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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;DE4FSHg_cSp7ImA9WhRRFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:35:19.649-06:00</updated><category term="Flights" /><category term="Cancer" /><category term="Dodgeball" /><category term="Allergy" /><category term="Japonais" /><category term="orange hand" /><category term="CrazyHeart" /><category term="Model" /><category term="Neighbor" /><category term="Run Club" /><category term="litter bug" /><category term="dangerous" /><category term="Kiki" /><category term="travel" /><category term="Lucy" /><category term="Teal" /><category term="Kris" /><category term="Katz" /><category term="METRA" /><category term="costa rica" /><category term="WTF" /><category term="Blind Date" /><category term="Jesus" /><category term="Bryan" /><category term="seat belt" /><category term="Lance" /><category term="FF" /><category term="Brown line" /><category term="spray tan" /><category term="Blind" /><category term="stomach ache" /><category term="Rob" /><category term="Starbucks" /><category term="Little People" /><category term="Wedding Crashers" /><category term="A1" /><category term="Problems" /><category term="Birthday" /><category term="MM" /><category term="Italians" /><category term="Sonja" /><category term="Prayer" /><category term="blond jerry" /><category term="Blind Dating" /><category term="Wine Tasting" /><category term="sketchy" /><category term="iPhone" /><category term="Hearing Aid" /><category term="Bus" /><category term="Mexican Traditions" /><category term="Junk Punch" /><category term="Mal Pais" /><category term="sick" /><category term="Awkward" /><category term="Free" /><category term="Jess" /><category term="Father's Day" /><category term="Mom" /><category term="fiesty" /><category term="NYE" /><category term="embarrassed" /><category term="Daddy Gary" /><category term="Amore" /><category term="Perfect Guy" /><category term="Party" /><category term="Email" /><category term="Drunk Girl" /><category term="adventures" /><category term="Second Date" /><category term="Surf" /><category term="Whole Foods" /><category term="Gun Trick" /><category term="Clown" /><category term="police" /><category term="Moving" /><category term="Canopy Tour" /><category term="Booty Call" /><category term="bulls" /><category term="Chipotle" /><category term="Bad Dates" /><category term="Sol" /><category term="chipper" /><category term="Piece" /><category term="Weirdos" /><category term="scamp" /><category term="NYC Trip" /><category term="no mayo" /><category term="Joke" /><category term="Santana" /><category term="El" /><category term="Ned" /><category term="2010" /><category term="Cheaters" /><category term="Dreamy Derek" /><category term="YouTube" /><category term="Short" /><category term="Robbed" /><category term="Advice" /><category term="Vivian" /><category term="Texas" /><category term="Dating Website" /><category term="Random Night out" /><category term="whoops" /><category term="Beyotch" /><category term="Exboyfriend" /><category term="Dresses" /><category term="Emotional E" /><category term="Sports" /><category term="Tricks" /><category term="Surprise" /><title>The Era of Clara</title><subtitle type="html">The Era of Clara</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</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/TheEraOfClara" /><feedburner:info uri="theeraofclara" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcBQnc8fCp7ImA9WhdSFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-4790206981036382854</id><published>2011-07-25T15:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T15:00:53.974-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-25T15:00:53.974-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Whole Foods" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blind Date" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blind" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Wine Tasting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Blind Dating" /><title>What's it like to go on a real blind date?</title><content type="html">As I walked into Whole Foods to go grocery shop I saw the sign "Wine Class:&amp;nbsp;California Reds" and I remembered my gift card my friend Sara had gotten me.&amp;nbsp; I decided to&amp;nbsp;delay grocery shopping and jump into the class.&amp;nbsp; It turned out to be a small group of 5 at a huge table for 10+.&amp;nbsp; On my right sat two handsome gentleman and across from us was a disgruntled married couple who couldn't seem to agree on anything except coming to the class.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm a bit of a nerd and during these tastings (or any classroom setting) I tend to ask questions.&amp;nbsp; So much so that we had moved onto the 4th wine and our teacher said "Does anyone have a question on this one?" and the sassy guy to the right of me with mismatched colored clothes said "I bet she has a question!"&amp;nbsp; I kept my head facing forward, slowly moved my eyeballs to the right and&amp;nbsp;tightened my lips. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;What a jerk.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;Then I followed it up with an intense eye roll that gave me a headache 5min later.&amp;nbsp; The guy's friend who was sandwiched to the right of mismatch guy whispered "Way to go man...She hates you for sure."&amp;nbsp; Guy to my right let out a smirky one note laugh and kept on sipping his wine.&amp;nbsp; Towards the end of class I was tipsy, sassy, and felt the need to say something about his comment that had been festering inside.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I turned to him and said in a playful way&amp;nbsp;"So are you a comedian?&amp;nbsp; Just hate questions?&amp;nbsp; Or what?"&amp;nbsp; His response, "Wow that has been bothering you this entire time?"&amp;nbsp; I couldn't deny it. &amp;nbsp;I was irritated through the last two bottles of wine we tasted. &amp;nbsp;I could feel the spotlight on me and I was about to get red.&amp;nbsp; Before I could comment the couple across from me chimed in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wife: &amp;nbsp;Well. &amp;nbsp;It was kind of rude and pointed&lt;br /&gt;
Husband:&amp;nbsp; It was not...Babe! &amp;nbsp;Do not get involved.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Wife:&amp;nbsp; It was rude!&amp;nbsp; If you said that to me I would have left&lt;br /&gt;
Husband: &amp;nbsp;Well I'm going to be the one leaving. &amp;nbsp;You're meddling and you're being loud. &amp;nbsp;You have had way too much wine.&lt;br /&gt;
Wife:&amp;nbsp; I AM NOT being loud! &amp;nbsp;You could have just not said anything.....let me make a comment....ughhhhh...it wasn't even to you....&lt;br /&gt;
Snarky Guy:&amp;nbsp; Ok Ok...it was a bit rude.&amp;nbsp; Let's just call it a day.&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; [Whispering to the lady across from me] Thanks&lt;br /&gt;
Snarky Guy:&amp;nbsp; Oh no you didn't!&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;Oh come on. &amp;nbsp;Someone had to defend me I'm the lone ranger here at this table.&lt;br /&gt;
Guy to my Right: &amp;nbsp;True True.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So is Lone Ranger what your parents call you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We ended up talking well past the length of class and flirted back and forth. &amp;nbsp;The one thing that bothered me is that he constantly looked at his wine glass. &amp;nbsp;His friend Len returned with their week of groceries and as we got up to walk out I saw him feeling up the table.&amp;nbsp; I just chalked it up to being tipsy but his friend said "So he hasn't told you his story?"&amp;nbsp; Turns out a few years ago he was in an accident and had become blind in both eyes.&amp;nbsp; I was just a chatty blurb of greyish white to him.&amp;nbsp; I stood in silence and didn't quite know how to respond.&amp;nbsp; He shook my hand and said "It was nice to meet you Lone Ranger."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He had the most amazing blueish green eyes with specks of brown.&amp;nbsp; We stood there shaking hands for a bit longer than is socially acceptable and he said "Wow you're really into me.&amp;nbsp; I can feel your smile."&amp;nbsp; I was smiling.&amp;nbsp; Just as he was about to walk&amp;nbsp;past me&amp;nbsp;I said "So are you coming back next Sunday for New Zealand Whites?"&amp;nbsp; He responded "No, but I will see you on Thursday if you're free."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To be Continued...&amp;nbsp; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-4790206981036382854?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FiTqpGW_jJYAk12QWvqkiU3eLQA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FiTqpGW_jJYAk12QWvqkiU3eLQA/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/FiTqpGW_jJYAk12QWvqkiU3eLQA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FiTqpGW_jJYAk12QWvqkiU3eLQA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/SiOWjeKmDxE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/4790206981036382854/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2011/07/whats-it-like-to-go-on-real-blind-date.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/4790206981036382854?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/4790206981036382854?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/SiOWjeKmDxE/whats-it-like-to-go-on-real-blind-date.html" title="What's it like to go on a real blind date?" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>3640 N Halsted St, Chicago, IL 60613, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.9484723 -87.6498712</georss:point><georss:box>41.9425673 -87.65995620000001 41.9543773 -87.6397862</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2011/07/whats-it-like-to-go-on-real-blind-date.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08GQn8-cCp7ImA9WhZaFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-5948266759016027917</id><published>2011-06-30T09:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T09:57:03.158-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-30T09:57:03.158-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Robbed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fiesty" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dangerous" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="iPhone" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="El" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Brown line" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sketchy" /><title>Speak Softly and Carry a big handbag...</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
I will be&amp;nbsp;catching up on blog postings from the last three months...So get ready to see some stories!&amp;nbsp; Sorry I've been M.I.A. turns out moving is really insane especially when you're traveling for 10 days at a time. I wasn't sure if I was going to post this one it happened back in early February and I didn't want to freak my family out (again) but let the freak out begin.&amp;nbsp; This story was from when I was still located in Chicago.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
So when I come home any time after dark and have to take the brown line I try to hurry because for 3 blocks it is a bit sketchy. And as everyone knows or has read, I seem to be a magnet for mayhem but mostly a theft target. Turns out Dateline's special on "How to avoid being a criminal's target" was not that useful for me. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
As I was coming back from a friends apartment on the brown line around 10:30pm I was rushing to cross sedgwick headed East to my neighborhood and a kid reached towards my ear and gripped the phone that I was speaking on. I happened to be on the phone with my friend at the time.&amp;nbsp; He wanted to make sure I got home alright since I was taking public transportation so late.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The anger that I harbored for weeks after my first iPhone was stolen&amp;nbsp;rushed with a fury through my body and specifically my arm.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I screamed and held onto my entire ear and swung my over sized Balenciaga handbag into his mouth. Luckily my large and incredibly heavy bag has large metal rivets that protrude outward and one caught him right in the lip along with my work blackberry that I carry in the front zip pocket. The kid grabbed his mouth and I ran (in the wrong direction) before he could lunge toward me. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-znbsHlDPUlw/TgyM7BPZq3I/AAAAAAAAAJA/GPxAbfrPL7Y/s1600/iphone-robbery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" i$="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-znbsHlDPUlw/TgyM7BPZq3I/AAAAAAAAAJA/GPxAbfrPL7Y/s1600/iphone-robbery.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As my adrenaline wore off my senses started to come back and I realized I was running the wrong way.&amp;nbsp; I finally heard behind me&amp;nbsp;a man impatiently shouting&amp;nbsp;"HEY! HEY!" I was so thankful ffortunately someone from the Dunkin Donuts on the corner (right next to the check cashing/pawn shop place) saw what had happened and ran out to help. Unfortunately the guy only saw me hit this kid in the mouth with my handbag and was making a run towards ME! &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;
The kid had&amp;nbsp;run off heading south and&amp;nbsp;I couldn't explain fast enough that I was the victim and NOT the culprit. Once I finally got the words out the short and stout man released me from what I'm thinking was an attempted citizen's arrest and told me I was "crazy" and that he could have had a gun. I hadn't really thought about it since the other crimes committed against me were considered "Strong arm robbery without a weapon." Either way I still have my iPhone and the score is now Clara 1 - Criminals 2.&amp;nbsp; Side note:&amp;nbsp; I did take a $3.50 cab ride home.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-5948266759016027917?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QEBPAYp4J-af3mXXHLtHxym0UN8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QEBPAYp4J-af3mXXHLtHxym0UN8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/_H2f_-oAc5w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/5948266759016027917/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2011/06/speak-softly-and-carry-big-handbag.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5948266759016027917?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5948266759016027917?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/_H2f_-oAc5w/speak-softly-and-carry-big-handbag.html" title="Speak Softly and Carry a big handbag..." /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-znbsHlDPUlw/TgyM7BPZq3I/AAAAAAAAAJA/GPxAbfrPL7Y/s72-c/iphone-robbery.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2011/06/speak-softly-and-carry-big-handbag.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQGRng6eCp7ImA9Wx9bFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-6272504388678365265</id><published>2011-02-17T08:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T07:32:07.610-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-24T07:32:07.610-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Emotional E" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Piece" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bad Dates" /><title>The Emotional Man</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Tell-Volcano-Miniature-Tigers/dp/B001O2ZVYI?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20&amp;amp;link_code=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Tell It to the Volcano" src="http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&amp;amp;ServiceVersion=20070822&amp;amp;ID=AsinImage&amp;amp;WS=1&amp;amp;Format=_SL160_&amp;amp;ASIN=B001O2ZVYI&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B003OJBWL0" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;So I went on a da&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B001O2ZVYI" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;ting&amp;nbsp;sabbatical&amp;nbsp;just long enough to be amazing at work and lose some weight. &amp;nbsp;Woohoo me! &amp;nbsp;However this got me promoted to a new position and asked out on more dates. &amp;nbsp;I decided to accept a date from someone that I met at a Birthday Party for my friend Crystal. &amp;nbsp;It was a trolley ride and I was wearing a blue wig. &amp;nbsp;Luckily he didn't mind. &amp;nbsp;The week after the party he asked me out on a dinner date to a place called Piece. &amp;nbsp;If you are ever in Chicago you should stop by...it's also a brewery and it's a change from all of the deep dish Chicago Style pizza. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyhoo our dated started out really well. &amp;nbsp;I had those butterfly jitters he turned out to be a really interesting guy. Actually I only really say that because I could see him getting along with my Dad's. &amp;nbsp;He loves to golf, talk business, loves sports, and he's just very manly. &amp;nbsp;Everything about him just exudes testosterone, sweat, and bulging muscles. &amp;nbsp;I mean everything from the way he walked confidently, then put his hand on my lower back guiding me to the table, to the way he pulled out my chair and almost set me in it because yes he's that tall and strong. &amp;nbsp;As we continued I learned that he's a bit of an&amp;nbsp;elitest&amp;nbsp;music expert; meaning he only listens to bands that 90% of the world hasn't heard and then when you say "No I don't know that band" he kind of snickers and explains their "sound" to you. &amp;nbsp;Miniature&amp;nbsp;Tigers anyone? &amp;nbsp;As the conversation progressed and our pizza made it's entrance he asked "So when was your last serious relationship?" &amp;nbsp;I told him about it in vague detail and then passed the question baton back to him. &amp;nbsp;However he didn't reach for it as eagerly as I thought he would instead he got very choked up. &amp;nbsp;The testosterone Man had been overcome by emotion and my novice skills as a wannabe therapist took over. &amp;nbsp;"Are you ok? &amp;nbsp;We don't have to talk about it." &amp;nbsp;This was a total lie, I wanted to know everything and be the one to help fix it. &amp;nbsp;The "All Man" Man turned into a volcano of emotions. &amp;nbsp;What the heck happened with this relationship? &amp;nbsp;My friend LT always says &lt;b&gt;"Men tell you who they are by the stories they tell about their lives."&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp;This was going to be a telling story I didn't want to miss out on! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will never get why some guys do that. &amp;nbsp;They put all their emotions into a pit for safe keeping and then when you least expect it a question mark is thrown in and lava tears push their way out. &amp;nbsp;He pulled it together and the testosterone facade was back up. &amp;nbsp;We sat in silence and I am pretty sure I had "What the heck just happened?" painted on my face. &amp;nbsp;Then he said "Nah, it's no big deal. &amp;nbsp;We just broke up 21 months ago and it was kind of....." &amp;nbsp;He didn't finish so I started throwing adjectives at him. &amp;nbsp;"Tough, Troubling, Terrible?" &amp;nbsp;Not sure why they all started with T but whatever. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was troubling to me that he knew the exact date (and i'm sure the time) of when they broke up so I mentioned that it was a pretty specific time frame compared to my "I think it was like a year or two ago" comment. &amp;nbsp;Then the lava tears came, all the way out this time. &amp;nbsp;He brushed them back quickly and covered his face. &amp;nbsp;When I see someone in pain, physical or emotional, I get this pain in my stomach and my nerve endings start pulsing and then I feel a type of pain. &amp;nbsp;This is probably why I get "weird" when I see people cry. &amp;nbsp;I have no idea what to do and I'm overcome myself with a terrible feeling so I usually flee or fix the situation. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After many questions I found out in eeked out sentences that this girl broke his heart and his year at one of the most vulnerable times in a guys life. &amp;nbsp;We keep talking for about an hour but we both didn't want to end the &lt;s&gt;therapy session&lt;/s&gt; date on a sour note so we agree to get a drink at a bar. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However we couldn't go to the bar that I chose because he never called one of the girls that works there back. &amp;nbsp;It looks like I can give him his man card back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-6272504388678365265?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0_IO0FLW3ylRyyMVC2bkxCqtgg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0_IO0FLW3ylRyyMVC2bkxCqtgg/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/Y0_IO0FLW3ylRyyMVC2bkxCqtgg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0_IO0FLW3ylRyyMVC2bkxCqtgg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/0aCJIrR9P9w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/6272504388678365265/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2011/02/emotional-man.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/6272504388678365265?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/6272504388678365265?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/0aCJIrR9P9w/emotional-man.html" title="The Emotional Man" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.8781136 -87.6297982</georss:point><georss:box>41.6224856 -88.0967172 42.1337416 -87.16287919999999</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2011/02/emotional-man.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04HQHw7fSp7ImA9Wx9UE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-5800839375416940744</id><published>2011-02-10T17:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T17:18:51.205-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-10T17:18:51.205-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Moving" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom" /><title>Big News</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Set-Sandstone-Coasters-Texas-Lone/dp/B001JF3K6G?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20&amp;amp;link_code=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Set of 4 Sandstone Coasters - Texas Lone Star" src="http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&amp;amp;ServiceVersion=20070822&amp;amp;ID=AsinImage&amp;amp;WS=1&amp;amp;Format=_SL160_&amp;amp;ASIN=B001JF3K6G&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B001JF3K6G" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;Today I found out that I will be heading to Dallas for a new job opportunity. &amp;nbsp;I'm from Texas so my entire family was thrilled with the news. &amp;nbsp;Each of my parents got special phone calls and when I reached my mom this was how the conversation played out...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Mom&lt;/b&gt;: &amp;nbsp;Hola Clarita! &amp;nbsp;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=1594202613" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me&lt;/b&gt;: Hey Mom...Are you sitting down?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Mom:&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp;Why? &amp;nbsp;Do you have news?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp;Yes I have big news. &amp;nbsp;Wait did you talk to people already?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Mom:&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp;No, No, No Tell me! &amp;nbsp;Oh gosh what's going on?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; &amp;nbsp;Well I was calling to tell you that..&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mom: &lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;[shouting] YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me: &lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Uh What?! &amp;nbsp;Mom. Seriously? &amp;nbsp;I'm not even dating anyone right now. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Mom: &lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Oh ok. &amp;nbsp;I just figured well...I don't know I was hoping. &amp;nbsp;Umm. Well. Oh. &amp;nbsp;Ok so what's the news?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Oh. &amp;nbsp;I'm just...I'm moving to Dallas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Mom: &lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Well that's fun too! &amp;nbsp;Can I decorate your new place?