<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355</id><updated>2011-09-02T00:00:29.965-04:00</updated><category term='break-up'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='Kyle'/><category term='visit'/><title type='text'>A Million Little Pieces</title><subtitle type='html'>Honestly?

I have blogs in other places, but they're much more public.  While this one is just as public, it doesn't automatically have close friends attached to it.  That's part of the allure for me.

Ultimately, this blog will be my little square of personal space on this vast internet. :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-498598943477589292</id><published>2010-03-28T13:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T13:34:27.232-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Miss Nailstaaaaah is having her first ever reader giveaway!  Forty-nine followers so far, and going strong!  She'll probably double that number in a month!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://nailstah.blogspot.com/2010/03/nailstahs-first-reader-appreciation.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check her out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-498598943477589292?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/498598943477589292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/miss-nailstaaaaah-is-having-her-first.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/498598943477589292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/498598943477589292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/miss-nailstaaaaah-is-having-her-first.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-1165797224859364401</id><published>2010-03-28T00:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T00:52:38.332-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Contests galore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ladies over at Never Enough Nails are having a giveaway.  Zoya polishes?  I've only tried one, and I'd really love to have a chance at getting a few of my own. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun fact:  Almost all of the Zoya polishes have female names.  There's even an Erin!  If it were not so vanilla, I'd buy it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check them out!&lt;br /&gt;http://neverenoughnails.blogspot.com/2010/03/giveaway-zoya-reverie-collection.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-1165797224859364401?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1165797224859364401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/contests-galore-ladies-over-at-never.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1165797224859364401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1165797224859364401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/contests-galore-ladies-over-at-never.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-6011988246150379568</id><published>2010-03-18T18:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T18:27:43.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh my, there's another contest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://nailaddictsanonymous.blogspot.com/2010/03/our-first-giveaway-celebrating-64.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to starting my own blog so that I can do fun stuff like this!  The ladies that joined forces to swatch up Nail Addicts Anonymous really make a fantastic blog.  Check them out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-6011988246150379568?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6011988246150379568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-my-theres-another-contest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6011988246150379568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6011988246150379568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-my-theres-another-contest.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-8157344067611979439</id><published>2010-03-10T00:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T00:30:46.687-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my goodness...</title><content type='html'>Little Music Boxes is having a contest, too! &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what it's for!!  PI DAY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So of course I must enter.  Her blog is beautiful, and her pictures are pristine.  Not to mention that I'm thrilled that she just did a major swatchfest on flaky polishes, which are a huge, huge want of mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the link to her blog. :)  Check her and her awesome Pi Day contest out!&lt;br /&gt;http://littlemusicboxes.blogspot.com/2010/03/pi-day-giveaway.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-8157344067611979439?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8157344067611979439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-my-goodness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/8157344067611979439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/8157344067611979439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-my-goodness.html' title='Oh my goodness...'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-4392570786164490108</id><published>2010-03-07T22:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T22:18:35.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been reading tons and tons of polish blogs lately, and while I've been entering a lot of giveaways, I'd like a second entry to this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://shortnchic.blogspot.com/2010/03/steffs-aesthetically-pleasing-giveaway.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steff puts together a really mean Aesthetically Pleasing gift pack, and outside of the Sinful color and the perfume samples (which would still be lovely), I've really been lemming the rest of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check her out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-4392570786164490108?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4392570786164490108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/ive-been-reading-tons-and-tons-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/4392570786164490108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/4392570786164490108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/ive-been-reading-tons-and-tons-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-402210892998722479</id><published>2009-09-15T18:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T18:21:12.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The [Expanded] Bible  New Testament&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Expanded Bible is meant to be a study Bible, though the only special content that I found in its pages were the extensions within the text (more on that later).  