaction to this was to suggest that we take turns getting just a  little bit injured, but Mallory had a better idea.  Apparently there's a  bar near her office where a lot of doctors from a nearby hospital hang  out. Can you say husband trolling??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-6648931856892820736?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ArLUPuI2gSQG2hrLaZBJg_gdZys/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ArLUPuI2gSQG2hrLaZBJg_gdZys/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/khImQE_p8Bw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/6648931856892820736/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=6648931856892820736" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/6648931856892820736?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/6648931856892820736?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/khImQE_p8Bw/best-sunday-ever.html" title="Best Sunday Ever" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/04/best-sunday-ever.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUASHc_fSp7ImA9WhZRFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-8122686835936292341</id><published>2011-03-30T13:02:00.004-09:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T06:30:49.945-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-12T06:30:49.945-09:00</app:edited><title>What's Making Me Happy Today</title><content type="html">To keep my brain from atrophying, I listen to podcasts at work. One of my favorites is NPR's Pop Culture Happy Hour. Every week on this podcast, they do a short segment called "What's Making Me Happy This Week," the content of which is pretty self-explanatory. I've decided to start doing the same thing here. I also might add a "What's Pissing Me Off Today" series. We'll see how crabby and misanthropic I'm feeling. What's making me happy this week: other people's awkward social encounters. I'm an awkward person, so it's always reassuring to see that I'm not alone. I was on the bus coming home from work this afternoon and overheard a conversation between two teenage boys. From what I could deduce, they went to middle school together and are now in different high schools. They ran into each other on the bus and felt obligated to make conversation, but had absolutely nothing to talk about. It was hilarious. Boy 1: Um. How are you? Boy 2: Good. You? Boy 1: Good. [long awkward silence] Boy 1: So, um, you still talk to anyone from [name of middle school]? Boy 2: Not really, no. Boy 1: Yeah, me either. Boy 2: What school do you go to now? Boy 1: [name of school]. You? Boy 2: [name of another school] [loooooong silence] And they continued to watch each other awkwardly for another 10 minutes, neither of them feeling comfortable enough to put on their headphones and disengage from the non-conversation. I was amused. I wanted to reassure them that it gets easier. Eventually you learn that it's completely acceptable to smile, say hi, and keep walking. You don't have to talk to everyone you see. In fact, you probably shouldn't. But these boys were in their awkward early teenage years, so they can be forgiven for not understanding that. Some people make it to, say, 60 and still feel the need to chat with everyone they run into. I figured out the not-making-eye -contact-so-you-can-pretend-you-didn't-see-them trick years ago. To be fair, though, some people actually seem to like talking to strangers. I kind of envy them--I'd love to be good at making conversation with people I don't know or am vaguely acquainted with. But when I try, it usually ends up being weird, so I've learned to just be quiet. To paraphrase (because I'm too lazy to google the exact quote), it's better to be silent and let people assume you're an idiot than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-8122686835936292341?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LNkUcJZKurLj7ma4CySem1tZTfU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LNkUcJZKurLj7ma4CySem1tZTfU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/hK09OxNn7n8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/8122686835936292341/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=8122686835936292341" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8122686835936292341?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8122686835936292341?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/hK09OxNn7n8/whats-making-me-happy-today.html" title="What's Making Me Happy Today" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/03/whats-making-me-happy-today.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIGSH87fCp7ImA9WhZTFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-395778172494215256</id><published>2011-03-17T16:46:00.003-09:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T18:55:29.104-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-17T18:55:29.104-09:00</app:edited><title>More man stuff</title><content type="html">Another no-no (according to friends I polled): showing up unannounced.  The only exception to this is if there's a grand romantic gesture involved.  Quick definition of a grand romantic gesture: something that significantly alters the state of your relationship.  Some examples: proposing, moving in together (eliminates the issue of whether or not to call before coming over!), etc.  A breakup doesn't count--definitely don't show up unannounced to do that.  Not nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure I 100% agree with this, though.  I actually like the idea of a guy showing up spontaneously.  But I can agree that it's probably not a great idea in the early stages of a relationship, when I'm still worried about what I look like when you see me.  After that fades, though, a guy showing up unexpectedly could be nice.  I think the reason this has never happened to me is that I've dated people with busy schedules/lives, who didn't have time to come over out of the blue.  So if the reason you can show up unannounced is that you have no school/job/life to keep you occupied, that might be a deal breaker.  But if you're just so crazy about me that you feel the need to see me immediately, that's kind of attractive.  I like surprises!  