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Watch out Texas...Here I come!&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B0044P5LV0" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-5800839375416940744?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S_2dpED_tp18-c4MD4FsY0cyOdw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S_2dpED_tp18-c4MD4FsY0cyOdw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/pNsVfAlZY5Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/5800839375416940744/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2011/02/big-news.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5800839375416940744?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5800839375416940744?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/pNsVfAlZY5Q/big-news.html" title="Big News" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2011/02/big-news.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkIFQ3s5fSp7ImA9Wx9UEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-5607021669911516494</id><published>2011-02-08T23:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T17:35:12.525-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-09T17:35:12.525-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="2010" /><title>Looking Back...</title><content type="html">I know they say not to look back but instead to always look forward instead. &amp;nbsp;I think those people are wrong. &amp;nbsp;I think it's great to look back on the memories, the laughter, the great and sometimes sad things that happened over the year. &amp;nbsp;This took a while but was well worth it. &amp;nbsp;I have found a way to quantify my joy and it's in photos and paragraphs summing up my year. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;**Feel free to remind me or send me photos of anything I might have forgotten or missed. &amp;nbsp;I'd love to add it to the huge posting I have here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;January&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - I made&amp;nbsp;a pact to be single for one whole year and document it. &amp;nbsp;Mission accomplished.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I started the year out with Katie Kat my sometimes roomie&amp;nbsp;who came&amp;nbsp;to visit and and start wedding plans. &amp;nbsp;I was also punched in the eye by an overzealous fist pumping suburbanite cougar at the SuperDiamond concert.&amp;nbsp; The concerts and the fans did not disappoint.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVGzTESTWGI/AAAAAAAAAF4/PqQvx1Vagl0/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVGzTESTWGI/AAAAAAAAAF4/PqQvx1Vagl0/s200/018.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVGy92E8QwI/AAAAAAAAAF0/EAgNN7L82iQ/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVGy92E8QwI/AAAAAAAAAF0/EAgNN7L82iQ/s200/032.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;February&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - I met that Military guy who, despite our terrible dates and my allergic reaction,&amp;nbsp;is still my friend. &amp;nbsp;I also spent time with my younger brother which I had not done in quite some time. &amp;nbsp;We had a great time and part of that was due to a very memorable Valentines Day dinner hosted by Cheeky Chicago. &amp;nbsp;My neighbor Dorothy, my friend Andrea, and My Co-worker Mario all joined us for a rich dinner at Naha. &amp;nbsp;Next my brother and I flew to meet our new and very cute nephews in Ft. Worth Texas!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I was home for a week then I flew to Atlanta to see my very pregnant bestie Sara and act as her surrogate liver so that her husband could enjoy the wine tasting party and not feel guilty.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVG0QOYHm9I/AAAAAAAAAGE/DDIrPvMmBLo/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVG0QOYHm9I/AAAAAAAAAGE/DDIrPvMmBLo/s200/013.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Crazy little brother&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVGz4fp9dyI/AAAAAAAAAF8/k-szMap6rPc/s1600/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVGz4fp9dyI/AAAAAAAAAF8/k-szMap6rPc/s200/009.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gift from Reza&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVG1ZsahL1I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Po-Yp2eNFu4/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVG1ZsahL1I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Po-Yp2eNFu4/s200/001.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gavin &amp;amp; I&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"&gt;March&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - I managed to put my brave girl pants on and jump into Lake Michigan as a part of the polar plunge. &amp;nbsp;It was a whopping 30 degrees and my friends Kat, Laura, and Paige went to cheer me on. &amp;nbsp;On St. Patty's day I spent the&amp;nbsp;frigid&amp;nbsp;day on the Nike boat drinking hot coco with Laura and dancing with our light up kanye glasses. I later met up with Beth, her friend from CT, Tyler, and a sombrero wearing Kat.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Later I hopped a last minute flight and went to Costa Rica with Kris, a guy I hadn't known very well. &amp;nbsp;We went white water rafting, zip lining, mudding I mean 4Wheeling, surfing, picked up hitchhikers, and swam in the magical tabacon hot springs. &amp;nbsp;I'm so thankful our trip went well because it could have been terrible to be stuck with a zero fun person for a week.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Now our friendship is one that I value greatly. &amp;nbsp;At the end of this crazy month I organized a crazy tour with a company called Weird Chicago that took us on a ghost and sex dungeon tour&amp;nbsp;in Chicago.&amp;nbsp; The dominatrix whose place we saw has&amp;nbsp;now been highlighted on MTV and the History Channel.&amp;nbsp; It's also 2 blocks away from my office downtown in the loop.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVHDm7SQnTI/AAAAAAAAAGk/5iQswa5HZpQ/s1600/044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVHDm7SQnTI/AAAAAAAAAGk/5iQswa5HZpQ/s200/044.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVHC-XLdcdI/AAAAAAAAAGg/h5Py4ix5WfY/s1600/IMG_23230012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="146" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVHC-XLdcdI/AAAAAAAAAGg/h5Py4ix5WfY/s200/IMG_23230012.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVHC0BCn6UI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xFSvKWPAZCo/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVHC0BCn6UI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xFSvKWPAZCo/s200/017.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f1c232;"&gt;April&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - I had my 5th Annual "Welcome Back Jesus" Party also known as Easter. &amp;nbsp;There were actually more Jewish people at the party than there were Christians! &amp;nbsp;We hid eggs in Lincoln Park and smashed cascarones on each others heads too. &amp;nbsp;I also went to a kick ass Atoms for Peace concert with Katz at the Aragon. &amp;nbsp;Flea was amazing and we were very close to the front of the stage along with a guy who smelled like drugs. &amp;nbsp;I ended up going to 7 Cubs Games this month with various friends, got a ride home in someone's unused limo, had a Zack attack, and fell so badly that my knee was bruised for 4 weeks. &amp;nbsp;Later in the month SVENJA came to town and Laura left town. &amp;nbsp;We had a Debbies Daughter Does Dallas party for Laura and Svenja ended up throwing up all over my apartment like the exorcist!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIhhBog0BI/AAAAAAAAAI4/7IwR-Dxt0V4/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIhhBog0BI/AAAAAAAAAI4/7IwR-Dxt0V4/s200/026.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIhXLaTV2I/AAAAAAAAAI0/gE15HUwkO58/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIhXLaTV2I/AAAAAAAAAI0/gE15HUwkO58/s200/022.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;"&gt;May&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;- &amp;nbsp;By this month I thought I was all Cub Gamed out but I went to 3 more games with great groups of people. &amp;nbsp;I had a blast at a derby party with Kat! &amp;nbsp;Then I went to Texas for work and spent some time with my mom and the rest of my family. &amp;nbsp;When I got back I joined Jess in crashing a wedding where I met Seth...I mean Chad. &amp;nbsp;It was a very fun affair until a little person along with other items came out from under the brides dress during what was supposed to be the garter toss. &amp;nbsp;Later I flew to New York to see the Ting Tings, hang out with scamp at a police station, and I met Dreamy Derek. &amp;nbsp;Before the month ended I caught back up with my friend Adam who I had met during a Mid 20's Spring Break the year before. &amp;nbsp;His family graciously took Kat and I out on their boat for some tan time on lake michigan.&amp;nbsp; However, he missed the last part of the party because of my Raspberry Lemonaid.&amp;nbsp; I think there might have been a tad bit of vodka in there.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;June&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;- Best Birthday Month Ever! &amp;nbsp;My friends took me out for a Tacos and Tequila night out. &amp;nbsp;Ami took me for an amazing dinner, J-dubb took me to sparkler Sushi, I got a secret birthday gift from Kris, and I went down to Nashville for CMA Fest with Meg &amp;amp;Sarah! &amp;nbsp;Where we got a bit punchy and enjoyed a ton of shows including a private Jack Ingram concert.&amp;nbsp; When I got home the Blackhawk's won the Stanley Cup which turned Wrigley into the most insane street party ever. &amp;nbsp;I was able to see guys dressed like they stepped out of J.Crew take shots of a homeless man's liter of coke. &amp;nbsp;It's crazy what sparklers, people jumping onto scaffolding, and throwing toilet paper will make people do. &amp;nbsp;Very fun to watch none the less. &amp;nbsp;I also got to see Gavin Rosdale at the Taste of Chicago and after so many years I finally saw Avenue Q...which was hilarious.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: blue;"&gt;July&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - Summer Fun was in full swing with very fun nights out with old and new friends. &amp;nbsp;I also learned how to BBQ with charcoal. &amp;nbsp;The key is to make sure your pyramid pile isn't too tight. &amp;nbsp;My brother and I also flew to see my mom's new home in Denver. &amp;nbsp;We found out she got married, celebrated, and went to a Rockie's game. &amp;nbsp;My sister Meri had a beautiful and incredibly long wedding it lasted until 6am the next day. Mexicans know how to keep a party going. &amp;nbsp;We bon voyaged the happy couple a few times that night. &amp;nbsp;When I got home I was ready to go see the Kings of Leon with Kat. &amp;nbsp;We did get rained out but we met some amazing friends on the bus ride out there along with a Tinley Park Police officer who had an affinity for stuffed animals. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"&gt;August&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - I went to Star Island with my Dad Art, step-mom, and little sister. &amp;nbsp;We were able to swim with dolphins, feed them, go&amp;nbsp;snorkeling, jet ski, and we did some relaxing. &amp;nbsp;When I got back it was Wedding Week for the Katie &amp;amp; Erik extravaganza! &amp;nbsp;We had so much fun and what an amazing venue the Art Institute Modern Wing! &amp;nbsp;After the Wedding action I had to head to DC and was able to meet Rev. Jesse Jackson. &amp;nbsp;Then Dreamy Derek came into town and we had an action packed weekend. &amp;nbsp;After he left I rested for a bit then went to a David Gray and Ray LaMontange concert in&amp;nbsp;Millennium&amp;nbsp;Park with Kat and The Italian. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;September&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - I went on a crazy sailing lesson with Kat that ended in me getting hit on by a very nice older lesbian woman. &amp;nbsp;Cherie and I left Chicago for Vastine Wedding in what turned out to be the most exciting international Wedding I have ever been to. &amp;nbsp;We were escorted to our connecting flight on the tarmac, we went parasailing, played giant chess, had a private butler, Dies y Seis de Septiembre party, and if I remember correctly there was an interaction with a couple from Alabama that I will never forget. &amp;nbsp;When I got home my dad Art came to visit me for the 2nd time since I've been living in Chicago. &amp;nbsp;We had very close seats to home plate and had a great time going out with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"&gt;October&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - In this month I said goodbye to my friend and former make-up artist Louis Anthony at first friday at the museum of contemporary art. &amp;nbsp;Afterwards I spent a weekend in Seattle visiting Dreamy Derek, Katie Kat, Robynn, and Julie. &amp;nbsp;After that weekend the 22nd Floor at work welcomed Emily to Chicago! My friends also learned that I can't resist a cupcake and they should never be closer than 2ft away from me if they don't want me to swoop in and eat 'em up. &amp;nbsp;I spent a week in Texas with my former around the corner neighbor and whole foods shopping buddy Adam. &amp;nbsp;While in Dallas I also got to see my cousin Daniel who took me out for "one drink" where I proceeded to "borrow" a Tiger Woods costume from a fellow patron. &amp;nbsp;After the weekend in Dallas I had a work conference where my ultra shy friend and co-worker Christien had his annual Conference Birthday party. &amp;nbsp;From there I spent another weekend with the newly minted Vastine Family. &amp;nbsp;We had quite an exciting and controversial costume. &amp;nbsp;Before I left I was glad to spend some time with my Sister in Law! &amp;nbsp;We had a great day out with the cutest twin boys ever. &amp;nbsp;And my older brother was able to take a break from giving people tickets so he could give me a hug and chick-fil-a! &amp;nbsp;He's the best! &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;"&gt;November&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - Or shall I say MOvember where almost every man I know was growing out his mustache for Testicular Cancer. &amp;nbsp;This month I went to my first Ben Folds Concert with my friend Kerry. &amp;nbsp;I was also invited to a JUF event to see Sarah Silverman perform by my new friend Ifeanyi.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My former boss Melanie invited me to a fashion show with Austin Scarlet and Santino from Project Runway which was amazing. &amp;nbsp;The 22nd Floor said goodbye to Vince with a Chicago Gangster themed party at Club Lucky in bucktown. &amp;nbsp;Everyone got nicknames too bad only Joey Tightpants can't get rid of his. &amp;nbsp;My friend Ben took me to the SOFA event at Navy Pier and I saw some unique art work and learned what goes into blowing glass. &amp;nbsp;The night before Turkey Day I spent it how I would have in Texas by going out with friends. &amp;nbsp;Which went from tame to crazy in 60 seconds after Zus performed a lap dance and the wackiest game of survivor flip cup ensued. &amp;nbsp;For Thanksgiving I took a trek up to the North Shore and was welcomed in by the Weiner Family. &amp;nbsp;They were so loving and generous I had an amazing time and came back with sore abs from laughing so hard. &amp;nbsp;I also learned a bit about a game called Zorch! &amp;nbsp;Watch out everyone...&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIWw65N-bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/7pByaWX88MI/s1600/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIWw65N-bI/AAAAAAAAAIE/7pByaWX88MI/s200/029.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIWg8NED6I/AAAAAAAAAH8/Eea_RmHpkb8/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIWg8NED6I/AAAAAAAAAH8/Eea_RmHpkb8/s200/007.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIWv7T8TPI/AAAAAAAAAIA/G5eAz9cZ3a4/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIWv7T8TPI/AAAAAAAAAIA/G5eAz9cZ3a4/s200/015.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;December&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - The month started out really great. I was able to invite a few of my girlfriends to the IHCC Gala and we got all decked out together before we went to the event. I was able to meet Gery Chico who is running for Mayor as well as the current San Antonio Mayor. &amp;nbsp;Em and I went to my new friend Crystal's birthday which had a Wig Theme. &amp;nbsp;The same night my friend Kirk was in town with his band The Roots for a concert so we did both! &amp;nbsp;Kirk is one of the most generous people I have ever randomly met. &amp;nbsp;I didn't think we would still be in touch after 4+yrs but we are and I'm grateful. Then as I was gearing up for the annual Graber Girls Pot Luck my Grma (not a typo) passed away. &amp;nbsp;I flew home the next day and went alone to the funeral home to see her before she was finally laid to rest. &amp;nbsp;That was by far one of the toughest things I've ever had to do. &amp;nbsp;A very terrible way to end the year but it did bring my family closer and I got the best present from my Grma. &amp;nbsp;It may look like jewelry but the gift is really the story that we had over the ring she gave me that I remember when I look at my right hand. &amp;nbsp;After we put my Grma to rest I spent the next few days absorbing my family. &amp;nbsp;Maybe a little too much. &amp;nbsp;We had a Christmas Eve Scene It showdown where my sisters and I took home the championship. &amp;nbsp;On Christmas Day my Aunt and my mom had a fish taco showdown. &amp;nbsp;I think my Mom won...but my Aunt Sonya's "Slap yo mamma" spice rub was pretty good as well. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIZ_ZgXCJI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/hYsZav7NiH8/s1600/IMG_2085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIZ_ZgXCJI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/hYsZav7NiH8/s200/IMG_2085.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIaAfZJV6I/AAAAAAAAAIU/g-3cx0MU0eM/s1600/IMG_2086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIaAfZJV6I/AAAAAAAAAIU/g-3cx0MU0eM/s200/IMG_2086.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIZ9wUnXsI/AAAAAAAAAIM/GXJuTE-oLIo/s1600/064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIZ9wUnXsI/AAAAAAAAAIM/GXJuTE-oLIo/s200/064.JPG" width="149" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;astly I'm so&amp;nbsp;grateful&amp;nbsp;to all my family, my old friends, and my new friends. &amp;nbsp;This year is dedicated to a special lady who knew more about aquanet, bling, gold track suits, telling it like it is, laughing, loving, and living life for her family than anyone else I have ever known. &amp;nbsp;I'm sure there was a great fiesta in heaven the day she got there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIcxnkPe3I/AAAAAAAAAIg/C3ln8Yuy0qk/s1600/IMG_4619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIcxnkPe3I/AAAAAAAAAIg/C3ln8Yuy0qk/s320/IMG_4619.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIc6-Zo_wI/AAAAAAAAAIk/iavU49UMzIU/s1600/IMG_4620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TVIc6-Zo_wI/AAAAAAAAAIk/iavU49UMzIU/s640/IMG_4620.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I can't wait to see what 2011 has in store for all of us...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-5607021669911516494?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
I met up with my two lovely girlfriends and then also met up with my friend Zack from Summer of 2010.&amp;nbsp; He is a very fun guy.&amp;nbsp; So much fun that the group he showed up with was already really drunk when they showed up to the actual hotel party.&amp;nbsp; So drunk that one girl was face down in her napkin while we were all talking.&amp;nbsp; Quite interesting.&amp;nbsp; Anyway as Zack and I were scanning the crowd we decided that in order to avoid the awkwardness we would just kiss each other on New Years Eve.&amp;nbsp; Done and Done.&amp;nbsp; Amazingly that took alot of pressure off the night I was free to run around and mingle now.&amp;nbsp; When did it become such a big deal to kiss someone at the stroke of Midnight?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What's up with that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I was running around checking out every possible dance floor and testing out each DJ I lost track of time.&amp;nbsp; At 11:45pm I got a text from Zack saying "Where are you?&amp;nbsp; I'm at the downstairs party left side of the dance floor."&amp;nbsp; I grabbed two glasses of champagne and headed down to the lower party.&amp;nbsp; It took me a while to get there and when I did I saw Zack dancing and what looked like kissing a shorter troll looking girl.&amp;nbsp; I stood there shocked.&amp;nbsp; He saw me as I was stomping off the dance floor upset, and grabbed my wrist and said "Let me just get rid of her.&amp;nbsp; You are my date don't get sassy on me."&amp;nbsp; He turned around to tend to this girl before I could say "No Thanks."&amp;nbsp; Just as I was trying to escape and find my girlfriends I ran into Mystery guy.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cut to 10pm when the girls and I were heading down an escalator to the party.&amp;nbsp; Mystery guy was going up on the escalator and said "That girl right there in the white."&amp;nbsp; I turned and smiled and he said "That's my dream girl!"&amp;nbsp; I smiled and gave him a thumbs up because I was too embarassed to say anything back.&amp;nbsp; He said "I'm sure I'll see you before the nights out and winked."&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Back to 11:58pm when I was storming off the dance floor I tripped and was caught by none other than Mystery guy.&amp;nbsp; He looked at me and said "No way this is happening."&amp;nbsp; I said "Well it looks like your wish just came true."&amp;nbsp; Zack came back over just as the count down was starting....10...9...I looked at both my options...8....7...6....Zack is pulling me...5....4....3...decision made....2....I turn around and plant one on Mystery Guy.&amp;nbsp; Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-1497982732338968074?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
I have picked my undergarments but now I need to pick a dress. &amp;nbsp;And I need your help picking a dress! &amp;nbsp;I'll be going to a hotel party at the Hyatt. &amp;nbsp;My dates are two beautiful friends and a guy who would be a love child of a librarian and blond hair blue eyed viking. &amp;nbsp;Here are the three dresses that I have to choose from...I'm leaning towards the white but I'd like your opinion. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hope you all are ready for a fantastic 2011!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;#1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TR0PoKHihzI/AAAAAAAAAFg/1ZBXVb5h08M/s1600/photo+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TR0PoKHihzI/AAAAAAAAAFg/1ZBXVb5h08M/s640/photo+%25283%2529.JPG" width="478" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;#2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TR0PxgbFmII/AAAAAAAAAFk/_pciJlPfEMw/s1600/photo+%25284%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TR0PxgbFmII/AAAAAAAAAFk/_pciJlPfEMw/s640/photo+%25284%2529.JPG" width="478" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