This Bible does not contain maps, historical commentary, and it rarely seems to site other verses as reference (more on this later as well!).  I believe that this Bible is the New Century Version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s certainly nothing against this particular type of Bible, but I couldn’t stand using this version.  I tried to consult it several times in different situations.  Between my own personal study and using it during church and for our college-age class, I still found it dreadful.  I imagine that if you’re comfortable with the Amplified version of the Bible, you may also like this one, because they’re set up similarly.  Instead of having sections blocked off at the bottom of the page for commentary, the commentary is instead inserted directly into the text.  This made it very difficult to follow and read aloud, when necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, the awkward textual situation would not have bothered me so much if the information within the brackets was actually [relevant] to what I was looking for in a study Bible!  Instead of being historical information, or information to help you better understand the context of what you’re reading, the contents of the brackets mainly consisted of synonyms for the word that preceded them.  Talk about pointless!  It was incredibly difficult for me to grasp and accept the fact that about 95% of what’s bracketed is just synonyms that I could have come up with on my own.  Additionally, many of the citations to other scripture that I’ve found reference the Old Testament!  I’m happy that they still made the connection, but it does very little good referencing the Old Testament when this Bible does not contain any part of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would not recommend this Bible to anyone that’s serious about getting into the scripture and its context.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-402210892998722479?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/402210892998722479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/09/expanded-bible-new-testament-expanded.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/402210892998722479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/402210892998722479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/09/expanded-bible-new-testament-expanded.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-5569049215991249997</id><published>2009-08-27T22:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T22:31:35.409-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best friend is talking to me again, but she's an endless broken record about the guy she's into.  Is it possible to really be happy for someone while at the same time just wanting them to get off the subject and talk about something different for a change?  I don't know.  I hope so.  I think I'm happy for her, but all of this building annoyance with the whole thing makes me question that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woooooo, DOWNER BLOG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim is dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim is my mother's father.  People keep asking his my grandpa/grandfather is doing.  Jim is neither one of those things.  He's a pretty damn awesome guy, that Jim.  He didn't even realize that my mom had had me until, at one or two years old, she walked me across the street to a family reunion that she wasn't invited to, where she introduced him to me.  Obviously, I was a child, so I don't remember.  But that was pretty shitty of him, not even knowing.  Not having any contact with his own daughter for that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, or how about the way we found out he was sick?  My mom and I were at Wal-Mart, and some DISTANT cousin of my mom's happened to recognize her and told her about how they'd recently found out that Jim had cancer.  Really, this shows how much a part of the family she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim comes to town and doesn't call her to see her, even just over lunch.  She finds out after the fact that he's been around, and even though she didn't necessarily want to see him, it upsets her that he doesn't want to see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She drove three hours down to Indianapolis to see him today at the medical center, because he was doing pretty bad and it's pretty close to the end.  She's really a good woman, my mom.  Just today, she did more for him than he's done for her in probably forty years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So no.  Jim is not my grandpa, and Jim is ONLY a father by blood.  He's not a father in any loving, familial sense.  I'm tired of people asking me about him.  I won't shed a tear over his passing, because I hardly know him at all.  It's sincerely just like some stranger passing away.  Like reading the obituary of someone you've never met.  The only thing that could possibly hurt me in this whole situation is the inevitable feelings of loss I know that my mom will feel.  Even though he was never there for her, she will feel them.  She's too good of a woman for her not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even going to get into work drama.  Maybe in another post, another time.  Outside of Gabe's soccer game (which was wonderful, and a desperately needed outing), the day has pretty much been crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better luck tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-5569049215991249997?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5569049215991249997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5569049215991249997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5569049215991249997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-fun.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-164453876316758365</id><published>2009-08-10T17:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T17:32:12.594-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For once, I'm ridiculously happy that nobody reads my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a lot of best friend troubles, and it's really, really weighing heavily on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have mentioned it before, but after Steph moved back home, she got all kinds of busy.  She's busy with this and busy with that, or she's just unreachable.  Recently she came up to Michigan and stayed for two weeks.  I got to see her for a few hours one of the days.  