As long as it's not after my bedtime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-395778172494215256?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uDY6v-EYQUDKIG0hTTH9I1OYQ-A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uDY6v-EYQUDKIG0hTTH9I1OYQ-A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/KPu0LJzyz0g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/395778172494215256/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=395778172494215256" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/395778172494215256?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/395778172494215256?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/KPu0LJzyz0g/more-man-stuff.html" title="More man stuff" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/03/more-man-stuff.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcGSX4-cCp7ImA9WhZTE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-8175915878185994995</id><published>2011-03-16T18:23:00.003-09:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T18:37:08.058-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-16T18:37:08.058-09:00</app:edited><title>Don't Do This</title><content type="html">I walked into the bathroom at work today and heard a woman talking in one of the stalls.  I assumed she was talking to someone in another stall (weird, in my opinion, but people do it disturbingly often), but there was no one else in the bathroom.  Turns out she was on the phone.  While using the toilet.  So gross.  Then she came out of her stall as I was washing my hands (still on the phone) and looked at me as if what she was doing were perfectly normal. IT'S NOT.  I don't care who you're talking to--the conversation can wait two minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick reader poll--do a lot of people actually do this?? If you agree with me that it's a disgusting habit, tell me that.  If you're a foul person who talks on the phone in the bathroom, defend yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-8175915878185994995?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MUufXYQb25D7wm9enAOAq9vX4Lk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MUufXYQb25D7wm9enAOAq9vX4Lk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MUufXYQb25D7wm9enAOAq9vX4Lk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MUufXYQb25D7wm9enAOAq9vX4Lk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/JugEvnp42Mc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/8175915878185994995/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=8175915878185994995" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8175915878185994995?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8175915878185994995?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/JugEvnp42Mc/dont-do-this.html" title="Don't Do This" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/03/dont-do-this.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ENRnw9fCp7ImA9WhZTEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-4182193150252931933</id><published>2011-03-15T14:03:00.003-09:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T14:28:17.264-09:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-15T14:28:17.264-09:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hipsters" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="punks" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hippies" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="good charlotte" /><title>Sorry!</title><content type="html">I kind of suck at sticking with projects.  I'm trying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, some thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I left work one afternoon last week, I walked past the Paradise (a music venue just off campus) and was entertained to see about twenty people between the ages of 15 and 22 camped out in front of the club.  I initially thought they had to be waiting for something pretty great (it was cold!)...then I took a closer look at them.  They were those annoying punk kids who have silly piercings and look like they've never shopped anywhere but Hot Topic.  So of course they were waiting outside in the cold for GOOD CHARLOTTE.  Seriously.  I will admit that I was briefly into this band during my angsty, I'm-such-a-badass phase...but then I hit puberty and got over it.  What is wrong with these people???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know who else needs to get a life (besides me)?  People in their 20s who call themselves hippies.  You might be liberal.  You might be environmentally conscious.  Maybe you smoke a lot of pot.  Or sleep around.  Maybe you do all of those things.  And yet, YOU WERE BORN 30 YEARS TOO LATE.  GET OVER IT.  You're not a hippie, you're just annoying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a related note-- &lt;a href="http://www.latfh.com/"&gt;hipsters &lt;/a&gt;annoy me, too.  Just putting that out there.  There's no real reason for this one, I just find them irritating.  And enjoy making fun of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-4182193150252931933?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pQIq-Oa4xPZwJBHLd5Ene1hCJI0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pQIq-Oa4xPZwJBHLd5Ene1hCJI0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/O2uxj3GXdwI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/4182193150252931933/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=4182193150252931933" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/4182193150252931933?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/4182193150252931933?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/O2uxj3GXdwI/sorry.html" title="Sorry!" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/03/sorry.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMCQ3w4cSp7ImA9Wx9aEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-8414030913357976778</id><published>2011-03-03T17:07:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T19:27:42.239-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-03T19:27:42.239-10:00</app:edited><title>Music Fest!</title><content type="html">The lineup for the Memphis in May Beale Street Music Festival came out today!  