The next day I woke up over and over starting at 3:30am. &amp;nbsp;We had to do it all over again but this time we made it there by 7am, and after the summit I had to go to my GMAT math course from 6:30pm - 9:30pm. &amp;nbsp;During class I got a message from my friend that Sol my neighbor had been taken to Northwestern for tests and they were trying to get in touch with me. &amp;nbsp;I rushed over to the hospital at 9:45pm and was able to bypass normal visiting hours and see my friend. &amp;nbsp;I got the run down from the doctors that he was probably faking sick because he dislikes his new nursing home so much. &amp;nbsp;He swore he was ill. &amp;nbsp;After the nurses kicked me out I walked to the nearest bus stop and waited. &amp;nbsp;Normally I would have jumped in a cab but I had no cash. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I was waiting there I sat my heavy bags down next to a girl and she said "Do you want me to move over so you can sit too?" &amp;nbsp;I thanked her and as soon as she moved an inch I threw myself into the tiny spot she vacated for me. &amp;nbsp;She kept staring at me and I realized I forgot to thank her for the seat. &amp;nbsp;Her response was "Well. &amp;nbsp;You look exhausted. &amp;nbsp;Long day?" &amp;nbsp;I'm sure "long day" was a&amp;nbsp;rhetorical&amp;nbsp;question but I proceeded to tell her about the hours prior to my encounter with her. &amp;nbsp;After I was done giving the rundown of my sleepless nights and terrible math abilities I asked how her day went. &amp;nbsp;"So now that you know my last 48hrs how were your Monday &amp;amp; Tuesday?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We were now facing each other and she had a bit of&amp;nbsp;apprehension&amp;nbsp;and slowly said "Well I'm not sure if I'm glad or sad but today was my last chemotherapy session. &amp;nbsp;I find out how it all went next Wednesday."&lt;br /&gt;
I smiled and said "Well don't I feel like an asshole. &amp;nbsp;I should have asked first." &amp;nbsp;We both laughed and I asked her about treatment and she told me that she wishes she had as much energy as I did for the last two days. &amp;nbsp;I couldn't tell how big she was but when we got up to get on the bus she was about 5'7 and seemed to have a very thin frame. &amp;nbsp;She said that after therapy she felt so sick she just wanted to sleep and didn't have the energy to even get her nails done. &amp;nbsp;Not that it was any consolation but I showed her my chipped nails and said "Well if it's any consolation, even if you get them done it's not guaranteed they will look good." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We talked for a while especially since we were at the start of our bus drivers shift so she took her 15min break with the two of us on board. &amp;nbsp;We talked about quite a few things and I learned she had to take vacation days from work to get her treatments done, she helps her family pay their bills, and she loves her life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As our bus got going again I asked her if she was doing anything to celebrate the news on Wednesday. &amp;nbsp;Her response was pretty bone chilling when she said, "But what if they tell me that I will die?" &amp;nbsp;Hearing Sol talk about death is almost like a joke and I feel like he isn't really going anywhere anytime soon but hearing her say that cut straight through my skin. &amp;nbsp;I sat there motionless and heard my own heartbeat. She brushed it off and said "Come on Come on. &amp;nbsp;Tell me more about your&amp;nbsp;embarrassing&amp;nbsp;moments." &amp;nbsp;I couldn't let it go so I said "I think you should have a party either way." &amp;nbsp;She smiled and said "Why?" and I said "Because either way you'll be surrounded by friends and family and you'll have fun." &amp;nbsp;She smiled and feeling encouraged I said "I can help plan it if you want. &amp;nbsp;It can be at a really cute wine bar and..."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"You really like helping people don't you? &amp;nbsp;This is why you never have time." &amp;nbsp;She bluntly said to me. &amp;nbsp;It was getting closer to where I was going to transfer and we exchanged numbers and she said "What would be the theme...Hey I'm peacing out. &amp;nbsp;Lets go party while I'm still here?" &amp;nbsp;And I said "I"m moving on to bigger and better things!" &amp;nbsp;It works in both scenarios! &amp;nbsp;She let out a pretty hearty laugh that leads me to believe she was humoring me beforehand. &amp;nbsp;She reached out and gave me a hug that almost brought me to my knees. &amp;nbsp;I hopped off the bus and I caught the #22 up to my apartment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lessons Learned: &amp;nbsp;Don't complain, especially not at a hospital bus stop. &amp;nbsp;On a more serious note there is a quote I once heard, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Love your problems, it's guaranteed someone has it worse. &amp;nbsp;I will be sliding into heaven with a glass of red wine, dark chocolate cupcake&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B002I4CLC6" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B002I4CLC6" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;, and a party hat in hand and I hope you all will join me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B003BGINCM&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
If you would like to donate money or raise awareness about Cancer get involved with the American Cancer Society at www.cancer.org&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-2463245920618475776?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f78cxT01OoavWpe561Cq6KX6v64/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f78cxT01OoavWpe561Cq6KX6v64/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f78cxT01OoavWpe561Cq6KX6v64/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f78cxT01OoavWpe561Cq6KX6v64/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/70DgflYyC0E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/2463245920618475776/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/12/cancer-sucks.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/2463245920618475776?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/2463245920618475776?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/70DgflYyC0E/cancer-sucks.html" title="Cancer Sucks" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.8781136 -87.6297982</georss:point><georss:box>41.6224856 -88.0967172 42.1337416 -87.16287919999999</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/12/cancer-sucks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MMSXw8eCp7ImA9Wx9RFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-3673549985649253316</id><published>2010-12-15T10:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T10:11:28.270-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-15T10:11:28.270-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Neighbor" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ned" /><title>Should you date your neighbor?</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TQjoNSqu78I/AAAAAAAAAFY/VyH0izg6kLM/s1600/largeview_chicago22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TQjoNSqu78I/AAAAAAAAAFY/VyH0izg6kLM/s320/largeview_chicago22.jpg" width="230" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;his summer&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I ran into a guy who looked particularly lost.&amp;nbsp; He asked me where the storage area was in our building.&amp;nbsp; Considering he was outside our building at the time I figured I should probably walk him into our basement.&amp;nbsp; As I was walking him to the basement I found out he was new to Chicago and my building.&amp;nbsp; I ended up asking him a hundred questions (our elevator is slow) and he suggested we hang out and I show him around Chicago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I never saw him again after that moment so I had forgotten about him.&amp;nbsp; Then last week on my walk back in from our garage I saw him.&amp;nbsp; My lips were&amp;nbsp;dry, red and wind burnt, my hair was wet from snow blowing into my hoodie and I was fighting with my jacket and bags that I was carrying trying to find my keys.&amp;nbsp; Very sexy to say the least.&amp;nbsp; I finally found them made my way into the hallway and pushed the button for the elevator and as I removed my hood which is the equivilant of horse blinders he magically appeared in my line of sight.&amp;nbsp; I figured he wouldn't remember me so I didn't say anything.&amp;nbsp; But just in case I searched through my bag for my lip gloss.&amp;nbsp; As I was pretending to be busy searching through my handbag he leaned over and said "Hey...Clara right?&amp;nbsp; Do you remember me?"&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was trying to hide my chapped lips so I was sucking them inward and pretending to bite them which probably drew more attention to them in the long run.&amp;nbsp; I responded with "Yeah, how have you been?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We made small talk and he said "Are you free this weekend?&amp;nbsp; You can finally show me around Chicago."&amp;nbsp; I actually had plans so I said "No, i'm sorry I'm busy."&amp;nbsp; Then he said "Well maybe the following week, how about that?"&amp;nbsp; I was going to be out of town so I said "You know what I'm going to be out of town.&amp;nbsp; I can make a spreadsheet for you of all the places you should check out.&amp;nbsp; That could help you find your way around and get to see some really cool sites."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He stared at me and seemed like he was trying to get something out.&amp;nbsp; I was starting to think that I sounded like the biggest bullet point nerd ever and then he said "Well I guess I didn't do this right, but I was trying to ask you out.&amp;nbsp; I wasn't too focused on seeing Chicago."&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Whoops.&amp;nbsp; I wonder how many people have tried to ask me out and I just haven't picked up on it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So my big question to myself now is...Should I go out with my neighbor?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-3673549985649253316?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HeVpc0JvOQAsX9Q6TAR_TXi_Q_k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HeVpc0JvOQAsX9Q6TAR_TXi_Q_k/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/HeVpc0JvOQAsX9Q6TAR_TXi_Q_k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HeVpc0JvOQAsX9Q6TAR_TXi_Q_k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/LwvpxkGn2GQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/3673549985649253316/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/12/should-you-date-your-neighbor.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/3673549985649253316?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/3673549985649253316?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/LwvpxkGn2GQ/should-you-date-your-neighbor.html" title="Should you date your neighbor?" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TQjoNSqu78I/AAAAAAAAAFY/VyH0izg6kLM/s72-c/largeview_chicago22.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.8781136 -87.6297982</georss:point><georss:box>41.6224856 -88.0967172 42.1337416 -87.16287919999999</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/12/should-you-date-your-neighbor.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYHRn09cSp7ImA9Wx9RFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-8622116461073547465</id><published>2010-12-15T09:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T09:48:57.369-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-15T09:48:57.369-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="scamp" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dreamy Derek" /><title>Dreamy Derek Came to Chicago</title><content type="html">I was cleaning out my facebook messages and stumbled across one that made me laugh and thought I would share.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Back in August a friend, you might remember from my blog about my trip to NYC, Dreamy Derek came to Chicago.&amp;nbsp; He had a wedding to attend and made mention of popping by to say hello.&amp;nbsp; It was also right around the time the "Places" button was added to the facebook app.&amp;nbsp; Derek managed to check us in everywhere we went and our mutual friend scamp sent me a message titled "Spill the Beans".&amp;nbsp; Asking if I was really checking in with DD all over Chicago, and&amp;nbsp;wanting to know what I was doing with him.&amp;nbsp; I'm 100% sure it was the 9th check-in at Proseco that did it (See NYC Blog posting about my bizarre dinner there).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TNrmU7wpvvI/AAAAAAAAAFI/Mu7QgYO9uDw/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TNrmU7wpvvI/AAAAAAAAAFI/Mu7QgYO9uDw/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Silly photos from our Sunday Funday&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TNrmZF1mN3I/AAAAAAAAAFM/ZMnvNQp2hkU/s1600/photo1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TNrmZF1mN3I/AAAAAAAAAFM/ZMnvNQp2hkU/s320/photo1.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Photo by Derek&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;This was my response to scamp...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Hey!&amp;nbsp; We were only supposed to hang out Sunday but he had some free time and asked me to lunch on Friday then we kind of never stopped hanging out.&amp;nbsp; He loves that check in app it's ridiculous. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Overall really fun trip.&amp;nbsp; On Saturday he made mention of our first encounter at Proseco I almost dropped the proseco in my hand but held on strong.&amp;nbsp; No spillage this time.&amp;nbsp; Very awkward.&amp;nbsp; So I guess my string of bizarre dinners at Proseco continues.&amp;nbsp; I'm going to go to a different restaurant on my next date.&amp;nbsp; Although I'm not sure if I would call our hanging out "dates" since it felt like we never stopped hanging out.&amp;nbsp; Just a series of meet ups.&amp;nbsp; I think he might also have an issue with leading people on because it seems like girls all over the place believe that he is dating them.&amp;nbsp; Not exactly bright girls either.&amp;nbsp; One of them sends him messages like "I'm wearing amazing shoes tonight."&amp;nbsp; I never knew text messages like that existed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Anyway funny trip, lots of quirky moments.&amp;nbsp; Especially since I realized that I had only met him once before and for a few hours.&amp;nbsp; People always seem completly different in your head, then you meet them again.&amp;nbsp; He was much shorter than I remembered.&amp;nbsp; How was your weekend?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If you do come to Chicago I suggest you find these two books, very nifty to have!&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0756660696&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0976413132&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-8622116461073547465?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2QAlkMVvWucLJHfs0W-MqvUFKUI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2QAlkMVvWucLJHfs0W-MqvUFKUI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/BeQ88AMd2XY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/8622116461073547465/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/12/dreamy-derek-came-to-chicago.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/8622116461073547465?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/8622116461073547465?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/BeQ88AMd2XY/dreamy-derek-came-to-chicago.html" title="Dreamy Derek Came to Chicago" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TNrmU7wpvvI/AAAAAAAAAFI/Mu7QgYO9uDw/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.8781136 -87.6297982</georss:point><georss:box>41.6224856 -88.0967172 42.1337416 -87.16287919999999</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/12/dreamy-derek-came-to-chicago.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MNR3s7cCp7ImA9Wx9TEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-9162240715178428402</id><published>2010-11-19T11:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T11:58:16.508-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-19T11:58:16.508-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Random Night out" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lucy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="embarrassed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dreamy Derek" /><title>Pole Dancing with a 65yr Old</title><content type="html">Last night it was a co-worker's goodbye party.&amp;nbsp; The night got started off casually and before we knew it the table of 5 (we won't count Joey Tightpants b/c he didn't drink) consumed 3 bottles of wine.&amp;nbsp; Yes I call one of my co-workers Joey Tightpants as a result of my Mafia themed party a few weeks ago in another goodbye party for Vincenzo the Asian with the Italian name.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So back to my story&amp;nbsp;my friend Lucy&amp;nbsp;who has moved back in town from Atlanta decided we should keep the party going.&amp;nbsp; I was fading but she convinced me it would be "just one drink out."&amp;nbsp; I have traveled with&amp;nbsp;Lucy and I know "one drink out" really means "I just need to con her into coming out for 1hr then let the fun suck her in."&amp;nbsp; The following is a part of an email that I wrote my girlfriend in Seattle who wanted a full report after my facebook posting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;OMG! &amp;nbsp;I made a total fool of myself but it was kind of awesome. So my friend&amp;nbsp;Lucy is very fun and random. I wanted to go home but she conned me into 1 drink out. We went to two bars that were total duds then this doorman at a bar&amp;nbsp;we were walking by said "You'll have fun here, I'll start it off w/2 shots."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bad decisions starting early.&amp;nbsp; These two Italian mobster wannabes came over and bought us a drink.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I was annoyed with the conversation they started asking how much money I made then they guessed my age, and wanted me to do a twirl.&amp;nbsp; They guessed 22.&amp;nbsp; I'm 24 now by the way.&amp;nbsp; Very boring conversation so I decided to spice it up.&amp;nbsp; After they said I looked good I thanked them and I told them I was still losing my baby weight.&amp;nbsp; I worked at a call center for $12.87/hr and I drink because it's customer service and people tell me their problems.&amp;nbsp;Slick hair&amp;nbsp;left shortly after that. Then before I knew it there was a girl with the microphone who came over to chat with us and she learned my name and later called me up on their crappy stage with 3 poles on it. I brought an old lady in her 60's (weirdest crowd ever) up on stage with me.&amp;nbsp; I only stayed up there dancing with the old lady for so long because she was showing me up and because the girl with the microphone kept saying "Clara's got skillz!"&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;have zero sexy&amp;nbsp;and I know it so it's OK.&amp;nbsp; I now have pole burn on my hands. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;Then we played beer pong with some guys, I found out the guy who kept trying to kiss me had a girlfriend so on our&amp;nbsp;walk home he wanted to stop in CVS and I wanted to stop and teach him a lesson. I said that I knew he had a girlfriend and I wouldn't let him walk me home because I knew deep down he was a terrible person. He just stared at me and then I shouted at 1:30am in a semi-busy CVS "It's YOUR BABY and I'm KEEPIN IT!!!!!" and I walked off. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;I then called a few people and left really insane vmails on their phones. My friend Ron got a Spanish lady asking him to "peek up de fon..."&amp;nbsp; Then for some crazy reason I called&amp;nbsp;Dreamy Derek&amp;nbsp;b/c I figured he would be up since it was early west coast time. He was also tipsy or he said that to make me feel better and I don't know what we talked about for 41min but at one point in the conversation I told him that he was a liar. Terrible idea. &amp;nbsp;I also ate my way through a Trader Joe's Mac n' Cheese thing while chatting, they are amazing but probably meant for 2 people to eat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;Then I passed out. But I did manage to wash my face.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lesson(s) Learned:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't go to a bar called Shenanigans without your own&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Just because a&amp;nbsp;22yr old with hot pink net&amp;nbsp;gloves, sparkly&amp;nbsp;hot pants, and a microphone&amp;nbsp;cheers you on doesn't mean you have&amp;nbsp;dance "skillz."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Don't ever try to&amp;nbsp;show up a woman in a sequin jacket and an AARP card.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Public Humiliation is fun and effective&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-9162240715178428402?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ytlu4k6zeUUsl4sA2cDFSwov89w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ytlu4k6zeUUsl4sA2cDFSwov89w/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/Ytlu4k6zeUUsl4sA2cDFSwov89w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Ytlu4k6zeUUsl4sA2cDFSwov89w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/JnqkHByJX_o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/9162240715178428402/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/11/pole-dancing-with-65yr-old.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/9162240715178428402?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/9162240715178428402?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/JnqkHByJX_o/pole-dancing-with-65yr-old.html" title="Pole Dancing with a 65yr Old" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.8781136 -87.6297982</georss:point><georss:box>41.6224856 -88.0967172 42.1337416 -87.16287919999999</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/11/pole-dancing-with-65yr-old.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IHRn8zeyp7ImA9Wx5aGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-5150870546180803702</id><published>2010-11-15T15:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T15:12:17.183-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-15T15:12:17.183-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="embarrassed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vivian" /><title>My name is Vivian...When I'm bored</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Last night I went out with five very fun girlfriends.&amp;nbsp; It seems like the &lt;a href="http://www.suite101.com/content/the-turkey-dump-a172076"&gt;Turkey Dump&lt;/a&gt;  (Just Bing it, you'll see) happened early this year and now that some of my friends are newly single a party was in order.&amp;nbsp; We  had a great sushi dinner then decided to head out to a pretty swanky  place in Chicago.&amp;nbsp; As I made my way to the bar to order a 2nd drink a  guy five people away was shouting down the bar in my direction "VIVIAN!&amp;nbsp;  VIVIAN!"&amp;nbsp; I looked over and gave him a tight lipped "wow you're  embarrassing yourself" smile.&amp;nbsp; He kept shouting and was now waving his hands  like his fingers were getting an electric shock.&amp;nbsp; Eventually he stopped and I'm assuming he found  Vivian.&amp;nbsp; However, the bartender walked over with a drink and said "Hey this is for  Vivian."&amp;nbsp; I looked at the girl next to me who was not paying attention and I  nudged her and said "Hey! Someone bought you a drink."&amp;nbsp; The very snooty and unrealistically blond girl responds with "I'm not  Vivian or with that crazy guy."&amp;nbsp; The bartender leaned across the bar and shouting over the loud  music said, "NO YOU!"&amp;nbsp; I pointed to myself as most people do when they are confused.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ebonite-See-Saw-Bowling-Polisher-Carrier/dp/B000MECMNC?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20&amp;amp;link_code=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Ebonite Deluxe See-Saw Bowling Ball Polisher Carrier (Colors Will Vary)" src="http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&amp;amp;ServiceVersion=20070822&amp;amp;ID=AsinImage&amp;amp;WS=1&amp;amp;Format=_SL160_&amp;amp;ASIN=B000MECMNC&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I grabbed the drink and walked  over to explain to the guy that I am not Vivian.&amp;nbsp; As soon as I walked over  he leaned down and said, "Hey!!&amp;nbsp; How have you been?"&amp;nbsp; I have no clue who this guy is.&amp;nbsp; I  felt bad breaking it to him but couldn't accept the drink "I don't think we've met."&amp;nbsp; He then explained where we met and I was yanked back to the memory.&amp;nbsp; It was at a bar party  in Chicago and I was there to meet up with a friend from Texas who I had not seen  in a long time.&amp;nbsp; I didn't think I would ever run into any of the  people at the party again, and I was also bored out of my mind, so I created a  fake name and job.