That was nice, I guess, but considering that we spent most of those few hours talking about what they had been doing during her previous week up there, it really didn't help my situation at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says that nothing is wrong, but we don't talk on the phone anymore.  We hardly text, and she can't seem to even keep a conversation in IM going.  What am I supposed to do?  She sends me texts thrilling about a five hour phone conversation she had with the new guy she likes, and I know that I'm happy for her, but all I can really think is "...and you can't bother to spare me a half hour?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts!  It fucking hurts!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's wrong with me?  What's so wrong with me that she can't even try to keep in contact?  I'm tired of chasing all of my friends around.  I'm tired of being the needy one that can't live without them, when they can quite obviously live quite happily without me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate my job, but I know that it's much more bearable when I have someone on my side that I know cares.  Right now, I feel like she doesn't care.  I don't feel like she cares about how I feel about things (especially this issue), or matters in my life.  That's really hard for me, considering that she really is a priority to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.  I keep trying to tell myself that I'm overreacting, and maybe I am.  But maybe I'm not.  Maybe I'm hitting this nail right on the head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-164453876316758365?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/164453876316758365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/for-once-im-ridiculously-happy-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/164453876316758365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/164453876316758365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/for-once-im-ridiculously-happy-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-8800247194613229036</id><published>2009-07-19T22:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T22:06:27.209-04:00</updated><title type='text'>YIPEEEE!!!</title><content type='html'>I.&lt;br /&gt;AM.&lt;br /&gt;SO.&lt;br /&gt;EXCITED!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allow me to give you the whole story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don’t have many close friends here in Fort Wayne, so I tend to get fairly lonely.  The friends that I do have are good ones, yes, but they have their priorities as well.  I understand that completely, but I still get lonely.  So for a while now, I’ve been praying that God would take away some of my insecurities about meeting new people and open some doors so that I can make some new friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally decided that I would go out on a limb and do something I’d never done before.  I posted an ad on CraigsList in the plutonic section, seeking a new friend.  It was a little strange to start with, and I’m STILL batting away old men looking for “just friends.”  Riiiight. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the midst of the creepy old men, I get an email from a girl named Brenna.  She’s twenty-three and graduated from Ohio State with a BA.  Her husband is active in the Marines and is currently deployed.  Until he comes back next July, she lives alone here in Fort Wayne.  She’s a total bookworm (she works part time at a book store here in town), she loves her dogs, and she’s a CHRISTIAN!!!!  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re still sending mail back and forth, but she said that she hasn’t had luck finding a home church and I’ve already told her about Cedar Creek.  I’m so excited!  I really hope that we can click completely and that my excitement doesn’t scare her off.  She seems pretty down, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m thrilled! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-8800247194613229036?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8800247194613229036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/yipeeee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/8800247194613229036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/8800247194613229036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/yipeeee.html' title='YIPEEEE!!!'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-5943492166143672757</id><published>2009-07-12T00:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T01:00:39.646-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I really feel like I'm growing apart from my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahaha, of course, this is sounding panic alarms everywhere inside my head.  Because hasn't this happened before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, of course.  It happened with Caitlin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(As a disclaimer, I love Caitlin and Kyle very much.  This is in no way a grievance against either of them or their marriage.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before Caitlin got married, we spent a lot of time together.  We had made a deal that we would hang out at least once a week every week until the wedding.  Sometimes we would do wedding stuff, other times just hang out... but ultimately, it really brought us closer together.  She moved to Kentucky to live with Kyle right after they got back from their honeymoon.  I was so miserable. n_x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friendship hasn't been the same since.  I shouldn't really expect it to be, but it does hurt to see what things were, and then look at how things are right now.  After they moved, it was really hard to feel close to her again.  It hurt so much when she left.  It seems easier to just... stay at arm's length, where I could more easily back off, should she (or anyone else close) leave again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling a disconnect with Stephie.  We used to talk so much about so many different things...  Now, conversations I start seem to fizzle out, and she only seems to come to me when she's having a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm frustrated and at a loss.  I guess it doesn't help much that I'm not even going to be able to go to Michigan while she's visiting.  I may as well just sign my best friend rights away to one of the people she's seeing up there.  HAHAHA.  :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go to bed.  Hopefully I'm just reaching out for something to get annoyed with.  Hopefully there's not really a problem, and I'm just making a mountain out of a molehill.  I'm tired.  My head hurts.  I just need sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sad that I have to tell myself every day that happiness is a choice that we make for ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-5943492166143672757?