The festival's Facebook page had suggested most of the lineup already, but this made it official.  You know what else is official? I'm going to Music Fest for the first time since high school!  I finally have the means and the time to take a few days off to  go home and get covered in mud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.thebealestreetmusicfestival.com/bealestreetmusicfestivallineup.htm"&gt;lineup &lt;/a&gt;is huge, but here are the acts I'm looking forward to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason Mraz (you know how I feel about him...)&lt;br /&gt;Flaming Lips (I don't actually know much about their music, but apparently they put on a fun show)&lt;br /&gt;MGMT (another one I don't know much about, but I keep hearing good things)&lt;br /&gt;Cake (a long-time favorite, and always fun in concert)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cee Lo Green (if he doesn't conflict with something I'm more interested in)&lt;br /&gt;Lucinda Williams (must-see. SO GREAT.)&lt;br /&gt;Jerry Lee Lewis (he's going to die one of these days--I should see him before that happens)&lt;br /&gt;John Mellencamp (Not a priority, but could be fun)&lt;br /&gt;New Pornographers with Neko Case (yet another one I don't really know much about, but I keep hearing they're amazing)&lt;br /&gt;Mumford and Sons (so many people have told me I would like them)&lt;br /&gt;Amy Lavere (Another must-see for me, although I feel like it won't be as good as the times I've seen her in small venues)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bettye Lavette&lt;br /&gt;Wilco&lt;br /&gt;Lucero (maybe--their typical audience is kind of a turn off--I'm not really into the large crowds of guys yelling and splashing beer all over the place)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is easily the best lineup in years, and I'm incredibly excited to be able to come home for it.  For those of you who are not from Memphis, Memphis in May is an annual celebration focusing on a different country each year (this year is Belgium).  In addition to Music Fest, they put together educational programs, a BBQ contest, and so much more.  &lt;a href="http://www.memphisinmay.org/Home"&gt;Read about them&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random: Ke$ha will also be performing.  I have no idea why.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-8414030913357976778?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3hEe6RCvEoUEqUs-b0HibaPiUwQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3hEe6RCvEoUEqUs-b0HibaPiUwQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/lZPJF8TsLsI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/8414030913357976778/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=8414030913357976778" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8414030913357976778?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8414030913357976778?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/lZPJF8TsLsI/music-fest.html" title="Music Fest!" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/03/music-fest.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8DQ3Y4cCp7ImA9Wx9aEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-3741246271747658600</id><published>2011-03-01T16:51:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T19:14:32.838-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-01T19:14:32.838-10:00</app:edited><title>Bus Behavior</title><content type="html">Just an observation from watching people get on the bus/doing it myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, your first concern when you step onto the bus (after "Did I remember to put money on my CharlieCard?) is "where should I sit?"  It seems like you could just sit down wherever there's an empty seat, but I don't think anyone actually does that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best scenario, of course, is spotting two adjacent empty seats.  This way, you don't have to sit next to anyone.  But if it's rush hour, you should shut up and be grateful if you find an empty seat at all.  If there are a number of single seats available, it becomes a question of which complete stranger you would most like to sit next to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's probably human nature to gravitate toward people who most resemble you, and that's usually my instinct when choosing a seatmate on the bus.  If I don't see a 20-something woman to sit next to, I move on to any woman.  If none of the empty seats are next to women, I start to get a little nervous. It's not that I don't like men--I'm actually a big fan--but I feel least threatened by women, so that's who I'd rather sit next to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, if my only options are men, the look-for-someone-like-me strategy goes out the window.  My next concern is size.  I would much rather sit next to a skinny man than a fat one. I'm a fairly small person, but I resent it when a stranger's giant ass encroaches on my seat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next factor I consider: smell.  The more offensive your body odor, the more likely you are to get to keep that empty seat next to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most days I can find a seat next to a reasonably-sized man or woman without a noticeable smell.  But some days luck just isn't with me.  Worst case scenario: I end up squeezed into a seat between a pole and a large man who smells like he might have forgotten to shower this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, you might ask at this point, would I not just stand?  I'm young.  My commute isn't that long.  That would be the rational thing to do, given the lack of desirable seating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have an unfortunate habit of staring noticeably at people while looking for a seat, and sometimes they see me looking.  The thing is, once you've stared at the empty seat next to someone for a certain amount of time, it seems rude not to sit.  If I'm eying an empty seat like it's a Diet Coke, then don't sit down, it's pretty obvious my decision was a result of not liking something about my potential seatmate.   And then I feel bad. They've clearly noticed my staring.  