&amp;nbsp; That night I became a professional bowler named Vivian, had been in  the league 4yrs hoping to go pro and make it onto ESPN3 some day.&amp;nbsp; I stopped short of giving bowling advice.&amp;nbsp; My  side job was cutting hair in the suburbs so I gave hair advice instead.&amp;nbsp; Ahhh...The things people do when  they are bored.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TOBFfHdSRQI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/AJcutQMsGT0/s1600/photo.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TOBFfHdSRQI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/AJcutQMsGT0/s320/photo.jpg" style="clear: both; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As he was talking I found out his name was Kevin.&amp;nbsp; I now had an issue, my oldest brother is named Kevin, I can't fake number him or be rude and walk away after he bought me a drink.&amp;nbsp; I think it's harder to hurt someones feelings if they share the same name as a family member or close friend. I didn't have the heart to tell him  and I also had already sipped half the drink during his lengthy story  about a tax law case that was currently in mediation.&amp;nbsp; So I  was Vivian again and I spoke with him for way too long because I ended up losing my  friends and felt obligated to give him my phone number.&amp;nbsp; I still could not break the news via text the following day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Lesson  Learned:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt; Always re-think the phrase "You will never see any of  these people again."&amp;nbsp; Oh and make sure you end the impersonator joke the same evening, it's pretty hard to do 6months later.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-5150870546180803702?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/atUkxHHPsjyUxT-5fCYxDjdsxQI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/atUkxHHPsjyUxT-5fCYxDjdsxQI/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/atUkxHHPsjyUxT-5fCYxDjdsxQI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/atUkxHHPsjyUxT-5fCYxDjdsxQI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/eRvpdsr3frM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/5150870546180803702/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-name-is-vivianwhen-im-bored.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5150870546180803702?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5150870546180803702?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/eRvpdsr3frM/my-name-is-vivianwhen-im-bored.html" title="My name is Vivian...When I'm bored" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TOBFfHdSRQI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/AJcutQMsGT0/s72-c/photo.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.8781136 -87.6297982</georss:point><georss:box>41.6224856 -88.0967172 42.1337416 -87.16287919999999</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-name-is-vivianwhen-im-bored.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEANQHw-cSp7ImA9Wx5aE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-3843935159054827841</id><published>2010-11-10T07:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T07:46:31.259-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-10T07:46:31.259-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="embarrassed" /><title>Tech Support Embarrassment</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Internet-Password-Organizer-R-Mate/dp/1441449779?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20&amp;amp;link_code=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Internet Password Organizer (R): Mate" src="http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&amp;amp;ServiceVersion=20070822&amp;amp;ID=AsinImage&amp;amp;WS=1&amp;amp;Format=_SL160_&amp;amp;ASIN=1441449779&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=1441449779" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" width="1" /&gt;Lets be honest I embarrass myself 99% of the time and on a rare occasion someone embarrasses me.&amp;nbsp; Like when my former boss Mike called me pretending to be our security check in and told me that I had flowers waiting for me.&amp;nbsp; I went to the lobby and they sent me to our delivery room in the basement.&amp;nbsp; I was asking around for about 10min convinced that someone else had taken my flowers.&amp;nbsp; As I was getting flustered I revisited the sound of the overtly husky voice on the phone.&amp;nbsp; Awesome.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today I had the pleasure of embarrassing myself.&amp;nbsp; Our ordering portal for business cards was not working, I have been in this job for 7months and still have not been able to order these cards.&amp;nbsp; I always got to the "check out" button but instead of entering my credit card it sends me ALL the way back to start over and re-type in my information.&amp;nbsp; A person can only do this so many times before you sincerely consider assaulting&amp;nbsp;any&amp;nbsp;electronic equipment nearby.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I made the call to our help desk which is conveniently located in Mumbai.&amp;nbsp; I have no idea what "Rich" is trying to tell me so he eventually takes over my computer and tries to show me.&amp;nbsp; He is completely baffled as well and instead of fixing the problem accuses me of doing something to break the system.&amp;nbsp; Yes, "Rich" I have deadlines to meet but today I decided to abandon real work and my goal was to make YOUR life tougher.&amp;nbsp; We both end up at Tech Support level 3 which lands me back in the US with a guy from IBM who couldn't care less about my problem or the software they developed to order business cards.&amp;nbsp; I now have 3 tech guys on the phone and they are all trying to figure out how to order me business cards.&amp;nbsp; We have to go to another website to contact someone else and this requires my Global password.&amp;nbsp; The following conversation ensues.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;IBM guy:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Clara what's your password so we can access all the sites with your global log on and take over your computer?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Can I just enter it&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;IBM Guy:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; It'll be easier if you just tell us so that we can enter it for each website and you can work on other stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; I'll just enter it&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;"Rich":&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Tiz easiah if you give to us this password &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;IBM Guy:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Just tell us I don't want to have to give you back control to enter it 5 times it'll eat up tons of time&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;"Rich":&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Iz ziz a probleem Miss Gaza?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[Debating if I want to give them my password.&amp;nbsp; I have been on the phone for a total of 67min.&amp;nbsp; I have spoken to 3 technicians from 2 different countries and while on hold for IBM learned all about Rich's love of cricket and his 5 children.&amp;nbsp; I don't think I can do this again tomorrow]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Tech #2:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Clara?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Ok Ok.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;"Rich":&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Ah very good &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;Wait, can I change it before?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;IBM Guy:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THAT WILL TAKE?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; Ok Fine.&amp;nbsp; It's...it's...Whofartedon22 and the W is capitalized&lt;br /&gt;
[Silence]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;IBM Guy:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; What was that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Me:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt; Whofartedon22&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;IBM Guy:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt; [breaks out into some snorting laughter]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful that after the long silence laughter broke through.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I like to create passwords that make me laugh.&amp;nbsp; It adds some fun to my day.&amp;nbsp; Don't judge me.&amp;nbsp; Just start doing it, you'll see how it brings a smile to your day.&amp;nbsp; Except when you're on with Tech Support.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-3843935159054827841?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VRmZs94qABAbxLri14DDG7IKnio/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VRmZs94qABAbxLri14DDG7IKnio/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/K5C4vkfPyKE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/3843935159054827841/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/11/tech-support-embarrassment.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/3843935159054827841?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/3843935159054827841?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/K5C4vkfPyKE/tech-support-embarrassment.html" title="Tech Support Embarrassment" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.8781136 -87.6297982</georss:point><georss:box>41.6224856 -88.0967172 42.1337416 -87.16287919999999</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/11/tech-support-embarrassment.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MESHg6eCp7ImA9Wx5UF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-4729756285113726018</id><published>2010-10-21T18:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T18:56:49.610-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-21T18:56:49.610-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chipper" /><title>Why are you so happy?</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Auguste-Rodin-Albums-Gilles-Neret/dp/3822886629?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20&amp;amp;link_code=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Auguste Rodin (Albums Series)" src="http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&amp;amp;ServiceVersion=20070822&amp;amp;ID=AsinImage&amp;amp;WS=1&amp;amp;Format=_SL160_&amp;amp;ASIN=3822886629&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today was a particularly rough day at work. &amp;nbsp;I was scheduled to be in meetings all day and if I hadn't had a planned lunch meeting to speak at I'm pretty sure I would have had to forgo lunch. &amp;nbsp;All my own doing of course, I'm a bit of an overachiever at work and I like to get more done that is requested of me. &amp;nbsp;Compounded with the fact that I have a hard time saying "No" to people I am more likely than not to spread myself too thin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At my lunch meeting I mingled until I got a good idea of who I was going to be sitting with at my table that way I could choose who I wanted to sit next to. &amp;nbsp;At this point I was feeling a bit overwhelmed and disenchanted with my current position and wanted someones good energy to rub off a little on me. &amp;nbsp;I never said I wasn't selfish. &amp;nbsp;I saw a woman I recognized and remembered she was enjoyable to talk to. &amp;nbsp;After noting where she sat I set my things down in a chair next to her and set off to meet a few more people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
During lunch this woman and myself got to talking and she had the greatest smile in all her comments and questions it really got me a bit giddy and I was happy that I had sat next to her. &amp;nbsp;My mental thoughts were moving away from the anticipated work I had to go back to and leaning towards the fun conversationalist next to me. &amp;nbsp;She was going to Paris for the first time and I was talking to her about the Rodin Museum along with all the fun I had there. &amp;nbsp;Good mood was rubbing off on me...score! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As we were both&amp;nbsp;carefully&amp;nbsp;eying&amp;nbsp;desert and deciding if it was worth the caloric intake I said "You deserve it you seem to be in such an awesome mood." &amp;nbsp;She leaned in close and whispered, out of earshot of her boss who was seated next to her, "Well it's because I'm resigning tomorrow. &amp;nbsp;You might want to take notes on my part of the speech they'll probably ask you to cover for me until they can get someone in January."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sweet. &amp;nbsp;Next time I'm sitting next to the grouch at the very least I will know that I am having a better day than them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=3822886629" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-4729756285113726018?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I-co0JsCFh8OeBy48iMb0Vmsxuk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I-co0JsCFh8OeBy48iMb0Vmsxuk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/XsPGmDigFaI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/4729756285113726018/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/10/why-are-you-so-happy.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/4729756285113726018?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/4729756285113726018?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/XsPGmDigFaI/why-are-you-so-happy.html" title="Why are you so happy?" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.8781136 -87.6297982</georss:point><georss:box>41.6224856 -88.0967172 42.1337416 -87.16287919999999</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/10/why-are-you-so-happy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMGQXo_eSp7ImA9Wx5WGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-5636714036344195161</id><published>2010-09-30T15:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T15:27:00.441-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-30T15:27:00.441-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chipotle" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Bad Dates" /><title>The Great Burrito Date</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TKTxVqmk_8I/AAAAAAAAAEc/SMvnFOzAox0/s1600/chipotle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="248" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TKTxVqmk_8I/AAAAAAAAAEc/SMvnFOzAox0/s320/chipotle.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I've had a few emails from people asking why I haven't been on any dates latley. I haven't been on any dates since the begining of summer for a few reasons. 1. I've been busy traveling, and when I am here I want to spend time outdoors with good friends. 2. I have been studying for the GMAT (Send me some good vibes people, I'll be taking my test tomorrow!). and 3. My last date was also one that would send most girls into thinking that dating might be too much of a hassle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I met this person whom I'll call Buddy at my old Church in lakeview. I'm not going to lie I didn't go very often but I did make a couple of friends while I was there.&amp;nbsp; A few&amp;nbsp;were very into volunteering and I really enjoyed helping with the children's programs through Chicago Cares. I met Buddy through a girl at church who brought him along to a coffee meet up. She thought we would be a "great match" after she saw us&amp;nbsp;interact.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What constitutes a "great match?"&amp;nbsp; Because none of those dates have worked out, ever. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
So a little bit about my date, he is about 6'2 with a runners build, dark brown eyes, and deep olive skin.&amp;nbsp; Basically tall, dark, and handsome with a bit&amp;nbsp;of preppy charm.&amp;nbsp; I knew he&amp;nbsp;was incredibly friendly&amp;nbsp;since I had met him once before during a volunteer outing with Chicago Cares.&amp;nbsp; If a guy volunteers on a Saturday morning you know that he has a good heart, and Buddy is no exception.&amp;nbsp; I was pretty excited to go out with him since I knew he was a nice guy and my friend stamped her seal of approval.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we coordinated this date all we had spoken about was him picking me up at 7:30pm and going out for dinner.&amp;nbsp; I had a new sleeveless v-neck&amp;nbsp;deep blue and tan wrap dress that was ready for a spin.&amp;nbsp; I paired it with cute navy blue heels and got giddy for the date.&amp;nbsp; At 7:25pm he was downstairs and ready to pick me up.&amp;nbsp; As I walked outside of my building I didn't see a car.&amp;nbsp; I searched and saw a guy with a helmet waving to me from a scooter.&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;This isn't happening to me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/em&gt;I faked an excited smile (the smile where you show ALL your teeth) and cautiously walked over.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TKTyLJBFEEI/AAAAAAAAAEg/l5JYy0IYQ4c/s1600/moped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TKTyLJBFEEI/AAAAAAAAAEg/l5JYy0IYQ4c/s320/moped.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As I checked him out I noticed he was wearing a casual forest green polo t-shirt, jeans, and black chuck taylors.&amp;nbsp; He looked extremely casual.&amp;nbsp; He took off his helmet and had a huge grin on his face.&amp;nbsp; "Wow you're really dressed up cutie!"&amp;nbsp; I smiled clenching my jaw this time pressing my lips together tightly.&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;This&amp;nbsp;isn't even a real motorcycle.&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; "Yeah, I didn't even realize that you had one of these I've only seen your car," I said&amp;nbsp;as energetically as possible.&amp;nbsp; He grinned and said "It's my new toy.&amp;nbsp; I thought you would want a bit of adventure, plus we aren't going very far."&amp;nbsp; I thought about changing but figured it would take too long and I would seem high maintenance.&amp;nbsp; He let me wear the helmet and we took his scooter down Clark Street towards division.&amp;nbsp; I was wondering where we were going but didn't want to ask until we got to a stop light since I was afraid of bugs going in my mouth.&amp;nbsp; As soon as we got to the corner of division and state street he parked the scooter and went to pay for the meter.&amp;nbsp; He helped me put on the helmet so I wasn't exactly sure how to take it off.&amp;nbsp; After struggling and looking like an animal that got&amp;nbsp;their head stuck into a small container I finally got it off as he was walking back from the meter.&amp;nbsp; He looked at me and laughingly said "Wow quite the hair you've got there now."&amp;nbsp; I looked at my reflection in a nearby store window&amp;nbsp;and my&amp;nbsp; hair looked similar to a troll doll from the early '90s, there was no way I was going to get rid of this static cling.&amp;nbsp; I tried to pat it down as best as possible but just shrugged and decided this date was going to continue going down this path so I might as well enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He helped try to smooth out my hair then he started to lead me towards our destination.&amp;nbsp; We walked right up to the Chipotle on the corner and he opened the door.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;I wasted a good outfit.&amp;nbsp; I hope I don't see anyone so&amp;nbsp;I can wear this dress this weekend.&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; He saw the look on my face and said "I picked this place because I heard how much you loved it."&amp;nbsp; I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had given it up since I was trying to lose weight.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;would make an exception.&amp;nbsp; We ordered and as he was paying he suggested we get a few beers.&amp;nbsp; We ordered a few beers sat down at one of the wooden booths and got to chatting.&amp;nbsp; He casually mentioned a surgery he had due to an old&amp;nbsp;sports injury.&amp;nbsp; As we were finishing up, he asked if I wanted to stay and keep drinking.&amp;nbsp; I was enjoying the conversation so I agreed and he went up to the counter and ordered 4 more beers.&amp;nbsp; I was nursing my current beer at the time and didn't think I'd be drinking more than two.&amp;nbsp; Plus I didn't even think this guy drank so I was pretty surprised when he came back with two more for each of us.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the conversation progressed and he finished his two beers,&amp;nbsp;I realized he was getting&amp;nbsp;very loud and loopy.&amp;nbsp; I knew I wasn't going to finish my&amp;nbsp;beer so I gave it to him.&amp;nbsp; Bad&amp;nbsp;decision.&amp;nbsp; After 20 more minutes passed his words were slurring and he was really giggly and touchy.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I asked him if he was alright and he said that he was fine.&amp;nbsp; We kept on talking but I couldn't tell if I was the drunk one or if he was really that messed up after&amp;nbsp;four beers.&amp;nbsp; I started wrapping up the conversation and got up to throw away our food when I saw him wobbling as he stood up.&amp;nbsp; When I walked over to him he turned around and I could see that his eyes were a bit glassy and he had that "I'm wasted" look on his face.&amp;nbsp; You know the look, where your squinty eyes and raised eye lids are desperatly trying to keep your eyebrows from falling down your face.&amp;nbsp; I jokingly said "I think you roofied yourself instead of me."&amp;nbsp; He looked shocked, then said "Oh god I didn't think the codine would be this strong."&amp;nbsp; An alarm went off in my head.&amp;nbsp; I had recently had a girlfriend who had taken a muscle relaxant and/or pain medication and threw up violently&amp;nbsp;in my apartment after only a few drinks.&amp;nbsp; I don't think he could tell I was worried but I was getting that sinking feeling.&amp;nbsp; I went into a mom mode and asked what he took.&amp;nbsp; He rattled off some pill names that I didn't recognize except for hydrocodone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Luckily I knew he lived close by so I held out my hand and&amp;nbsp;helped him stand.&amp;nbsp; He ended up resting his lanky 6'2 frame on my shoulder.&amp;nbsp; The employees at Chipotle and the other diners were staring at me and I shook him a bit.&amp;nbsp; His eyes perked up and he started a string of apologies.&amp;nbsp; As we walked outside I told him that he couldn't drive his scooter.&amp;nbsp; Luckily he didn't fight me but he did try&amp;nbsp;to walk on his own and after one step his equilibrium sent him tumbling into a parked car.&amp;nbsp; To our luck an officer was across the street and came over to investigate what was happening.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The officer and his partner walked over and started interogating Buddy.&amp;nbsp; "What were you two doing tonight?"&amp;nbsp; His response "dayyyyyte" followed by chuckling.&amp;nbsp; After three questions I figured they were going to write him up for public intoxication so I interupted and said "Look he had surgery and whatever he took is not going well with the&amp;nbsp;three beers he had tonight, this has been a nightmare of a date, can I please just take him to his house."&amp;nbsp; The officers looked at me and said "Three beers?"&amp;nbsp; I'm assuming they were thinking I drugged him.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Buddy said "yeah and I never drink."&amp;nbsp; They asked me where he lived and I told them it was 4 blocks away.&amp;nbsp; Buddy&amp;nbsp;was leaning against the car he fell into and he put his index&amp;nbsp;finger up to my face and said "Shhhhh".&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The officers looked at me and asked if I would be ok taking him home.&amp;nbsp; In retrospect I probably should have&amp;nbsp;asked them to help me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We walked the blocks to his house and I had to sit him on the step to his extremely nice walk-up while I opened the door.