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5943492166143672757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-really-feel-like-im-growing-apart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5943492166143672757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5943492166143672757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-really-feel-like-im-growing-apart.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-2039040852427089943</id><published>2009-07-09T23:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T23:46:37.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>[[  Insert something witty here.  ]]</title><content type='html'>So I can't really decide if I'm happy that people don't read my blog, or if it bugs me that they don't.  Hehe.  There's really nothing here to read.  I just don't really open up my personal life to the internet very much, so it would be fun to get replies.  I guess I should invite more people, then. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rob and I have officially had our first rough patch.  It wasn't really a fight, though, which is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt is back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, every time he comes back around, my judgment goes all wonky.  He's a dear friend, but I don't trust myself around him, and I don't always trust him, either.  Hahaha...  Old feelings are hard to kill.  It seems like every time I think they're gone, he shows back up and proves me wrong.  He and I have been talking some lately, and he let me know that he's really not as into his girlfriend as he should be.  You know... I don't want to be with him.  I'm not interested.  But it really sucks to hear my good friend saying that about the girl he's with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to feeling really guilty about talking to him, though.  Iuno... it's just kind of the way I work, I guess.  At least when it comes to Matt.  I know about my feelings for him, and I know that, if left unchecked, I may do something rash about it.  I've broken up out of guilt before.  Hehe.. :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rob had noticed that I was acting differently, and it really bugged him.  It took me a while to do it, but I ended up telling him that I was talking to Matt, and I explained the long history that we have.  I'm so thankful that Rob is caring, trusting, mature, and open-minded.  If he wasn't, I think that we probably would have fought over this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's the first guy that I've ever been with that's been more concerned for my happiness than his own.  From where I stand, that seems more than a little self-sacrificing, which isn't really necessary.  It feels really good to know that someone cares about me that much that he would do something like that.  I was really at a loss for words, when he was trying to help me sort it out.  He really is amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, it's working.  I've talked to Matt since then, and what I had been feeling was cut back some.  It's not completely gone, but like I think I said...it probably will never be completely gone.  If it doesn't stay casual, though, I need to back out.  Pray for me. XD  None is this is very easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I don't think that I'll be going to see Stephie later this month.  I would really like to, but there's so many necessary things that must be done before I go, and no money to do it with.  Like, I absolutely MUST get my car fixed before I take that drive again.  Without money to do it, though, I can't fix my car.  Therefore, I can't go.  Even if I had the money to fix it (ROFL), I would still need money for the trip.  So once again, I'm up the creek without a paddle. :/  And on top of that is Sarah's wedding here in a bit over a month, and her God-knows-how-many bridal showers beforehand.  The first shower that I know about is actually taking place the weekend that I was planning to go to Michigan.  I didn't receive the invitation until after I'd already decided that I couldn't go, but this is just one more reason that I have to stay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In even MORE other news, after the summer money crunch is over, I think I'm going to buy myself a bike!  I still have my bike, but it's so oooooooold, and not comfortable to ride.  I'm hoping that getting a bike that I can ride around will be motivating. :)  That, and then maybe I can go biking around the River Greenway with Allie and Jeff one day.  That sounds like a lot of fun to me. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm falling asleep at the keyboard.  One more day at work, and then I'm done for the week!!!  :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-2039040852427089943?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2039040852427089943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/insert-something-witty-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/2039040852427089943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/2039040852427089943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/insert-something-witty-here.html' title='[[  Insert something witty here.  ]]'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-798012986181550381</id><published>2009-07-01T23:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T00:03:16.067-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty much just work rant.  A real entry... eventually.  Promise.</title><content type='html'>Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm exhausted, and it's only Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has pretty much been the longest day eveeeerrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked at 6:00 like normal, but the last few days, I've been woken up with text messages around 4:00.  I'll text back and nod off between texts, and there's usually a gap of about an hour where I get a bit of extra sleep before having to actually wake up for work.  Baking felt extra long today, even though I really only did the normal amount.  We got our shipment today, which was a hot mess because the guy that delivered it must have been on crack or something.  Instead of stacking it nicely, it was just a big heap of ugly.  I'm shuddering just thinking about it.  I'm SO happy that I don't have to put it away.  Even though I don't, though, I stressed a bit about that.  