I can't not sit now!  I would hate to offend this complete stranger by implying that there's something repulsive about him (even if there is).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the days when the giant hill (read: MOUNTAIN) between the bus stop and my house looks incredibly inviting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-3741246271747658600?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qhSrlIlBi_ouq8AgOnck8IJEUpM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qhSrlIlBi_ouq8AgOnck8IJEUpM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qhSrlIlBi_ouq8AgOnck8IJEUpM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qhSrlIlBi_ouq8AgOnck8IJEUpM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/lx753aKduMs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/3741246271747658600/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=3741246271747658600" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/3741246271747658600?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/3741246271747658600?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/lx753aKduMs/bus-behavior.html" title="Bus Behavior" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/03/bus-behavior.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUFRHY9fip7ImA9Wx9bGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-4918738262533290741</id><published>2011-02-27T09:21:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T09:50:15.866-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-27T09:50:15.866-10:00</app:edited><title>How I know I'm white</title><content type="html">1. Seeing police cars makes me feel safe.&lt;br /&gt;2. On the T today, a friend and I discussed our love for NPR podcasts.&lt;br /&gt;3. A Borders near me is closing, and I was excited to find The Atlantic discounted...and disappointed not to find The New Yorker.&lt;br /&gt;[Numbers 2 and 3 also make me not just white, but pretentious, as well.  If I ever claim to enjoy good scotch, would someone please slap the pretentious shit out of me?]&lt;br /&gt;4. I love Trader Joe's.  Its absence in Memphis is one of the biggest reasons I would be reluctant to move home. &lt;br /&gt;5. I like picking fruit.  If I were any other color, I would see this activity as degrading, but as I'm white, it's quaint and fun.&lt;br /&gt;6. I like Mad Men, Arrested Development, 30 Rock, etc.  Can I help it if I like moderately successful TV shows with niche audiences?  (Not sure if 30 Rock really fits in that category, but I'm putting it there anyway.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I have for now.  Feel free to chime in with other things I've done that prove just how incredibly white I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-4918738262533290741?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HEjhQyXGWRf5bq_9uWfpjx7feOU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HEjhQyXGWRf5bq_9uWfpjx7feOU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HEjhQyXGWRf5bq_9uWfpjx7feOU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HEjhQyXGWRf5bq_9uWfpjx7feOU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/fHDjCLvYZls" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/4918738262533290741/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=4918738262533290741" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/4918738262533290741?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/4918738262533290741?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/fHDjCLvYZls/how-i-know-im-white.html" title="How I know I'm white" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-i-know-im-white.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4MSXo5cCp7ImA9Wx9bFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-3076702597204204615</id><published>2011-02-22T17:02:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T17:16:28.428-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-22T17:16:28.428-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="commuting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bus" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mbta" /><title>If you commute on the 57 bus...</title><content type="html">DON'T:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...touch my hair--it was just once, but I felt someone very deliberately stroke my hair.  And it creeped me out SO MUCH.  The bus was packed, so I couldn't move at all.  Luckily, I think the person got out at the next stop.  So uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...sit next to me when there are plenty of empty seats all over the bus--so annoying.  And then stare creepily.  Not nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...be that asshole who sits in the outside seat so that it's awkward for anyone to sit next to you.  No one wants to have to ask someone to move so they can sit down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...sing.  I don't care what you're listening to, you can resist the impulse to sing along.  Save it for the shower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...play your music so loud everyone on the bus can hear.  Either you have terrible taste in music and no one else should be subjected to it, or it's good music, but it's only barely audible, so you're just teasing us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...talk to strangers.   I was on the bus with a friend the other day and this guy sitting across from me was arguing with his teenage daughter over the phone.  After he hung up, he turns to us and starts asking if we ever fought with our mothers, and what's wrong with teenage girls.  We explained that they're basically crazy.  Then he asked if we were ever "boy crazy."  Um, past tense?  Maybe "man crazy" now, but same idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...talk on the phone.  No one wants to hear your half of a conversation with your wife about what you were supposed to pick up at Stop n Shop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...talk incessantly to the bus driver.  I listened to a guy discuss growing up in Boston with a bus driver for at least twenty minutes.  