&amp;nbsp; As we walked in I realized that he had a 3 or 4 story level home and I would more than likely have to get him up more stairs.&amp;nbsp; Getting him up there was pretty humerous and we sat on the 2nd floor laughing since he was so dizzy.&amp;nbsp; When we finally got to his room I sat him on the edge of the bed and helped him take off his shoes.&amp;nbsp; He kept apologizing and laughing at how funny this all was.&amp;nbsp; I felt bad for him because I could tell he was a bit embarassed, before I left I went downstairs to get him some water.&amp;nbsp; As I was making him finish the water and saying bye he shot up and said "Oh damn my scooter!"&amp;nbsp; He asked if I would bring it back to his place.&amp;nbsp; I said I would make sure to move it so it wouldn't get towed but&amp;nbsp;I would be taking&amp;nbsp;it to my building and he could come by&amp;nbsp;to get&amp;nbsp;it the next day.&amp;nbsp; He apologized and I made the walk back to Chipotle and to his scooter.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I set out back the way I came and weighed my options.&amp;nbsp; I could try and drive the scooter home, or I could call someone.&amp;nbsp; I decided that watching Buddy drive did not qualify me as a scooter driver so I had to call someone to help me.&amp;nbsp; While walking&amp;nbsp;I looked through my phone for someone who would possibly be awake and close by.&amp;nbsp; I almost called Chad who lived 1 block away but I figured it would be weird telling someone I formerly dated to help me take home a scooter of someone I went on a date with.&amp;nbsp; I settled for my married neighbor, Sam.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I tried to be brief but in his questioning I ended up telling him the entire story of how I came to be in posession of a scooter.&amp;nbsp; It took about 2 solid minutes for him to stop laughing.&amp;nbsp; Luckily he got out of bed and came to help me.&amp;nbsp; When he arrived he walked up to give me a hug and said "Wow, you look really nice for Chipotle.&amp;nbsp; And I can't believe you still smell like a burrito."&amp;nbsp; I responded with, "I think it's the smell of sadness."&amp;nbsp; We both ended up breaking out into laughter and I showed him how to start the scooter and we set off for our building.&amp;nbsp; He made me wear the helmet despite my protests.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We were able to park the scooter in my building's garage and since the valet guys found my story and my post helmet hair so entertaining they didn't charge me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-5636714036344195161?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Hdlt67nnEO65NEaZpoRZaqWJD1s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Hdlt67nnEO65NEaZpoRZaqWJD1s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/NfwMA24IoOk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/5636714036344195161/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/09/great-burrito-date.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5636714036344195161?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5636714036344195161?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/NfwMA24IoOk/great-burrito-date.html" title="The Great Burrito Date" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TKTxVqmk_8I/AAAAAAAAAEc/SMvnFOzAox0/s72-c/chipotle.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.850033 -87.6500523</georss:point><georss:box>41.59429050000001 -88.1169713 42.1057755 -87.1831333</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/09/great-burrito-date.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQHRXc9cCp7ImA9Wx5WFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-1032778666803021872</id><published>2010-09-27T11:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T11:02:14.968-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-27T11:02:14.968-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Joke" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hearing Aid" /><title>I was punk'd by a deaf man!</title><content type="html">Today I woke up at about 6:50am after pressing snooze for 45min.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;At 6:54 I got a call from my doorman downstairs saying "Hey Clara, your co-worker Joan is here to pick you up, he's outside waiting." I responded with "Ok great, tell him I'll be down in 5min."&amp;nbsp; I was like WHAT?! I had completly forgot he would be here at 7am to take me to Hoffman Estates for a walk through of an event we are both working on. I literally got dressed in 4min, brushed my hair, put on minimal make-up and packed a banana for breakfast. When I got to downstairs my co-worker said "Wow you look very nice." I feel like crap since I didn't get to shower. I was going to try and rinse off but figured it wasn't a good idea on time. I just ran out and hoped I didn't smell.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Acoustitone-MAX-Hearing-Aid-Single/dp/B002TS8710?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20&amp;amp;link_code=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Acoustitone MAX Hearing Aid (Single)" src="http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&amp;amp;ServiceVersion=20070822&amp;amp;ID=AsinImage&amp;amp;WS=1&amp;amp;Format=_SL160_&amp;amp;ASIN=B002TS8710&amp;amp;tag=thee0b-20" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then the real fun part happened. We had to go to meet our event coordinator Joe.&amp;nbsp; Joe is&amp;nbsp;hearing impaired. I think we spoke for about 20min about Marley Matlin the deaf actress. He's in love with her. Anyway he kept saying "Huh" and "what" so I kept speaking louder to help him out while telling&amp;nbsp;him how I wanted each room to look and what he had to move in or out. Two other people showed up and kept giving me dirty looks because I was shouting.&amp;nbsp; After being there for 30min I decided I had to say something. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B002TS8710" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px! important; padding-left: 0px! important; padding-right: 0px! important; padding-top: 0px! important;" width="1" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;So I said "Look Joe you're going to have to turn up your hearing aid, people think i'm verbally abusing you."&amp;nbsp;Joe turns to me with a sly grin and says "Oh I just like doing that to people who make me work hard, I can actually hear you pretty well and you are the easiest person to lip read." The man is hilarious and I have to give him credit for playing a pretty good joke on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-1032778666803021872?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RlRXYK0uggZ1vBGUBzBFe2Qk7Hk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RlRXYK0uggZ1vBGUBzBFe2Qk7Hk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/1khyDAcm3cA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/1032778666803021872/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-was-punkd-by-deaf-man.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/1032778666803021872?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/1032778666803021872?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/1khyDAcm3cA/i-was-punkd-by-deaf-man.html" title="I was punk'd by a deaf man!" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Hoffman Estates, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>42.0428051 -88.079795</georss:point><georss:box>41.9153226 -88.3132545 42.1702876 -87.84633550000001</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-was-punkd-by-deaf-man.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IER3w6eCp7ImA9Wx5QGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-2000148922129487118</id><published>2010-09-07T23:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T23:51:46.210-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-07T23:51:46.210-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sol" /><title>Sol Part 2:  The Letter</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;If you read "Sol Part 1"&amp;nbsp;you know that on most Tuesdays or at least  3-5 days out of the month I spend an&amp;nbsp;evening with my neighbor&amp;nbsp;Sol.&amp;nbsp; In  the time I have known him he has turned into a  mentor/grandpa/abba/friend all rolled into a 5'7 pudgy, crotchety,  wrinkly, hard of hearing 80yr old man.&amp;nbsp; And yes he read that description  before I wrote it.&amp;nbsp; He asked that I include that 30yrs ago he was still quite  the charmer.&amp;nbsp; I beg to differ, he is still quite the charmer.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;During  one of our first evenings out he asked me "Why are you out to dinner  with me?&amp;nbsp; Don't you have a boyfriend?"&amp;nbsp; I sassily said "I do not have a  boyfriend, but I don't think I'm ready to date an 80yr old yet."&amp;nbsp; I  often use humor to avoid answering questions that make me uncomfortable but it didn't work. He  continued down the same line of questioning "You're a smart ass.&amp;nbsp; What's  wrong with you?&amp;nbsp; I was married by your age.&amp;nbsp; And ready to have kids.&amp;nbsp; What are you doing with your spare time?"&amp;nbsp; I  laughed and said "Well Obviously...God wants me to have more fun as a single person  than he did you."&amp;nbsp; This is how our relationship goes.&amp;nbsp; One snide  comment deserves another.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THtEq8r1brI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/q9RzrxhRMp8/s1600/photo%283%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THtEq8r1brI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/q9RzrxhRMp8/s320/photo%283%29.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me Chasing Sol Down&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;On our walks he has given me advice on my career (Turns out he was a  very successful Banker in his time), he has helped me pick out  furniture "Don't spend your money on that, I'll just give you my sofa I  only use my recliner anyway", advice on family, along with plenty of dating advice.&amp;nbsp; I could tell a dozen Sol stories but it  would require an entire book.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have lived in my new building&amp;nbsp;a little  longer than a year&amp;nbsp;and out of that year about&amp;nbsp;8 of those months were  spent getting to know this old guy.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure if he has benefited  from knowing me but I can tell you that he knows about the Bravo Real  Housewives Series, he is a fan of the bachelor, he reads my old  People Magazines, he's been to more movies this year than his entire  life combined, he says things like 'I'm jazzed', he traveled to California, loves wine tastings, and he  likes to eat out at nicer restaurants (read: places that don't have a $1 menu or scratchy voiced waitresses  named Flo) now.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn't realize how much I appreciated this relationship until he  had several mini-strokes early in the morning&amp;nbsp;at the start of Memorial  Day Weekend.&amp;nbsp; Fortunately he was found by a neighbor, Barbara.&amp;nbsp; At 3pm on Thursday I  got a call from a doctor at Northwestern stating that my friend was in  the hospital and they needed a family member at the hospital.&amp;nbsp; They  couldn't get in touch with his Son who lives in the suburbs so I was taxed with getting in touch with his son or heading down there myself.&amp;nbsp; I left work and headed over.&amp;nbsp; I got there 10minutes after the call  but I had to sit down and mentally prepare myself to see him.&amp;nbsp; I'm not  good in hospitals, somehow when I see sick people it feels like I'm absorbing  their pain and it hurts my entire body to be near them.&amp;nbsp; I was also  afraid he was about to die.&amp;nbsp; After 30minutes of shaking it off I walked  into his room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I walked to the nearest nurse to ask her where he was located.&amp;nbsp; She took me over to an office and asked me how I was related to him.&amp;nbsp; I explained that his doctor called me because they were unable to get in touch with his son.&amp;nbsp; She looked at his chart and said "What is your relation to him?" and I said "Well I'm like a granddaughter I guess."&amp;nbsp; She looked at me with questioning eyes and I looked at her back with "what the hell lady" eyes.&amp;nbsp; She said "Oh he just said that his girlfriend would be coming in."&amp;nbsp; I'm sure I turned every shade of red and just couldn't help but rolling my eyes.&amp;nbsp; I had a feeling he wasn't in such bad shape after all.&amp;nbsp; She led me to his room and said "Just be patient with him he's struggling to speak a bit but his symptoms could go away as soon as 24hrs so he needs to try and work at it.&amp;nbsp; He gets frustrated very easily."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was hooked up to a monitor and looked like he was asleep but as  soon as I stepped I heard the mechanical raising of the hospital bed.&amp;nbsp;  He slurred the words "Wha slooooook so long?"&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My scrunched up worry face  turned into a smile.&amp;nbsp;I said "Well why did they call me if you were  fine?"&amp;nbsp; He wrote on a piece of paper that Barbara had come to find him  around 7am because he had not met her downstairs.&amp;nbsp; I told him to try to  speak so he could practice.&amp;nbsp; He tried to eek out the words that he was trying to reach for the phone when everything blacked out.&amp;nbsp; I was very sad  that he was having trouble speaking but he needed to exercise those  muscles so as he started to write I took away his paper and pen.&amp;nbsp; He made the international "I am going to slit your throat" sign and reached for the pen and paper.&amp;nbsp; I pulled it out of his reach.&amp;nbsp; He was  so frustrated he was slurring words I didn't even understand and I'm sure cursing at me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prior to his strokes we had a long conversation about relationships.&amp;nbsp;  Sol is 80 and has a few broken relationships with close family  members.&amp;nbsp; I asked him why he didn't apologize, and tell them how he really felt.&amp;nbsp; He  got very upset and I told him that he should write a letter to those  people if he felt he could not face them.&amp;nbsp; He laughed at me and said  that people didn't care anymore.&amp;nbsp; We had a roundabout discussion for another  hour about how important it is to tell people before you die because  everyone loves to hear that they are loved regardless if they care for  that person in return.&amp;nbsp; His response "You just love hearing about how  much people love you."&amp;nbsp; Which is true, so I said "I'm sure if people  told you more often how much they love you, you'd be less grouchy."&amp;nbsp; He  finally agreed with me but only because it was getting close to his bed  time and I was wearing him out.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After visiting hours were over he asked me to go into his apartment  and shut some things off.&amp;nbsp; I said I would do so, then he said "Can lew mail muh levvers in the entry way.&amp;nbsp; And look  on duusk for envelope wis jur nayme lon it."&amp;nbsp; I asked him what it  was and he said that it was something important he wanted to tell me.&amp;nbsp; He added,  "You nosey, jooo wouulve read eh-neway."&amp;nbsp; This is also true.&amp;nbsp; I went back to his apartment  and found this half written letter which he gave me permission to put on my blog minus one paragraph...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;Dearest Clara Ann,&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;After our conversation last night I realized that I should take  your advice.&amp;nbsp; Very funny right?&amp;nbsp; Take the advice of a 27yr old.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I have  been on this earth for 80yrs and I didn't start living until I met you.&amp;nbsp;  I lived early in my life but I died when my wife died. I&amp;nbsp;was just  waiting around until I could see her again.&amp;nbsp; Last night you said "Why  wait until you die?&amp;nbsp; Why not just tell them now?"&amp;nbsp; I am sure that you just wanted to know if you were going to  get a letter.&amp;nbsp; You have the longest letter and I have known you the  shortest time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You have been a force of life and you have changed an old man who  was very set in his ways.&amp;nbsp; I was ready to die and be with my wife and  then miss loud talking lady moved onto our peaceful floor.&amp;nbsp; When I&amp;nbsp;first  spoke to&amp;nbsp;you there was a genuine care and you did not know me.&amp;nbsp; You  remembered little things I said in passing, and then you invited me for a  walk.&amp;nbsp; I don't know why you would want to walk&amp;nbsp;with a grouchy old man  but you found my&amp;nbsp;attitude endearing rather than off putting like most  people do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the months that I have come to know you I know that for a 27yr  old you have more wisdom and understanding than I ever had.&amp;nbsp; You  understand that life is to be made to the fullest.&amp;nbsp; And though you are  very willing to share your stories of travels, many accidents, and  people you meet. You rarely speak of yourself that would allow people to  see into you.&amp;nbsp; You have a very heavy guard.&amp;nbsp; It took you 7 months to tell me  the story of why you moved here.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You had your heart broken in the very  worst of ways and I never would have known.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You kept a smile on your  face and you listened to me talk for 7months&amp;nbsp;and you never shared this!&amp;nbsp;  I was depressed for almost 4yrs after my wife died.&amp;nbsp; I know you say  that 4yrs and 60 are not the same but the love is the same.&amp;nbsp; You love  someone and when they are gone you cannot &lt;i&gt;[he didn't finish]&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;You will find love some day, I know you are not in any rush but I do  hope that you hurry a little I would like to be alive to meet the man  you choose to fall in love with.&amp;nbsp; I do mean choose.&amp;nbsp; So many people love  you and you need to pick a special man who will appreciate your gifts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You have many gifts.&amp;nbsp; The gift of leadership.&amp;nbsp; Even I want to  follow you and do what you do.&amp;nbsp; I say things like "I am jazzed" or "We  must live it up" and my favorite "retard"&amp;nbsp;and my friends wonder why I talk  like this now.&amp;nbsp; You have the gift of acceptance.&amp;nbsp; I had never met a gay  man and now I am friends with 2 of them and I'm not afraid they will try  and come after me.&amp;nbsp; I may be 80 but I still have got it.&amp;nbsp; You also were  accepting of the fact that I wanted you to convert.&amp;nbsp; You said something  I have repeated many times.&amp;nbsp; "I'm so glad you shared your religion with  me.&amp;nbsp; Someone's religion is the single most important thing to them and  for you to want to share that with me means you care deeply about me.&amp;nbsp;  Thank you."&amp;nbsp; Now when people want to share about their religion, I don't  become irritated I thank them!&amp;nbsp; I still&amp;nbsp;would like&amp;nbsp;you to consider  Judiasm.&amp;nbsp; You have the gift of persuasion.&amp;nbsp; I became a "yes" man.&amp;nbsp; I say  yes to the party.&amp;nbsp; And the party is Clara, make no mistake.&amp;nbsp; I have  stayed up later than normal, I go out for wine, I went on a date, I  joined a painting class, I went on a cooking class with you, and I have  traveled to California at my old age.&amp;nbsp; I am living&amp;nbsp;this life&amp;nbsp;up!&amp;nbsp; The  last is the gift of honesty.&amp;nbsp; This is why people follow you, you are who  you are and make no mistake it's an incredible woman that you are.&amp;nbsp; You  are not afraid to say things that others are.&amp;nbsp; You tell me that I am  going to die and I need to make the most of the years I have left.&amp;nbsp; You  tell me when I am rude or being "crotchety."&amp;nbsp; You should not use that  word anymore it's terrible.&amp;nbsp; You have no fear of the truth, especially  when it is not nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dear friend I write this letter to you because you are special.&amp;nbsp;  Don't go gloating, part of the special is that you have no clue about  it.&amp;nbsp; There are no words to describe the gift you have given me and you  did it all without motive or reason.&amp;nbsp; You just did it because you love  to love and that is truly your greatest gift.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
May you continue to be blessed always.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your old man friend,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;Sol&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of all the things I have ever received in my life this has been the most touching present.&amp;nbsp; Don't waste time in telling people how much they mean to you.&amp;nbsp; This letter means more than words could ever express and I know if I am ever having a rough day I can read this and get a jolt of love.&amp;nbsp; I am so very thankful for this letter but even more appreciative of my unexpected friendship with Sol.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sadly, Sol is no longer my neighbor and he has moved into the  suburbs to be close to his son in a retirement facility West of Chicago.&amp;nbsp;  Although he hates technology he now has a cell phone and calls me at  least once a week to tell me stories about his plans of breaking  out.&amp;nbsp; He gives me whispering instructions like, "Listen to me!&amp;nbsp; Just be here at 3pm on Thursday so we can break out of this place and get ice cream or better yet wine."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THmOlmH-qmI/AAAAAAAAADw/dK2IPmZLStg/s1600/sol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THmOlmH-qmI/AAAAAAAAADw/dK2IPmZLStg/s320/sol.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Before I posted this I asked his permission since this was such a personal letter.&amp;nbsp; His response, "I would be honored.&amp;nbsp; Plus you probably already shared with people."&amp;nbsp; When I was taking too long to post it his next comment was "Will you write about me before I die please, I need to show people here that I made it onto the computer screen."&amp;nbsp; I made a second request, "Sol, I want a photo of us to attach it to the blog post."&amp;nbsp; He said that I could take a photo with him but I was not allowed  to publish it since he doesn't look his usual "handsome" self.&amp;nbsp; So instead here is the next best thing...I love you Sol!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-2000148922129487118?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IwOwnd4h_WAdLFgVQLN-Gcw2Cvk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IwOwnd4h_WAdLFgVQLN-Gcw2Cvk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/ghBXd5cxhBw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/2000148922129487118/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/09/sol-part-2-letter.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/2000148922129487118?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/2000148922129487118?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/ghBXd5cxhBw/sol-part-2-letter.html" title="Sol Part 2:  The Letter" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THtEq8r1brI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/q9RzrxhRMp8/s72-c/photo%283%29.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/09/sol-part-2-letter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMFQng_eyp7ImA9Wx5QFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-5305300843504009016</id><published>2010-09-02T20:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T20:46:53.643-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-02T20:46:53.643-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prayer" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rob" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Flights" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sonja" /><title>Adventures in Shopping</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;My friend Rob, who is also my running partner, was in need of a  gift for his "muh lady friend."