She looked so relieved when we got to the last stop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are other obnoxious things people do, but these were the first few that came to mind.  DON'T BE THESE PEOPLE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-3076702597204204615?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7w5cD6V78o7rseVTEFAFlfQuOI8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7w5cD6V78o7rseVTEFAFlfQuOI8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7w5cD6V78o7rseVTEFAFlfQuOI8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7w5cD6V78o7rseVTEFAFlfQuOI8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/keiE2FZFt2A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/3076702597204204615/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=3076702597204204615" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/3076702597204204615?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/3076702597204204615?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/keiE2FZFt2A/if-you-commute-on-57-bus.html" title="If you commute on the 57 bus..." /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/if-you-commute-on-57-bus.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8GQ3k9eip7ImA9Wx9bFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-8077871012421607404</id><published>2011-02-21T09:43:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T13:53:42.762-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-22T13:53:42.762-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="NPR" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blessed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lucinda Williams" /><title>Life needs to stop stressing me out</title><content type="html">I found FIVE gray hairs last night.  But don't worry, they were removed immediately.  You know you have awesome friends when they'll help you rip gray hairs out of your head.  But this had better not become a regular thing, or I might end up with bald patches.  Or have to start coloring my hair at age 22.  Not cool.  Maybe I'll just embrace the gray.  I look young, so the premature gray might make people take me more seriously.  &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;(I know, I know, I'll be sooo grateful for looking young once I hit 30.  But that's a couple years off, so for now it's just annoying.)  The hairs I eliminated last night were all in the same area, so it could actually look kind of interesting.  How would I look with one big gray streak, like Stacey London?  Something to consider. If it gets really noticeable, I promise to post pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random music thing--Lucinda Williams' new album, "Blessed," comes out March 1.  Until then, it's available to stream on &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/2011/02/21/133840259/first-listen-lucinda-williams-blessed"&gt;NPR's website&lt;/a&gt;.  Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-8077871012421607404?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/buvCvAfgBpyTA8eliu_gZ8aagtA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/buvCvAfgBpyTA8eliu_gZ8aagtA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/wik8X0duxaM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/8077871012421607404/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=8077871012421607404" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8077871012421607404?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/8077871012421607404?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/wik8X0duxaM/life-needs-to-stop-stressing-me-out.html" title="Life needs to stop stressing me out" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/life-needs-to-stop-stressing-me-out.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUDQ3o9eyp7ImA9Wx9bEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-5162075266308995524</id><published>2011-02-19T17:53:00.004-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T20:44:32.463-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-19T20:44:32.463-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="accenture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ford motors" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="google" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boston university" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vendor payment terms" /><title>Google-not evil!</title><content type="html">On the same subject as yesterday's post, I was wondering about businesses that espouse ethical behavior in business dealings.  Have they all switched to net 60 payment terms, just because they can?  I looked up a &lt;a href="http://ethisphere.com/wme2010/"&gt;list of companies recognized as having ethical business practices&lt;/a&gt; and looked up some of their vendor payment terms.  I was relieved to find that Google is true to its motto of "Don't be evil," and &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/corporate/suppliers/po-terms.html"&gt;has a net 30 policy&lt;/a&gt;.  Ford Motors has &lt;a href="http://www.docstoc.com/docs/31461636/Ford-Motor-Company-Procurement"&gt;similarly commendable practices&lt;/a&gt;, making payments on receipt of goods/services.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't go through the complete list of companies, but among the ones I looked into (and whose vendor payment information I could find easily), I did find one that uses net 60 payment terms--Accenture. &lt;a href="http://www.accenture.com/SiteCollectionDocuments/PDF/Accenture_LLP.pdf"&gt; Not cool.  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that bothers me:  the idea of getting a discount for paying vendors earlier than absolutely required.  If I pay my credit card bill within 10 days of receiving it, do I get a 2% discount?  Not so much.  So why should businesses be able to take discounts on vendor invoices just because they pay their bill in a reasonable amount of time?  Since when did paying your debts in a timely manner entitle you to a discount?  Shouldn't you just be doing that because it's the ethical way to conduct business?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have no actual expertise on this subject.  I'm just interpreting what I've heard/read recently about vendor payment practices and recognizing how it applies to what I've seen at work...and it bothers me.  I could just be young and idealistic.  I'm sure there are facets of this issue of which I'm completely unaware.  But it seems wrong to me.  Thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-5162075266308995524?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RsFfFcweiIrxqH4LbU0lJ__-cL0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RsFfFcweiIrxqH4LbU0lJ__-cL0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/QJA1nyGKLqg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/5162075266308995524/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=5162075266308995524" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/5162075266308995524?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/5162075266308995524?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/QJA1nyGKLqg/google-not-evil.html" title="Google-not evil!" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/google-not-evil.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AER3o7fyp7ImA9Wx9bFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-5296021229482356682</id><published>2011-02-18T16:22:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T16:55:06.407-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-22T16:55:06.407-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stephen Colbert" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Jeffrey Leonard" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boston university" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Colbert Report" /><title>It doesn't take much to put a spring in my step</title><content type="html">A guy with a grill (the kind that goes on your teeth, not the one used for cooking delicious things) called me gorgeous.  It made me smile.  Fact: my smile was not as sparkly as his and I was a little jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely different note, something I saw/read today is pissing me off (Shocking!).  I was watching Thursday's episode of The Colbert Report, and came to Colbert's &lt;a href="http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/374633/february-17-2011/jeffrey-leonard"&gt;interview with Jeffrey Leonard&lt;/a&gt;.  The gist: big businesses are paying small businesses later than they used to, just because they can.  Then I looked up &lt;a href="http://www.bu.edu/sourcing/suppliercenter/payment-terms/"&gt;BU's vendor payment terms&lt;/a&gt; and discovered that they've recently changed from Net 30 (making payments 30 days after the invoice date) to Net 60 (making payments 60 days after the invoice date).  The purpose of this kind of policy is to allow big businesses (like BU) to hold onto their money a little longer and earn additional interest.  That sounds okay, right?  But what that also does is force small businesses to wait an extra month to get paid, even though they still have to pay all of their operating expenses in a timely manner.  Not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without government regulation, it seems unlikely that big businesses will ever see a reason to change this practice.  The world kind of sucks that way.  In the same way that people who have a lot should feel morally obligated to help people in need, wouldn't it be nice if big businesses felt obligated to play fair when dealing with the small businesses that create the majority of new jobs in our economy?  But I don't see that happening.  Call me a big-government-loving liberal, but I think someone needs to step in and do something to prevent big businesses from taking advantage of small businesses that have no leverage.  I'll admit I don't know enough about the situation to be able to propose specific regulations, but that's what we have a government for, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to say more about BU's adopting Net 60 payment terms, but as I work for them I'll keep my mouth shut--except to say that I think it's a crappy and ethically questionable way to do business.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-5296021229482356682?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UzgfvbkDEzHUmBrcMtYKukSQObk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UzgfvbkDEzHUmBrcMtYKukSQObk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UzgfvbkDEzHUmBrcMtYKukSQObk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UzgfvbkDEzHUmBrcMtYKukSQObk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/8Sq0pK4BvZo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/5296021229482356682/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=5296021229482356682" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/5296021229482356682?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/5296021229482356682?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/8Sq0pK4BvZo/it-doesnt-take-much-to-put-spring-in-my.html" title="It doesn't take much to put a spring in my step" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/it-doesnt-take-much-to-put-spring-in-my.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YHRXszeyp7ImA9Wx9bEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-7456587311940805385</id><published>2011-02-17T18:47:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T18:58:54.583-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-17T18:58:54.583-10:00</app:edited><title>Another important manly quality</title><content type="html">I polled some friends about qualities/behaviors they liked in men, and there was one thing that everyone agreed was important: when we're out, be polite to waiters.  This shows up in almost every magazine article about dating, but it really is true.  The articles usually say it's important because the way a guy treats servers predicts the way he'll treat me. I guess that's true, but I have a different reason for thinking this is important: if you're rude, I'm going to be embarrassed to be associated with you.  So don't be a jerk.  Nice guys are, well, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-7456587311940805385?