&amp;nbsp; I don't exactly know how this nickname  came about but the guys are convinced I came up with it since I also  call Judy (Sam's wife) Judy booty.&amp;nbsp; And sometimes I call her JCB "Judy  Cutie Booty."&amp;nbsp; I'm big on nicknames and if you have met me then chances  are that you have one.&amp;nbsp; It helps me remember names, of course I have to  hear the name correctly at first for this trick to work.&amp;nbsp; However, this trick can backfire if you can't remember the name and just the nickname which happened at camp when I gave Randy the nickname "Beef Cake."&amp;nbsp; So much for that memory game.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway back to the story.&amp;nbsp; So I agreed to help Rob as long as he  went with me to try on dresses for an upcoming event.&amp;nbsp; So  as we were looking at the watches and jewelry and discussing what an  acceptable price range for a gift would be I hear my name being called  in a strong Spanish accent.&amp;nbsp; I immediately look around for my grandma&amp;nbsp;who  is&amp;nbsp;5'1&amp;nbsp;with curly reddish blond hair, normally seen in a gold track suit,&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;enough  bling to be a human disco ball.&amp;nbsp; However, Grandma Connie is no where to be found.&amp;nbsp; But there  is another woman with bright red hair shouting "CL-AH-DAH" (that's how you pronounce Clara in  Spanish) over and over. I look over at Rob who has turned away from the  sales woman and is watching wide eyed as this tiny woman bolted over to  me.&amp;nbsp; I have no idea who this woman is!&amp;nbsp; She is about 5'0 with her heels on, but her spirit felt like a QB with a defensive player running towards me.&amp;nbsp; When Rob and I talked about this later he said "I think you're confusing her spirit with the 1/3 bottle of cologne she had on."&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm smiling nervously and she slowed her trot down to a confused walk.&amp;nbsp; Then she tilts her head to her shoulder and says  in Spanish "Do you remember me?" I start jogging my memory.&amp;nbsp; She was so excited to see me and now she looks really confused so I said in Spanish "You know, I do remember you a little."&amp;nbsp; Rob squeezes my shoulder.&amp;nbsp; He has no idea what is being said because he doesn't speak Spanish, but I think he's getting the idea of the conversation.&amp;nbsp; "Well ummm."&amp;nbsp; And she  says "It's me&amp;nbsp;Sonya from your flight to Tejas las jear."&amp;nbsp; I fly to  Texas pretty often to see family and because I'm chatty I talk to probably 2 people each leg of flights that I am on.&amp;nbsp; So the mental Rolodex of people I have spoken to was pretty long.&amp;nbsp; Then she says "You predicted my future and prayed for me."&amp;nbsp; Then under his breath I hear Ron say  "Oh Dear God." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The picture of her former self and our conversation started to come back to me.&amp;nbsp; I did remember her!&amp;nbsp; She was on the  flight from ORD to DFW, was about 80lbs heavier, and she could hardly fit  into the seat.&amp;nbsp; She was so upset when the stewardess told her in a snippy tone that she  would need an extender for her seat belt.&amp;nbsp; She kept apologizing  and not knowing what to say I said "Don't worry, you're fine. These seats are tiny."&amp;nbsp; And she  pet my hand and said "Thank you."&amp;nbsp;  This opened up introductions and the reason for travel.&amp;nbsp; I don't remember in detail what we talked about but I remember feeling awful and in my mind the thought bubble "How can you help her?" popped up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So back to Nordstrom.&amp;nbsp; I introduce Rob to my now petite friend and I lean over to tell him "We met on a flight to  Tex...."&amp;nbsp; Before I can finish she jumps into the conversation with her Spanish accent&amp;nbsp;"Jes and I  talk her about my deh-borce and she says to me 'Sonya you can do  it! Get Goals.'&amp;nbsp; Pray hard and work hard for de life jew want!"&amp;nbsp; After her story she hugs me and says "I hab company of cleaning ladies  now!&amp;nbsp; I have a company Clah-dah!!"&amp;nbsp; She can't seem to stop squeezing me and she even grabs my hand as we're talking and pets it.&amp;nbsp; After a few minutes of catching up Rob and I politely excused ourselves.&amp;nbsp; As we are leaving Sonya says to Rob&amp;nbsp; "Dees girl is real  eh-special my friend!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rob looks at her and says...."Trust me I know.&amp;nbsp; We met on a bus."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-5305300843504009016?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qYc0OBq97B6a775lKq9juRrM4sQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qYc0OBq97B6a775lKq9juRrM4sQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/qYRKZlMtkT8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/5305300843504009016/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/09/adventures-in-shopping.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5305300843504009016?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/5305300843504009016?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/qYRKZlMtkT8/adventures-in-shopping.html" title="Adventures in Shopping" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/09/adventures-in-shopping.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcAR3w8eyp7ImA9Wx5QEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-2007224945287216465</id><published>2010-08-30T13:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T13:14:06.273-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-30T13:14:06.273-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="scamp" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dreamy Derek" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="police" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="NYC Trip" /><title>The Great scamp NYC Trip &amp; The Midtown North Precinct</title><content type="html">As some of you know I was a part of a focus group for Microsoft's KIN phone.&amp;nbsp; When I first started this focus group I thought it was a bit of a hoax.&amp;nbsp; We talked about phones and made suggestions but we never knew what we were really working on.&amp;nbsp; Until one day our Project Coordinator sent us an email stating that they would be in town and wanted to take us for a drink.&amp;nbsp; I was really busy that week and was almost planning on ditching but I had two friends that needed to go out for a drink so I suggested we head over to The Wit and check it out.&amp;nbsp; So glad I did, because I met scamp!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THs-VpSNH4I/AAAAAAAAAEA/SqzMVc8iau4/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THs-VpSNH4I/AAAAAAAAAEA/SqzMVc8iau4/s400/006.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;You know how there are some people you meet and just bond with instantly?&amp;nbsp; Well this is how I felt when I met scamp.&amp;nbsp; I told some fun stories, asked questions, and possibly made fun of the idiot who invited 10 other people along with him to the private event.&amp;nbsp; scamp and I could talk about everything except what she did for work and who&amp;nbsp;employed her which honestly made me 10x's more interested in getting clues out of her.&amp;nbsp; She ended up adding me on to the Ambassador list and I was able to go out to dinner with them the following night at Proseco.&amp;nbsp; We had a blast despite the fact that I spilled proseco all over scamp while making wild hand gestures.&amp;nbsp; The dinner was pretty eventful in itself, all of the Ambassadors shared their similar feelings of disbelief in the project.&amp;nbsp; The other two ambassadors were Tyler who was a guy from a small town just excited about technology and very confused about the buffalo on the menu.&amp;nbsp; Nina was unintentionally hysterical and can be summed up in one phrase, The perky blond.&amp;nbsp; scamp asked Nina, why she flew out from Ohio if she was so skeptical and under the assumption that she probably was going to get her kidney's stolen in the middle of the night.&amp;nbsp; Nina's eyes searched the ceiling for the proper answer then shrugged and responded nonchalantly, "Well my kidney's aren't that great anyway."&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We had so much fun those two days that I was deeply disappointed when I found out I was going to miss scamp's May trip to Chicago for a private KIN concert.&amp;nbsp; She was equally disappointed and so she pulled some strings and requested I be flown out for the NYC Concerts.&amp;nbsp; It worked out perfectly and I flew out to meet her three weeks later.&amp;nbsp; I had no idea what was going to happen on this trip other than we were going to dinner Saturday night before going to see The Ting Ting's at an undisclosed location.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is no way that I could have imagined a more random and fun trip to the Big Apple.&amp;nbsp; I got to the W in Midtown&amp;nbsp;just as scamp and Brendan were headed out for a shopping trip in the meatpacking district.&amp;nbsp; I checked in and rushed up to my room to change into more comfy clothes and head out.&amp;nbsp; After 2minutes of introductions we were all chatting away about the concert that night, people on the street, and clothes.&amp;nbsp; Brendan had to go back and set up so he left scamp and I to wander around.&amp;nbsp; She was on the hunt for comfy shoes and on our walk/subway ride&amp;nbsp;to 5th Ave area of town we encountered some interesting people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was an old creepy woman who leaned towards us and snapped her over sized dentures shut as she walked passed us.&amp;nbsp; She looked like she was about to take my earring off with her incisors.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the Subway a normal athletic looking&amp;nbsp;woman had about&amp;nbsp;5 black gallon&amp;nbsp;trashbags.&amp;nbsp;Four looked pretty fluffy and the other looked like there was a dead body inside.&amp;nbsp; It was holding something soggy and definitely wet because of the squishing noises it was making as she slapped it all over the floor.&amp;nbsp; Watching her walk up the steps made me pretty anxious, her weight was not even 1/16th of the weight she seemed to be lugging around. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the Subway car we were standing close to a woman who didn't seem to grasp the concept of "don't lean on the doors" and she also underestimated the need to hang on to something.&amp;nbsp; She was flying all over the place and running into people one car away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After our shopping trip we had about 1hr to rush back to Midtown and get dressed up for the concert and make it to dinner on time.&amp;nbsp; We were running into the hotel in quite a hurry.&amp;nbsp; In our haste we passed right by some of scamp's co-workers who asked her what the plan was for the evening.&amp;nbsp; I know I smelled like sweat, dirt, and American Airlines leather seats  at this point in the day.&amp;nbsp; We backtracked to talk to them and I was pretty shocked to see Dreamy Derek, a guy I had recently become friends with on Facebook at the suggestion of scamp.&amp;nbsp; He had a Bradly Cooper coif going on with his hair, his eyes look like crystal&amp;nbsp;blue pools,&amp;nbsp;and his smile would make any girl turn bright red.&amp;nbsp; We did introductions and I was cringing inside trying to look away and counting down the getting dressed minutes I was forgoing standing here.&amp;nbsp; We decided to meet in the lobby in 20min.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;WHAT?!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt; I had to mentally rush through all the options I had in my bag while I was rinsing off the NYC street smell.&amp;nbsp; I picked an outfit and ran downstairs.&amp;nbsp; Even though I made it out in record time I was still about 7min late ok maybe 10.&amp;nbsp; We went to dinner at a fabulous sushi restaurant, Jewel Bako in the East Village.&amp;nbsp; At the dinner party was scamp, Dreamy Derek, and Maxi.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure how it started, considering I wasn't drinking at any point before this moment, but I started to jokingly talk in a Mexican accent, imitating Gloria from Modern Family.&amp;nbsp; Trust me, I do weird things when I'm nervous and there is silence to be filled.&amp;nbsp; When we finished dinner Max-a-million, scamp, and I went off to the Ting Ting's concert and Derek went to The Black Key's.&amp;nbsp; I have to say I was pretty giddy when he sent me a text saying "See you at the Black Keys."&amp;nbsp; I knew I was going to be impatient for this concert to be over the moment we walked in.&amp;nbsp; To distract myself from being an over texter Max and scamp suggested that I put my fake Mexican accent to work on Max's friend Devlin.&amp;nbsp; There was no way I could keep that going and I kept slipping up and Devlin eventually pulled Max aside and said "She looks Mexican but I don't think that's her real accent!&amp;nbsp; She is conning you guys."&amp;nbsp; The joke was on him but I still turned red.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THs-cswu97I/AAAAAAAAAEE/g9Z5pAcG8B0/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THs-cswu97I/AAAAAAAAAEE/g9Z5pAcG8B0/s200/011.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The concerts were amazing and the list of celebs in attendance was pretty ridiculous.&amp;nbsp; After a long long night of celebrity sightings and shimmy shaking we all made it home.&amp;nbsp; The following day I called scamp when I woke to see how she was feeling and she invited me to Starbucks to snack n' chat.&amp;nbsp; We sat on the steps of a Catholic church and she told me about her adventure back to the hotel.&amp;nbsp; When scamp got home she left her tiny wallet in the cab and managed to walk out with only her company credit card.&amp;nbsp; Not good when you need your photo ID for the flight home.&amp;nbsp; The cab company is supposed to drop all lost articles at the police station.&amp;nbsp; So she asked me to go with her to the Midtown Police Station to file a report.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we walked into the police station they had just made an arrest.&amp;nbsp; A man tried running off with a handful of candy and snickers bars from a store.&amp;nbsp; Mind you the store happened to be across the street from the police station.&amp;nbsp; When we walked in a tall giant of a police officer said "What can we do fuh ya ladies?"&amp;nbsp; scamp repeated her story and he told us to take a seat while they dealt with the thief who was now so nervous and upset he had given himself an uncontrollable nose bleed.&amp;nbsp; "Oh come on man!" was heard in the background as we tried to sneak peaks over our shoulders.&amp;nbsp; You could tell the police officers were pretty glad two well dressed ladies walked in and just needed a simple report filled out since they were starting to gather and tease us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We sat down with one officer and two others came over to see what was happening.&amp;nbsp; They asked us where we went last night, what we were doing, how her wallet was stolen etc. etc. etc.&amp;nbsp; Then one of the police officers came over and I couldn't help but ask questions about the arrest.&amp;nbsp; He told me that they were lucky it was just a nose bleed and not a "piss your pants situation."&amp;nbsp; Both of our jaws dropped and he says "What you two nevah pissed yo pants?"&amp;nbsp; Both of us muttered "uhh no.&amp;nbsp; gross."&amp;nbsp; The police officer Mike who sounded like he was from Long Island says "I don't believe you two!&amp;nbsp; Er-re-body pee's dah pants sometimes."&amp;nbsp; We both are nervously laughing then he starts running through the questions on the list.&amp;nbsp; "What city do you live in?"&amp;nbsp; Officer Mike asked, after scamp responded he looks at me and says "And you?"&amp;nbsp; I'm confused why do I have to respond?&amp;nbsp; I say "I'm living in Chicago."&amp;nbsp; This brings on a million questions about how we know each other, what we do for a living, and if we need a kept man.&amp;nbsp; We somehow end up talking about the KIN and trying to sell them one.&amp;nbsp; It didn't work they were a bit more interested in getting more information out of us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Where did you lose the property?" then the kicker question "Are you in a gang?"&amp;nbsp; We both erupted laughing and Officer Mike says "What?!" We say "Are you serious?"&amp;nbsp; We start joking back that we're in the JCrew gang, and the cupcake posse.&amp;nbsp; When we look at the report it really does say "Gang?" then the next question was "Do you have any tattoos?"&amp;nbsp; The guys are openly flirting now and asking us when we are going to come back to NYC. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The guys are laughing and we're having a good time.&amp;nbsp; Then the large tower of an officer walks over and says "Aeeee Steph-a-nee the perp left you a message."&amp;nbsp; He slides over a piece of paper and under his arrest report it says "Call me Stephanie..."&amp;nbsp; It was just a copy of the real report but it was hilarious because for a second we weren't sure what was going on.&amp;nbsp; The confused and shocked looks on our faces prompted them to tell us that they were joking.&amp;nbsp; We left the precinct in good spirits because Officer Mike and scamp had bonded so well that he felt the need to call his 2nd cousin, Frankie, who works for homeland security. Officer Mike gave scamp his cousins phone number just in case any "situations" came up when she tried to board her flight.&amp;nbsp; Luckily her Costco Card got her through security and she didn't have to make the call to Frankie.&amp;nbsp; She did however have to call her Fiance and explain the insanity that occurred in the last 24hrs.&amp;nbsp; I can't wait for my next encounter with scamp!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-2007224945287216465?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hDH49WDH4IuCl1TRJPy3FBwCcoo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hDH49WDH4IuCl1TRJPy3FBwCcoo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/gtZbb04fJh0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/2007224945287216465/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/08/great-scamp-nyc-trip-midtown-north.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/2007224945287216465?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/2007224945287216465?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/gtZbb04fJh0/great-scamp-nyc-trip-midtown-north.html" title="The Great scamp NYC Trip &amp; The Midtown North Precinct" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THs-VpSNH4I/AAAAAAAAAEA/SqzMVc8iau4/s72-c/006.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>New York, NY, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>40.7143528 -74.0059731</georss:point><georss:box>40.4541228 -74.47289210000001 40.9745828 -73.5390541</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/08/great-scamp-nyc-trip-midtown-north.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkECQH49eSp7ImA9Wx5RGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-7775902143125317376</id><published>2010-08-26T08:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T08:51:01.061-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-26T08:51:01.061-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Clown" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Flights" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tricks" /><title>The Clown on my Flight</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THZvlQNafnI/AAAAAAAAADs/lZPWaoPfGI8/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THZvlQNafnI/AAAAAAAAADs/lZPWaoPfGI8/s200/002.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Two years ago I was supposed to go to Costa Rica but because of work I had to skip the trip.&amp;nbsp; So in December of '09 I got a message that I had two months to book a flight with my $650 credit.&amp;nbsp; Which was a nightmare in itself.&amp;nbsp; Spirit Airlines has to be the most ridiculous airline I have ever flown.&amp;nbsp; They charge you for everything but oxygen.&amp;nbsp; Don't fly&amp;nbsp;Spirit if you can avoid it.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THZvfd_WOaI/AAAAAAAAADo/B7rcpvDZOv8/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THZvfd_WOaI/AAAAAAAAADo/B7rcpvDZOv8/s200/011.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After about three months of trying to figure out who could go with me to the Bahamas my Dad, my Step-Mom, and my little sister agreed to come with me.&amp;nbsp; I was a bit skeptical because I had not traveled with them since I was in the 8th grade.&amp;nbsp; All in all a successful trip!&amp;nbsp; A few minor annoyances, a room mix up, my dad snores like a train, and my little sister had a teenager 'tude moment.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure that I was really annoying too since I can be pretty bossy.&amp;nbsp; But those tiny things seemed like nothing compared to going Jet Skiing, Swimming with Dolphins, Running into the water at night, getting grillz, and spending time with my little sister.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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The weirdest part of my trip was actually on my way home.&amp;nbsp; There was a mix up in seating and a tall lanky man had to be moved to the middle seat next to me so that a woman and child could sit together.&amp;nbsp; He made a spectacle getting from the middle seat of&amp;nbsp;row 10 to row 9 due entirely to his&amp;nbsp;overstuffed black duffel bag.&amp;nbsp; When the flight attendant said, "Sir would you like me to put that in the overhead bin for you?"&amp;nbsp; He said, "No I want to keep it near me."&amp;nbsp; A man with an affinity for his bag and overly large legs, means zero leg room for me.&amp;nbsp; It was tempting to offer the aisle seat to&amp;nbsp;lanky but the window seat guy was large, irritable, and quite grumpy and I wanted none of that.&lt;br /&gt;