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H3meFkiYIX24O0WzsoQhDN98T74/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H3meFkiYIX24O0WzsoQhDN98T74/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H3meFkiYIX24O0WzsoQhDN98T74/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H3meFkiYIX24O0WzsoQhDN98T74/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/K_JMsBBddtY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/7456587311940805385/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=7456587311940805385" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/7456587311940805385?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/7456587311940805385?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/K_JMsBBddtY/another-important-manly-quality.html" title="Another important manly quality" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/another-important-manly-quality.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04FQn87eyp7ImA9Wx9bFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-4180068505046048491</id><published>2011-02-16T17:02:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T16:58:33.103-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-22T16:58:33.103-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Big Star" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="That 70s Show" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nirvana" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Weeds" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Warren Zevon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Californication" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hank Moody" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Cleaner" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lynyrd Skynyrd" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Carole King" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gilmore Girls" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dan Reeder" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sharon Little" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="In The Street" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Be Good Tanyas" /><title>Songs from TV shows!</title><content type="html">I don't have 10 to list (although I'm sure if I gave it enough thought I could come up with hundreds), so I'm just going to give you a few.  In no particular order--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Follow That Sound" by Sharon Little from "The Cleaner."  The show is about a recovering addict who works to get other addicts into treatment.  It's just okay, but the opening song is fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/A1HL64Wa7rY" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Work Song" by Dan Reeder from "Weeds."  One of my favorite shows...for the first three seasons.  Not as great the last few years, but always has good music.  This one's just funny.  The only line: "I've got all the fuckin' work I need."  A nice, chill song for waking up in the morning/unwinding during my commute home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UOeRanSf3cg" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Keep Me In Your Heart" by Warren Zevon from "Californication."  Like "Weeds," this show was better the first few seasons, then declined--but the last episode was pretty good, so I have hope for the rest of the season.  This song comes from an episode in which antagonistic protagonist Hank Moody has finally finished writing his latest book and indulges in his post-writing ritual:  whiskey, weed, and Warren Zevon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RMTKb-pgxGI" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Littlest Birds" by The Be Good Tanyas from "Weeds."  I mentioned this one in a &lt;a href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/top-10-love-songs.html"&gt;previous post&lt;/a&gt;, but it fits in this category, too.  I first heard it on "Weeds" a few years ago and haven't been able to get it out of my head since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VdIhpkEkC4c" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next few songs are ones I was already familiar with, but was reminded of by hearing them incorporated into shows I watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Heart Shaped Box" by Nirvana from "Californication."  Better than "Smells Like Teen Spirit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/n6P0SitRwy8" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Freebird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd from "Californication."  Depressing in the context of the show (Hank seems to have screwed things up beyond repair with Karen...except that never really happens), but a great song. Even if it is excessively long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/np0solnL1XY" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where You Lead" by Carole King from "Gilmore Girls."  Loved this show, love the song (actually the whole album--Tapestry).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hoNEJyuWhUI" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the Street" by Big Star from "That 70s Show."  I realize that Cheap Trick actually recorded the song for "That 70s Show," but their version was an abomination, so I decided you should all listen to the real version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qx6XeBhZETg" width="480" frameborder="0" height="390"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-4180068505046048491?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_qTxGp8iHzKPkfzduhGVagupWHc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_qTxGp8iHzKPkfzduhGVagupWHc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_qTxGp8iHzKPkfzduhGVagupWHc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_qTxGp8iHzKPkfzduhGVagupWHc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/35EQDX9XK-Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/4180068505046048491/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=4180068505046048491" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/4180068505046048491?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/4180068505046048491?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/35EQDX9XK-Q/songs-from-tv-shows.html" title="Songs from TV shows!" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/A1HL64Wa7rY/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/songs-from-tv-shows.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQNSHo8fCp7ImA9Wx9UGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-1961136494435361993</id><published>2011-02-15T16:42:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T18:26:39.474-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-15T18:26:39.474-10:00</app:edited><title>Oops!</title><content type="html">I was just re-reading my last post and realizing how bitter I sound.  That's why I should refrain from posting around Valentine's Day--apparently it makes me crabby!*  But I meant every word of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, further explanation for why it's okay for me to post personal stuff here but it's not okay for you to post mushy crap on Facebook:  take a look at the title of this blog.  My Thoughts: More Important Than Yours.  Basically, that means I can do whatever I want and then judge you for doing the same things I do.  I think there's something in the Yom Kippur liturgy about condemning in others faults we tolerate in ourselves.  Hmm...Oh, well.  At least I'll have something to atone for this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check back tomorrow for music stuff!  I'll be talking about some of my favorite songs that were featured on TV shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*As a sidenote--if you're having an angsty day, listening to Norah Jones and Alanis Morisette will NOT help.  Just putting that out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-1961136494435361993?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ajokBMvGLI3RyNoaUo_EKr7AmeY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ajokBMvGLI3RyNoaUo_EKr7AmeY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ajokBMvGLI3RyNoaUo_EKr7AmeY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ajokBMvGLI3RyNoaUo_EKr7AmeY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/8TRbB6pYS98" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/1961136494435361993/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=1961136494435361993" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/1961136494435361993?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/1961136494435361993?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/8TRbB6pYS98/oops.html" title="Oops!" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/oops.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04HSH45cSp7ImA9Wx9bFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17628816.post-2968826149414592588</id><published>2011-02-13T10:20:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T16:58:59.029-10:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-22T16:58:59.029-10:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Facebook" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="PDA" /><title>Please don't slobber all over my Facebook page</title><content type="html">Nothing grosses me out more than seeing couples write mushy crap all over each other's Facebook walls. I've had plenty of "You're pretty" "No, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you're &lt;/span&gt;pretty" "I love you " "I love you more" conversations, but those are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;private.  &lt;/span&gt;500 of your closest friends don't want to know that you're the luckiest girl/guy in the world and are in love with the most wonderful person you've ever met.  About half your friends probably think your boyfriend/girlfriend is an asshole, and the other half really don't care.  In fact, do everyone a favor and don't put the relationship on Facebook at all.  That way, if things don't work out, you can avoid getting dozens of messages from your gossip-hungry friends saying, "OMG, what happened?  Are you okay?"  When I get dumped, the last thing I want to do is recount the painful details for every nosy acquaintance I've ever made.  And while we're on the subject, if one of your friends suddenly becomes "single" on Facebook, don't write on his or her wall and ask what happened.  Ideally, don't even message them.  If they think it's any of your business, they'll get in touch with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationships are referred to as your "personal life" for a reason--they're personal, and don't need to be shared with everyone you've ever met.  So please don't subject me/everyone else on the internet to constant updates on the state of your relationship.  We don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[At this point you're probably thinking, "Isn't that what Julie's been doing on this blog?"  Not quite.  I share select stories for the purpose of entertaining/informing my audience.  I am also careful to protect the privacy of the people involved in my anecdotes, hence the decision not to use names.]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17628816-2968826149414592588?l=moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4_3vGt5NNSSQlIyo0bX_1pPsJCQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4_3vGt5NNSSQlIyo0bX_1pPsJCQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~4/HqIGEBZn2p4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/feeds/2968826149414592588/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17628816&amp;postID=2968826149414592588" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/2968826149414592588?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17628816/posts/default/2968826149414592588?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MyThoughtsMoreImportantThanYours/~3/HqIGEBZn2p4/please-dont-slobber-all-over-my.html" title="Please don't slobber all over my Facebook page" /><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13220883612317001126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="18" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaGu60e6InA/TT4MR3QUZkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lHHci9xgyVc/s220/15552_1193336922743_1508010154_30683748_3134967_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://moreimportantthanyours.blogspot.com/2011/02/please-dont-slobber-all-over-my.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