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Lanky took a good 5minutes to get settled in and spent the majority of that time trying to get his black duffel under the tiny Spirit seats.&amp;nbsp; After he was done I let out a slight "whooo" sigh and thus began my conversation with lanky.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He turned and with gusto in his voice said, "I know it's a huge bag!&amp;nbsp; What's your name?" Turns out he was quite the Chatty Guy.&amp;nbsp; He&amp;nbsp;asked me what I did, how my trip was, and regular flight conversation questions. Then I returned the line of questioning but we only got to the first question because he said that he was an animal trainer.&amp;nbsp; Even Grumpy in the window seat was now intrigued and he got into the conversation and into a better attitude.&amp;nbsp; We were asking&amp;nbsp;all kinds of questions about training animals.&amp;nbsp; Then I asked the next logical question, "What kind of animals do you own?"&amp;nbsp; Then Lanky said, "Oh, mainly large animals, I&amp;nbsp;can show you a few small ones."&amp;nbsp; Double take.&amp;nbsp; Did he really just say "show?"&amp;nbsp; I thought there was no way he really said show but&amp;nbsp;he began to huff and puff trying to get the black duffel out.&amp;nbsp; I feel my body temperature rise and I start to panic a little bit.&amp;nbsp; This guy is a bit odd and now he wants to show us his pets?&amp;nbsp; Grumpy tried to tell him it wasn't necessary, I was getting a bit squeamish and said "Maybe we shouldn't do this on a plane."&amp;nbsp; Then I hear some rattling and moving in this box he started to remove from his bag and I'm about to scream.&amp;nbsp; Lanky says "Come on you two where is your sense of adventure?"&amp;nbsp; Grumpy tries to tell him that it is probably against airline policy to have pets on the flight.&amp;nbsp; I unbuckled my seat belt.&amp;nbsp; Grumpy&amp;nbsp;was pressed against the&amp;nbsp;window and was starting to gradually raise his voice as Lanky opened the box!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Snakes exploded out of the box!&amp;nbsp; Colorful fake snakes with springs in them to be exact.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Grumpy shouted like a little kid and I covered my face with my arms.&amp;nbsp; The trick didn't go over well at all.&amp;nbsp; Grumpy&amp;nbsp;was now&amp;nbsp;extra grumpy especially because people were laughing all around us.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure if&amp;nbsp;Lanky really was an animal trainer but he definitely was a clown.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=thee0b-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B0030C1RAM&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;If you want to play this trick on anyone he did let me know you can find these snakes on Amazon.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-7775902143125317376?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aDSwmPvVbVnfEpZP72kWIpRHPpI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aDSwmPvVbVnfEpZP72kWIpRHPpI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/OEb-FXElhHo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/7775902143125317376/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/08/clown-on-my-flight.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/7775902143125317376?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/7775902143125317376?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/OEb-FXElhHo/clown-on-my-flight.html" title="The Clown on my Flight" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THZvlQNafnI/AAAAAAAAADs/lZPWaoPfGI8/s72-c/002.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Nassau, The Bahamas</georss:featurename><georss:point>25.06 -77.345</georss:point><georss:box>24.904497499999998 -77.5784595 25.2155025 -77.1115405</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/08/clown-on-my-flight.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04GQXc6cCp7ImA9Wx5RFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-9066629822474866125</id><published>2010-08-24T14:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-24T14:58:40.918-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-24T14:58:40.918-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Run Club" /><title>Jenny The Jerk</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THQKdTvTrdI/AAAAAAAAADk/ciOzXlD5Rfw/s1600/runclub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THQKdTvTrdI/AAAAAAAAADk/ciOzXlD5Rfw/s200/runclub.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So today was a particularly rough morning.&amp;nbsp; I am a part of a Run Club and I have a tough time participating since it occurs at 5am.&amp;nbsp; It starts at 5:30am but it takes me a good 10min to wrestle with my thoughts on whether or not I have a good reason to skip out.&amp;nbsp; Today I lost the thought match and went.&amp;nbsp; I had not seen everyone in about 3 weeks so we were all catching up before Jerry! got there.&amp;nbsp; Jerry! needs an exclamation point after his name because anything less would not do his outrageously gay personality justice.&amp;nbsp; He shouts "Jerry's Here!" in an almost showtune manner then in singsong says "WHO'S READY TO RUH-UUN!!"&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There are 7 people in the group but I mostly chat with Sam and Ron.&amp;nbsp; Sam lives in my building he is your typical "I ate too much while my wife was pregnant" guy.&amp;nbsp; Very dry British sense of humor and some interesting running quirks.&amp;nbsp; Him and I became good friends earlier in the summer when Run Club started because we were always in last place.&amp;nbsp; Then we became&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;great&lt;/strong&gt; friends when my knee gave out and I accidently de-pantsed him on Lakeshore Drive while trying to grasp for something before I ate pavement.&amp;nbsp; He now runs behind me and his wife tells him to 'wear the good underwear' to go run.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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Ron is a 6'7 African American, former college basketball player who walks while we all run.&amp;nbsp; His legs start where my chest begins.&amp;nbsp; Ron and I met prior to run club, but I told him to join because his girlfriend was trying to lose weight.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She used to shout&amp;nbsp;at him in Spanish and we became friends because I was able to decode what she was saying.&amp;nbsp; She later decided running was not for her.&amp;nbsp; He still comes to run/wak because he's technically supposed to wait on running until he's completed rehab for his busted knee.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure when it's better he'll be in the 7min mile group.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So when I got to Run Club, which is one block away from my apartment, I came up behind everyone and shouted as if I was Jerry!&amp;nbsp; Everyone laughed except for someone I'll call Jenny.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Jenny is&amp;nbsp;awkward, rude, and&amp;nbsp;mean.&amp;nbsp; In our entire class not one person likes her and if you let her speak to you for too long she'll walk away leaving&amp;nbsp;you feeling insecure and uncomfortable.&amp;nbsp; I try to be nice to her since I can tell she just hasn't been "socialized"&amp;nbsp;and lacks social conversational skills.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Jenny usually comes to run club looking like Under Armour threw up on her.&amp;nbsp; Her dyed&amp;nbsp;blond hair is perfectly coifed, she has a full face of make-up, and a variety of designer jewelry on.&amp;nbsp; I on the other hand usually come in wrinkled t-shirts, sports watch, and 'I just woke up' hair.&amp;nbsp; Jenny probably wakes up at 4am to get all dolled up and we have concluded that this might be why she is in a bad mood every morning.&amp;nbsp; Sam believes differently.&amp;nbsp; He said "She's married, she knows that she never has to get another person to like her ever again."&amp;nbsp; We have labeled her Jenny the Jerk because she is rude to everyone but she&amp;nbsp;especially has it out for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not quite sure why she likes to pick on me since I am in a good mood (I'm a morning person), I don't talk to her (No one does)&amp;nbsp;and I look awful (Zero competition for her).&amp;nbsp; She tends to give backhanded compliments like "You look good today for a change."&amp;nbsp; Or she makes snide remarks about what people wear "Wow, Shana with that purple combo we have a stuffed dinosaur leading our&amp;nbsp;group today."&amp;nbsp; She reminds me of my elementery school bully Elizabeth.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Elizabeth hit her growth spurt early so she was about a foot taller than everyone including the boys and was stronger than the Hulk.&amp;nbsp; She used to push me around&amp;nbsp;and call me shrimp.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;One day our teacher called us all out by full name...Elizabeth Ann Townsend.&amp;nbsp; E.A.T.&amp;nbsp; As soon as I&amp;nbsp;worked those initials into a few snarky comments&amp;nbsp;the bullying relationship was flipped and I was able to enjoy eating in the cafeteria and running around on the blacktop with no fear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As our running group was waiting for Jerry!&amp;nbsp;4 of us were catching up and discussing what I had missed out on when Jenny showed up.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She saw us talking and decided she wanted to engage and interupt our conversation.&lt;br /&gt;
"Well Well look who is&amp;nbsp;back.&amp;nbsp; Someone decided to get out of bed...Barely."&lt;br /&gt;
"Yeah, I tried to get as much sleep as possible in before I had to wake up.&amp;nbsp; I'm back in action and ready to run!" I responded as chipper as possible.&amp;nbsp; The good old kill 'em with kindness trick that never seems to work.&lt;br /&gt;
The group picks up where we left of and we continue talking about my trip to the Bahamas.&lt;br /&gt;
Out of left feild comes..."Wow Clara you are such an attention whore...let someone else talk"&lt;br /&gt;
Sam&amp;nbsp;who never speaks up shouted&amp;nbsp;"Woah!&amp;nbsp; We &lt;em&gt;asked her&lt;/em&gt; to tell us about the trip."&lt;br /&gt;
She sniped back&amp;nbsp;"Goodness take a joke Sammy Boy"&amp;nbsp; A nickname I'm sure he&amp;nbsp;dislikes because he rolled his eyes as he was turning away from the creepy intruder.&lt;br /&gt;
I was trying&amp;nbsp;to keep my cool but starting to get a bit irked.&amp;nbsp; "Well I have been gone for 3 weeks...lots to chat about."&amp;nbsp; I choose to turn completely around to avoid any eye contact with her and Ron tries to&amp;nbsp;sneakily box&amp;nbsp;her out of the conversation circle.&amp;nbsp; So awkwardly the three of us are facing Shana.&amp;nbsp; Ron, Sam, and I glance at each other and chuckle a bit.&amp;nbsp; She does make Run club interesting.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then I hear her get one last jerk remark out.&amp;nbsp; "Well you've obviously been eating well on vacation, now we know why you're back...Time to run off the junk in the trunk."&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
My eyes widen and the fire in my stomach (which could be because I didn't eat breakfast) ignited and I whip my pony tail around to face her.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm assuming Ron didn't know what to do because he put his arm out&amp;nbsp;to block me and came in with a "Woahhhh"&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I shouted over him, "YOU ARE......(&lt;em&gt;Very Long Pause.&amp;nbsp;She's an idiot why am I so upset?&amp;nbsp; Do I want to go there?&amp;nbsp; Keep it Classy.)&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;"SO DEMOTIVATING!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;A&amp;nbsp;deranged sorority girl told me I was huge and I decided to attack her motivational skills.&amp;nbsp; Awesome.&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm mad but I see Ron and start to hold back a smile at how ridiculous what I just said was.&amp;nbsp; Then&amp;nbsp;Ron breaks into a laugh.&amp;nbsp; The circle breaks into laughter.&lt;br /&gt;
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Jenny is the only one at this point not laughing.&amp;nbsp; Probably because she isn't sure what to say.&amp;nbsp; I may not have told her off but I did succeed in confusing her.&amp;nbsp; As she was regaining her thought process and I was thinking of what I wanted to say, Jerry!&amp;nbsp;ran up behind us all.&amp;nbsp; "JERRRRRRRY'S HERE!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"WHO IS&amp;nbsp;READY TO RUN!"&amp;nbsp; We all take off running and I&amp;nbsp;was so upset that I beat&amp;nbsp;Jerry! our pace leader.&amp;nbsp; For 4 miles I ran between all my emotions, anger at Jenny, anger at myself for letting her bother me, and then happiness.&amp;nbsp; I might have even started&amp;nbsp;laughing at the thought of what had just happened.&amp;nbsp; I had gained weight and Jenny pointed that out, maybe not in a nice way, but she gave me energy.&amp;nbsp; I ran the fastest 4 mile pace, since I had started running.&amp;nbsp; Jenny was unusually at the back of the pack.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At the end of class I was grabbing water with Ron and Sam.&amp;nbsp; Guys don't really like to rehash things especially not fights, unless of course they were not involved.&lt;br /&gt;
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Sam cautiously came up next to me and said, "Wow.&amp;nbsp; You ran really fast you should get pissed off more often."&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;was quick to justify myself "I just had energy, I wasn't mad!"&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Ron laughingly says "You weren't mad?&amp;nbsp; That wasn't your mad face?"&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I was just flustered."&lt;br /&gt;
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Ron was amused at my response so he said, "Flustered?&amp;nbsp; Man you looked like you were about to snap a bitch in half!&amp;nbsp; I was ready for her to finally get told off! Then the worlds longest angry pause just so we could hear demotivation pop out your mouth. Your little 'What Would Jesus Do' moment cost you some street cred girl."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-9066629822474866125?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bll3XPBfOT2ehj3ol8zaoVHCf8w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bll3XPBfOT2ehj3ol8zaoVHCf8w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/fLPG2xRHbN0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/9066629822474866125/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/08/jenny-jerk.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/9066629822474866125?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/9066629822474866125?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/fLPG2xRHbN0/jenny-jerk.html" title="Jenny The Jerk" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/THQKdTvTrdI/AAAAAAAAADk/ciOzXlD5Rfw/s72-c/runclub.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Chicago, IL, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>41.850033 -87.6500523</georss:point><georss:box>41.59429050000001 -88.1169713 42.1057755 -87.1831333</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/08/jenny-jerk.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8FSHoyfCp7ImA9Wx5TFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-264204482140934279</id><published>2010-07-29T07:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T07:50:19.494-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-29T07:50:19.494-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sol" /><title>Sol Part 1</title><content type="html">I have a neighbor, he is not your average neighbor.&amp;nbsp; He is 80yrs old, short, Jewish, is balding, and has a bit of a 'tude.&amp;nbsp; I can't exactly remember when or how we started to talk but when we did it then turned into a unique friendship.&amp;nbsp; Most Tuesday nights I spend hanging out with Sol watching movies, going for (short) walks, looking at old photos, or drinking wine.&amp;nbsp; Some of my friends who know about my relationship with him think it's strange, but it truly isn't.&amp;nbsp;I don't really feel like he is that old.&amp;nbsp;  I was able to convince him to take a painting class, take a cooking class with me and ask a woman in our  building out on a date.&amp;nbsp; He has such a young spirit and comments that come out of his mouth crack me up.&amp;nbsp; Here are some his all time best statements:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;My fortune cookie read&lt;/b&gt; "An interesting musical opportunity is in your near future."&amp;nbsp; His response was "You can't really sing so I think that means this food is going to give you gas!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;His thoughts on the men in Bucktown&lt;/b&gt; "All these guys look like idiots their pants are too tight and most of them have nothing to be proud about."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Advice in dating&lt;/b&gt; "Be home by 9 that is when respectable girls come home.&amp;nbsp; Don't chew gum, only street walkers chew gum.&amp;nbsp; Don't kiss on the first date he'll think you're easy.&amp;nbsp; You'll never meet a nice Jewish man if you don't lower your height requirement."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;When I thought someone broke into my apartment &lt;/b&gt;"You're gonna give me a heart attack.&amp;nbsp; I think God brought you into my life to kill me."&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Religious Beliefs&lt;/b&gt; "You need to convert to Judaism, because the men are better.&amp;nbsp; You will have to get used to someone less than 7feet tall."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;When I was going to pass up dessert he said&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; "&lt;span id="main" style="visibility: visible;"&gt;&lt;span id="search" style="visibility: visible;"&gt;Just think of all those women on the &lt;i&gt;Titanic&lt;/i&gt;  who said, "No,  thank you," to &lt;i&gt;dessert&lt;/i&gt; that night. And for  what!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The reason I bring Sol up is because I read him my blogs and tell him about my dates.&amp;nbsp; He's become part of my life and a part of my story.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two months ago I told him I was going to NYC, Scottsdale, and DC all in the Month of May.&amp;nbsp; He said that he wished he traveled more when he was younger, and now that he is old he cannot do it.&amp;nbsp; I dislike the word can't, it shouldn't be in people's vocabularies.&amp;nbsp; So I went into pep talk mode and told him that he was not too old and it was not too late for him to travel around.&amp;nbsp; He told me I was crazy and that he would maybe go next year.&amp;nbsp; So I said to him "Isn't your favorite quote "What if you died tomorrow?&amp;nbsp; Wouldn't you have wished you lived it up?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We sat there in silence and I realized that I can say this to my friends to get them to do stay longer and keep dancing but telling an 80yr old man who &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; might die tomorrow was pretty insensitive.&amp;nbsp; Just when I though I might have upset him he said "Where should I go?"&amp;nbsp; I decided to help him research places and he decided on a trip to San Diego and Temecula Valley.&amp;nbsp; He asked me if I knew any good travel agents which prompted me to laugh at him.&amp;nbsp; I told him that I would book his trip for him.&amp;nbsp; I booked his return flight for May 16th so that he and I could share a cab back into the city.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When May 16th rolled around he never showed up.&amp;nbsp; I waited by his gate and he never got off the flight.&amp;nbsp; Sol also thinks that I received a degree in technology because I understand how to operate an iPhone, I have a "faceplace", and I can walk to and from our apartments and my internet still works.&amp;nbsp; It's a miracle!&amp;nbsp; Since I had no idea how to contact a guy with no cell phone I just had to wait patiently.&amp;nbsp; Patience isn't my strong suit.&amp;nbsp; The gate agents had no information and could not tell me if he boarded his flight without a police warrant.&amp;nbsp; I was tempted to file a missing persons report but decided to just wait one day.&amp;nbsp; He probably missed his flight and would come home later.&amp;nbsp; On my cab ride home my vivid imagination kicked into high gear.&amp;nbsp; Somehow I came to 1 of 4 conclusions each ending with his death due to awful driving, being hard of hearing, or just being old.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After 4hrs of coming to my worst conclusions I called his hotel, the hospitals in the surrounding area, and the airline to see if he changed his flight.&amp;nbsp; No such luck.&amp;nbsp; He had checked out but did not tell anyone where he had gone.&amp;nbsp; About 4 days later his son came around asking where he was and I had to fess up that I had booked him and Barb (the woman he went on a date with) on a trip to California and they had not returned.&amp;nbsp; After my verbal lashing from his late 50's son I felt guilty and awful that something had happened to him.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't until exactly one week later that I got a post card the same day he showed back up to our apartment building.&amp;nbsp; He said he was "living it up" and had decided to take a ride on Highway 1 up along the coast and would be flying back from San Francisco.&amp;nbsp; The guy who didn't want to go anywhere was now taking road trips.&amp;nbsp; When we finished discussing his trip I said "Well now it's my turn to tell you that you almost gave me a heart attack!"&amp;nbsp; His response "Don't worry about me.&amp;nbsp; Worry about finding a boyfriend...did you meet anyone while I was gone?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-264204482140934279?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G90D8CLUpy5b8fwlQSxFQpA9g-Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G90D8CLUpy5b8fwlQSxFQpA9g-Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/eLs-vZU-15Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/264204482140934279/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/07/sol-part-1.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/264204482140934279?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/264204482140934279?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/eLs-vZU-15Q/sol-part-1.html" title="Sol Part 1" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/07/sol-part-1.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UBSHc6cSp7ImA9Wx5TEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-1906724324720499347</id><published>2010-07-26T08:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T08:34:19.919-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-26T08:34:19.919-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="seat belt" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Texas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="police" /><title>Click it or Ticket!</title><content type="html">I went back home to Texas for my Step-Sister Meri's wedding.&amp;nbsp; We had a great time, but while I was down there I was pulled over.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I did not get my nails done prior to coming to Texas so I had to stop by the nail salon.&amp;nbsp; It took them forever but we finally got the color right and I was able to walk out a happy customer.&amp;nbsp; As my nails were drying I realized I had spent almost 2 1/2 hours there so I needed to get home.&amp;nbsp; I jumped in the car and as I was backing out I saw a police officer.&amp;nbsp; I assumed he was going to pass me but he didn't.&amp;nbsp; As I was pulling onto the main road his lights went on.&amp;nbsp; I thought to myself this is ridiculous I used my blinker, I turned on green, and I had not even reached 10mph.&amp;nbsp; I decided I would pull into the Whataburger because if you're going to get a ticket you might as well get fries to go with it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I rolled down the window and said "Hi there."&amp;nbsp; The officer said "Ma'am do you know why I pulled you over?"&lt;br /&gt;
Do officers only ask this question because they would like you to incriminate yourself?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
I stared blankly going over what I had done and said "No Sir...I do know that I wasn't speeding."&amp;nbsp; I smiled and chuckled a little bit.&amp;nbsp; Ok maybe too much, I need to control the making myself laugh sometimes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The officer took my licence after reviewing it he gruffly said "Well down here in Texas we have a law about wearing your seat belt."&amp;nbsp; I said "Oh I know I'm from here, I went to school down at UTSA for 4yrs.&amp;nbsp; I've only lived in IL for 5yrs...I just couldn't put it on."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TE2MpjeBTrI/AAAAAAAAADg/Z7sF0oNZw-s/s1600/txclickit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TE2MpjeBTrI/AAAAAAAAADg/Z7sF0oNZw-s/s1600/txclickit.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;He looked a bit perterbed and interrupted my rambling "Everyone has to put it on.&amp;nbsp; Why couldn't you put yours on?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As sweetly as I could I said "My nails are still wet."&amp;nbsp; I held up my hands for him to see.&amp;nbsp; I gave him my sad eyes and puffed out bottom lip and said "I always obey the law my brother is a police officer, I just didn't want to ruin my nails for my sister's wedding.&amp;nbsp; I already smudged one rolling down the window."&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
He took a step back and I think I saw a bit of a smile behind the 'I'm not sure what to say next' look on his face.&amp;nbsp; He stood and I sat in silence.&amp;nbsp; It was his move.&amp;nbsp; Then he said "Well umm ok let me just get that for you then."&amp;nbsp; He opened the door, grabbed the seat belt and then reached over me to click it.&amp;nbsp; I blurted out THANK YOU before he could get his entire body out of the car and he turned bright red and just nodded and put one hand up and walked back to his cruiser.&amp;nbsp; Whew!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ladies if you get pulled over in Texas...be nice and maybe a bit helpless.&amp;nbsp; You never want to mess with Texas, unless of course you have a really good reason. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-1906724324720499347?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1yE5xLT4O3FAk9BT2AAETzTlfqs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1yE5xLT4O3FAk9BT2AAETzTlfqs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/3cpA9uEfjg0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/1906724324720499347/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/07/click-it-or-ticket.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/1906724324720499347?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/1906724324720499347?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/3cpA9uEfjg0/click-it-or-ticket.html" title="Click it or Ticket!" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TE2MpjeBTrI/AAAAAAAAADg/Z7sF0oNZw-s/s72-c/txclickit.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><georss:featurename>San Antonio, TX, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>29.4241219 -98.4936282</georss:point><georss:box>29.1250894 -98.96054720000001 29.7231544 -98.0267092</georss:box><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/07/click-it-or-ticket.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4CR3c_cCp7ImA9WxFaGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-536119628506447334</id><published>2010-07-23T00:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T12:59:26.948-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-23T12:59:26.948-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blond jerry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="no mayo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stomach ache" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sick" /><title>Hold the Mayo</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TEko0KhZxSI/AAAAAAAAADY/rx65Vygo96c/s1600/poster_mayo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TEko0KhZxSI/AAAAAAAAADY/rx65Vygo96c/s320/poster_mayo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;About two weeks ago I was having a rough week. (More stories to follow)&amp;nbsp; I was asked to host a meeting with 12hrs notice for some pretty important people visiting Chicago.&amp;nbsp; No big deal.&amp;nbsp; After allowing myself a minute to use a few expletives and stomping my feet I got it together and started to organize at 3:02pm on a Monday.&amp;nbsp; There were two vegetarians so I made sure to order their meals properly and ask for my meal to be made without mayo.&amp;nbsp; I said three times "no mayo".&amp;nbsp; I find mayonnaise and miracle whip amazing, in the sense that I am amazed people want to put liquid fat with a bland flavor on their food.&amp;nbsp; There is no miracle about it, the texture and the taste gross me out.&amp;nbsp; I'm actually gagging right now as I think about writing descriptive words for it.&amp;nbsp; Ugh. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When our afternoon lunch came I walked the delivery guy back downstairs and paid him.&amp;nbsp; I walked the delivery guy downstairs thinking I had enough time to head back upstairs to alert people of which meals belonged to who.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately as soon as I walked out the chow down started so my no mayo sandwich went to the President of the organization we were meeting with that day.&amp;nbsp; He wasn't holding back his appetite so I had no opportunity to stop him and make a trade.&amp;nbsp; In fact he was half way done with his meal by the time I got back up to the 16th floor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The meeting went well despite the minor food setbacks of the day.&amp;nbsp; When I was on my way out I realized there was some extra food left.&amp;nbsp; There is sometimes a homeless man in Lincoln Park which is near my apartment, and I figured I would give him the left over sandwiches.&amp;nbsp; (I sometimes give him my breakfast as an excuse to go to Starbucks).&amp;nbsp; It was a particularly humid and an uncomfortably steamy 92 degree day.&amp;nbsp; When I got on the bus I found out that the air condition was not working on this bus.&amp;nbsp; It felt like a cheap sauna in Peru (Em you know the Sauna I'm talking about).&amp;nbsp; I was wearing a dress so I deduced I could handle it for 25minutes.&amp;nbsp; I found a seat next to a friendly looking face who looked like Jerry Seinfeld but with a smaller nose, blue eyes, and blond hair.&amp;nbsp; As per usual I somehow began chatting with this friendly guy sitting next to me.&amp;nbsp; We talked about a few things before the heat began to bother me and my stomach started making gurgling noises.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Guy:&amp;nbsp; "Is that your stomach?"&lt;br /&gt;
Me:&amp;nbsp; "Yeah, I think it's because it's so hot and sweaty on this bus."&lt;br /&gt;
Guy:&amp;nbsp; "Oh umm ok.&amp;nbsp; So what's with all the food you're carrying?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As soon as he said that I looked down at the food and saw a vision of the sandwich I ate for lunch.&amp;nbsp; Both sides of the bread was coated in mayo.&amp;nbsp; I took one of the pieces off and tried to scrape the mayo off but it was all over the meat, cheese, and lettuce too.&amp;nbsp; When the President of the organization saw what I was doing he said "Why didn't you just order yours without mayo?"&amp;nbsp; In my head I said &lt;i&gt;If you hadn't eaten through the plastic you might have seen that it said CLARA - NO MAYO on the sandwich you inhaled&lt;/i&gt;!&amp;nbsp; What I really said was "Yeah next time I'll do that.&amp;nbsp; Good idea."&amp;nbsp; I ate a few bites which was enough for me to realize that my stomach was angry at the mayo.&amp;nbsp; I decided to discard the rest of the sandwich and eat the tiny fist sized salad instead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the bus the sound of my stomach fighting with the white creamy condiment combined with the heat was adding to my vision of it putrefying in my stomach.&amp;nbsp; I instantly felt like throwing up.&amp;nbsp; As soon as the bus jerked into the next stop it was as if an electric shock ran up my backside I stood straight up and bolted to the rear exit, shoving people, and dropping one of the bags of sandwiches.&amp;nbsp; Much like a sandwich Cinderella the blond Jerry grabbed the left over bag and followed me off the bus.&amp;nbsp; At this point I had dropped my laptop bag and handbag in the grass and was sitting up on my knees ripping off my cherry red cardigan.&amp;nbsp; He stood there in silence as I began to swing the cardigan around my face as some type of limp fan.&amp;nbsp; He took out a notebook and fanned me then asked if I was alright.&amp;nbsp; I felt that at any minute I was going to explode and probably all over his leather bound notebook if he didn't get it out of my face.&amp;nbsp; I kept my mouth sealed shut which looked like a straight line on my now flushed face.&amp;nbsp; He knelled down beside me and rubbed my back just as I turned onto all fours groaning "Oh mylanta!&amp;nbsp; Oh.Good.God.&amp;nbsp; I feel awful."&amp;nbsp; I faced downward towards the grass, just in case.&amp;nbsp; I was feeling dizzy and according to Blond Jerry I was now a greenish color.&amp;nbsp; He asked again "Are you OK?&amp;nbsp; Can I go get you something?"&amp;nbsp; I groaned "It was the maaaayo! Uuuuuugh"&amp;nbsp; I'm fairly nice and helpful but even I would have left me at this point.&amp;nbsp; What guy thinks to himself "It's cool, I'll just waste 30min of my day with a crazy girl who has a stomach ache on La Salle."&amp;nbsp; I'm sure he was really thinking "Why did I follow this crazy girl off the bus?&amp;nbsp; I could have eaten her sandwiches too."&amp;nbsp; I rolled from all fours onto my rear end and hiked up my dress a little above my knees and shoved my head between my legs.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After what seemed like an eternity the queasy feeling subsided and I started to feel better.&amp;nbsp; It was only then that I realized the strangeness of the situation.&amp;nbsp; A complete stranger that I spoke to for maybe 10minutes was rubbing my back and softly telling me that I would be alright.&amp;nbsp; I came to my senses and felt utterly embarrassed.&amp;nbsp; Both hands flew up to my face in an attempt to shield myself from the look of confusion and caution that was beaming at me from Blond Jerry's eyes.&amp;nbsp; He asked to walk me back to my apartment and I told him I would be just fine.&amp;nbsp; He walked me to my apartment anyway and carried my heavy laptop bag.&amp;nbsp; It was an awkward goodbye but I tried my best to express my gratitude for sitting next to me on the middle of one of the busiest streets while I had a "personal moment" as he so politely called it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It turns out that there are nice guys out there and if Blond Jerry happens to be running in God's Sainthood contest he has my vote!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-536119628506447334?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GlTA4U26I-BTvkHprUFYTSylHdc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GlTA4U26I-BTvkHprUFYTSylHdc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/8SC_2JTGhE0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/536119628506447334/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/07/hold-mayo.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/536119628506447334?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/536119628506447334?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/8SC_2JTGhE0/hold-mayo.html" title="Hold the Mayo" /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TEko0KhZxSI/AAAAAAAAADY/rx65Vygo96c/s72-c/poster_mayo.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/07/hold-mayo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08CR3k_eCp7ImA9WxFaEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278189364317327376.post-2123449909041017207</id><published>2010-07-13T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T22:57:46.740-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-13T22:57:46.740-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Italians" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="FF" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amore" /><title>The Italian...</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TD0z8hWxvQI/AAAAAAAAADQ/hoNaoVCiyuE/s1600/Italy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TD0z8hWxvQI/AAAAAAAAADQ/hoNaoVCiyuE/s200/Italy.jpg" width="133" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was 10am on a Monday and I was engaged in a serious conversation  with Josh about the idiots managing LBJ when my BBM (Blackberry  Messenger) started chiming so frequently it sounded like it was broken.&amp;nbsp;  He asked me who was blowing me up and I told him "oh it's an Italian."&amp;nbsp;  Josh asked me how I knew and I said "I just do."&amp;nbsp; Twelve more chimes  and I decided to check out what was going on.&amp;nbsp; Turns out I was being  invited to the Greek Isles, Vienna, Prague, Thailand, Japan, or beaches I  had to google.&amp;nbsp; All expenses paid for of course and a perfect gentleman  to accompany me.&amp;nbsp; This is what it is like to be friends with a  persistent Italian who believes you are the most amazing thing since the  invention of the Bellini.&amp;nbsp; Luckily this has not been my first encounter  with Italian men, or my last.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I first experienced Italian men when I was in Italy with Megan the  summer of 2001.&amp;nbsp; Italian men can be summed up in one word:&amp;nbsp; Intense.&amp;nbsp;  Anywhere we walked it was "Ciao Bella" or "venga con me, bellisima" and  grabbing then kissing of the hands commenced.&amp;nbsp; I knew enough of Spanish  to translate what those two phrases meant and I was irritated, annoyed,  and a bit freaked.&amp;nbsp; They even behaved this way at the Vatican. &amp;nbsp;Holy  freak out!&amp;nbsp; As a girl who is very conservative when it comes to  affection (the rest of my family does not have this problem which I  believe exacerbated my issues) I was in a state of annoyance and  irritation at least once a day.&amp;nbsp; We found ourselves running away when we  walked down the main piazza, couldn't stand in lines more than  2minutes, and were bombarded if we were at an outdoor restaurant.&amp;nbsp; I  think Megan was flattered and enamored by all the accented attention but  I was getting headaches from all my eye rolling and grimacing.&amp;nbsp; I spoke  with several people about my wanting to throat punch people who  infiltrated my personal bubble but none gave as good of advice as the  Chef at our hostel.&amp;nbsp; The Chef taught us to use the word "basta", which  literally&amp;nbsp;translates to "enough" but when said with force it means  business.&amp;nbsp; After a few more lessons from Chef we learned to carry  ourselves in a way that didn't attract attention which just meant  staring down and looking aggressively into the eyes of these men before  they could open their mouths.&amp;nbsp; As I re-read through my journal while  writing this I found the day he taught us this phrase.&amp;nbsp; After all my  ranting about the Pantheon, Catacombs, and Vatican this is what I wrote  about my new found powerful word "I finally got to use the "basta" word  that our Chef told us about.&amp;nbsp; I think it literally means fuck off  because these guys were upset and completely freaked out.&amp;nbsp; Doubtful that  they will be shouting dirty Italian comments tomorrow.&amp;nbsp; I might need to  use this new found yelling at jerks when I get back to the states."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cut to 2007 when I was at a "Meet New People" party and I was  approached in very Italian fashion by a guy I'll call FF.&amp;nbsp; Picture an  Italian accent attached to a&amp;nbsp;6'0 guy with an athletic body, the attire  of casual James Bond,&amp;nbsp;and the hair of Robert Pattinson.&amp;nbsp; Then picture  him telling you that you look very exotic and&amp;nbsp;telling you&amp;nbsp;he would like  to "kissa your face."&amp;nbsp; I'm sure my reaction was not like anything you're  imagining because I laughed.&amp;nbsp; I was dating someone at the time which  allowed me to use the excuse that I was taken and could not be kissed.&amp;nbsp; I  tried to walk away.&amp;nbsp; He laughed and said he hoped I was dating a "real  man."&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Who is this guy?&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp; We ended up talking and he&amp;nbsp;convinced me  that&amp;nbsp;I was not married and could give out a phone number to go to  brunch.&amp;nbsp; My response, "Absolutely not."&amp;nbsp; As our group was departing for  the next location he grabbed my hand and as he kissed it then he slyly  put his card into my hand.&amp;nbsp; "For when you get the courage...." and he  winked.&amp;nbsp; I was more irritated than anything.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Hello?!&amp;nbsp; Did he not  gather from our&amp;nbsp;30min conversation&amp;nbsp;that I have iron clad resolve!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;  I&amp;nbsp;shoved the card into my&amp;nbsp;clutch and walked off to catch up with my  friends.&amp;nbsp; A year later I found myself suddenly single.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was getting dressed to go out I grabbed the long forgotten  clutch.&amp;nbsp; That night while searching around for a lip gloss I&amp;nbsp;found the  card.&amp;nbsp; I dismissed the card but it caused an itch in my dialing finger.&amp;nbsp;  It was a year and some months later but&amp;nbsp;I decided to call him.&amp;nbsp; As soon  as I told him "It's Clara fro..." he interrupted and said "Ahhhh  Ciao&amp;nbsp;Bella Clara from the party last year.&amp;nbsp; I knew you would call!&amp;nbsp; It  took you forever che bella.&amp;nbsp; When are we going on a date?"&amp;nbsp; I hardly got  a word in edgewise but he decided we were going for brunch.&amp;nbsp; He is an  international consultant and at the time he was overseas but decided to  make a trip back to&amp;nbsp;take me&amp;nbsp;to brunch, plus he had to do his expenses  anyway.&amp;nbsp; The first of traveling no big deals from him.&amp;nbsp; He took me to a  great little brunch spot and we spent 3hrs talking about his journey to  the US, my dreams, my plans, his travels, where I should travel, and  finally business school.&amp;nbsp; The tide turned in his favor when&amp;nbsp;he said "I  will help you get into business school&amp;nbsp;in any way possible.&amp;nbsp; I am on  your team!"&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Side Note:&amp;nbsp; That phrase got me because 1.&amp;nbsp; I love team activities  and I'm super competitive&amp;nbsp;and 2.&amp;nbsp; Because my Dad Gary always referred to  our family as a team.&amp;nbsp; Everything was an individual effort that helped  the team.&amp;nbsp; So that's where my love of "teams" comes from.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He left back to the U.A.E. a few days later for a business deal and  we set a 2nd date&amp;nbsp;upon his return.&amp;nbsp; Then a&amp;nbsp;few weeks&amp;nbsp;later my plans to  meet back up with him were derailed when the ex-boyfriend who broke my  heart came back.&amp;nbsp; As you have probably gathered from this blog I am a  sucker for 2nd chances so I said yes to the ex and let FF and White Sox  guy in on the news.&amp;nbsp; They were not excited but appreciated my honesty  and respected my decision.&amp;nbsp; As soon as I got off the phone with FF he  sent me a message "Call me when you are single again."&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Who does this  guy think he is?!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt; I was so upset with his comment that I deleted  his number.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;In the summer of 2009 I found myself single again and at the same  Meet New People Party that Billie had hosted in 2007.&amp;nbsp; And guess who was  there?&amp;nbsp; We caught up and Andrea my date informed him I was single.&amp;nbsp; We  had a great time and set a date for the following week since he would be  in Chicago for a few weeks.&amp;nbsp; I had a fantastic time with him.&amp;nbsp; We went  to many of my current favorite restaurants and just had a good time.&amp;nbsp; My  most memorable date was at Avec where they have shared tables.&amp;nbsp; As we  were meeting the groups around us FF introduces me as a very famous  restaurant critic.&amp;nbsp; Before we knew it I was giving advice on restaurants  and what to order.&amp;nbsp; The people around us ended up ordering the exact  same items we chose.&amp;nbsp; I felt a bit bad but only until the food came.&amp;nbsp;  Still makes my mouth water just thinking about the peaches and  prosciutto.&amp;nbsp; Most of our dates had a bit of fun to them, and I honestly  had no clue what FF was going to do at our next meal.&amp;nbsp; It made it fun  and still does.&amp;nbsp; He's quite the character and like myself he loves to  meet new people.&amp;nbsp; After about two weeks of dating I was having a great  time but there was just something missing.&amp;nbsp; When we hung out there was a  part of me that was withdrawn, I could feel myself not really letting  down that one last drawbridge so he could cross over to boyfriend  territory.&amp;nbsp; The more I withdrew the more he advanced and the intensity  was revealed.&amp;nbsp; He wanted to take me to Dubai, he wanted to have 2  different wedding receptions, and he wanted to buy me everything.&amp;nbsp;  Immediately I felt exactly what every man probably feels when a girl  reveals her 5,10, and 20yr plans for &lt;i&gt;their&lt;/i&gt; life together.&amp;nbsp; I felt  suffocated even though all he was doing was telling me things that  every girl (supposedly) wants to hear.&amp;nbsp; I had gotten my wish.&amp;nbsp; An  intelligent, handsome, well dressed, chivalrous man, who wants to take  me all over the world and buy me houses and jewelry and I didn't want  it.&amp;nbsp; I guess not all girls can be gold diggers.&amp;nbsp; Damn it!&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TDz1UUkAMbI/AAAAAAAAADA/dxDT3-Sg_r4/s1600/064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TDz1UUkAMbI/AAAAAAAAADA/dxDT3-Sg_r4/s200/064.JPG" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He  had to leave back to Dubai and I felt a sense of sadness and relief all  at once.&amp;nbsp; There would be space and I was glad, but my friend was  leaving.&amp;nbsp; I told him about my trip in October to visit my friend Katie  in Madrid and he flew more than 36hrs round trip to join us for 24hrs in  Mallorca and he even paid for our hotel rooms.&amp;nbsp; Although Katie and I  were asked which one of us was Mrs. FF when we checked in.&amp;nbsp; It was a  great time until he was upset I did not want to spend all my time with  him.&amp;nbsp; That evening I made friends with some people at the bar and stayed  late chatting it up and drinking wine.&amp;nbsp; Even though I had informed him  it was a Katie &amp;amp; Clara trip prior to him coming it wasn't good  enough.&amp;nbsp; I ended up getting irritated that I couldn't be free to do what  I wanted and also that I was upsetting him.&amp;nbsp; The trip ended on a weird  note and he went back to Dubai and we went back to Madrid.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TDz2jOvhLWI/AAAAAAAAADI/n3MshbFN6Uw/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TDz2jOvhLWI/AAAAAAAAADI/n3MshbFN6Uw/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After  he left Katie helped me realize that it was OK that I didn't return the intense feelings he felt for me.&amp;nbsp; However, I didn't want to tell  him that because I was afraid of losing our friendship but I couldn't keep pretending his verbal displays for affection were meant for the lady I was sitting next to.&amp;nbsp; When people say lovey dovey things to me it is like my vision is hovering over me and I'm watching myself smile and squirm like a 5yr old given a hug by their grandpa who smells like werther's originals.&amp;nbsp; Since I figured it would probably be awkward if he asked me to marry him and I happened to respond by asking if we could "talk about it later" I told him how I felt.&amp;nbsp; I said to him that he was a  great friend and we would probably be friends for life but marrying me  was not going to happen.&amp;nbsp; He did not speak to me for a month.&amp;nbsp; This is horrible to say but I hardly noticed which made  me realize my decision was correct.&amp;nbsp; When he did contact me again we  were able to pick up where we left off.&amp;nbsp; Literally.&amp;nbsp; He still has our  weddings in Texas &amp;amp; Italy planned out.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure if the  History Channel is correct on how the Roman Empire became so large.&amp;nbsp; I  have a feeling the Romans just kept asking other regions to join until  they eventually gave in and decided joining the Romans would not be as bad as getting asked again the following day if they would &lt;strike&gt;date&lt;/strike&gt; join them. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Lesson Learned:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp; It's safe to say that Italians never give up.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3278189364317327376-2123449909041017207?l=theeraofclara.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/buR3lAFvwryenoYFXXsgVgCRPbQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/buR3lAFvwryenoYFXXsgVgCRPbQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~4/O4rdVw33roQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/feeds/2123449909041017207/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/07/italian.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/2123449909041017207?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3278189364317327376/posts/default/2123449909041017207?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheEraOfClara/~3/O4rdVw33roQ/italian.html" title="The Italian..." /><author><name>Clara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08404516730783339052</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/S1iDKtbl7RI/AAAAAAAAAAM/SOyDd7jbAWs/S220/102.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rntK5x-EBBs/TD0z8hWxvQI/AAAAAAAAADQ/hoNaoVCiyuE/s72-c/Italy.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://theeraofclara.blogspot.com/2010/07/italian.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