And then we spent the whole morning stocking (I'm not kidding when I say that the cooler was next to empty) and doing a huge order for one of the hospitals downtown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the funny part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it's mean that I enjoy people getting in trouble, but really, if they didn't suck so hard, they wouldn't be in trouble in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Schadenfreude&lt;/span&gt;, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike started working at our store about one and a half, two months ago.  I think Chris hired him because he had a competitor sandwich shop as a previous place of employment.  The place he used to work for is called Jimmy John's, and pretty much their big hook is that they're INCREDIBLY FAST.  Even their commercials on the radio are pretty much just of a guy using the super-fast voice that you usually only hear at the end of cell phone or car dealership advertisements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike has been working here for quite a while, and it pisses me to no end that he STILL stands around and does nothing when there is OBVIOUSLY things to do.  He checks his cell phone and texts in front of people, on the clock, and nothing is said to him at all.  I'm sick of being the bitch that tells people what to do.  I KNOW what they should be doing, but I bloody well know that THEY should have the capacity to know as well.  It's not rocket science. :P  You just have to be less of an idiot and get shit done.  *COUGH*  So he'll stand around and it gets on my last nerve, so I tell him what he needs to be doing.  It's ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he went out on a delivery today.  He was supposed to be there at 12:30.  The place is probably fifteen minutes away.  Not far at all, and not hard to find.  Even though his delivery order is sitting there waiting for him, he dinks around and pretty much just stands there, being his idiot self.  At this point, when he should be leaving, he decides to check his order.  Since he hasn't MADE any of it, or GOTTEN ANYTHING FOR IT, he has no IDEA what's done!  EVERYTHING was done and ready for him, but it's HIS responsibility to not only check his order SOONER, and fill anything that WE HAVEN'T GIFT WRAPPED FOR HIM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's getting late, and we pretty much have to shove him out the door.  What a joke.  Even though he swore up and down that he wouldn't be late, he probably gave himself ten minutes to get there, which isn't enough time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get a call from the business at 12:35.  Mike hasn't shown up yet.  Chris promises that he'll be there momentarily, and they accept.  Afterward, he calls Mike up right away.  No answer.  OF COURSE!  He's got his phone in his hand half of the time that he's on the clock, but he mysteriously can't answer it when he's late and Chris needs an answer as to what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They call back at 12:45, and Mike STILL ISN'T THERE.  There's nothing else Chris can do, so he refunds their entire order.  Mike still isn't picking up his phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't leave work until 1:20, and Mike still hadn't returned.  I highly doubt that Chris had even been able to reach him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's where my cheery little bit comes in.  I find it really funny that he used to work for such a SUPER AMAZINGLY FAST place, yet he can't even manage to get out the door and deliver an order on time.  He was originally hired to slice meat in the morning (which he is incredibly slow and fail at) and make deliveries at lunch.  Chris obviously can't trust him to make deliveries.  He would be an idiot to continue to trust him.  And Mike is made of suck and useless in the kitchen.  He can hardly answer phones, his order taking his shoddy at best, and he's ridiculously slow at making food.  He doesn't know how to make half of the stuff, and is continually needing help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does it feel like such a relief, knowing that I had no part at all in his training?  Gosh, that feels nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work rant over.  And now that that's done, it's time for bed.  I have to start this lovely process all over again tomorrow, and UUUUGH.  IT'LL ONLY BE THURSDAY!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-798012986181550381?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/798012986181550381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/pretty-much-just-work-rant-real-entry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/798012986181550381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/798012986181550381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/pretty-much-just-work-rant-real-entry.html' title='Pretty much just work rant.  A real entry... eventually.  Promise.'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-7320619712959712212</id><published>2009-06-28T23:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T23:30:20.244-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just fucking bite me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 11:30.  Shouldn't you be sleeping instead of lecturing me about stupid shit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just go to bed if you're going to be a grouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly I'm the one with the problem, though. :P  Right?  I'M the one always engaging in the confrontations about being fucking snarky, RIGHT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to get out of here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-7320619712959712212?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7320619712959712212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/just-fucking-bite-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7320619712959712212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7320619712959712212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/just-fucking-bite-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-1292732761295021241</id><published>2009-06-22T21:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T23:31:44.827-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"I don't know what a spiderbot is, but I'm hoping that it's something like a Transformer..."</title><content type='html'>Hahaha, I really can't go to /an/ without getting pissed off and leaving.  I know that I go in asking a question about animals, but they're so self-righteous and willing to pass down judgment that I get tired of dealing with their high and mighty bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the reason that I'm asking questions on /an/, 4chan's animals and nature board...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grimm just had her kittens! :D  Right now, we have four healthy little rat-looking things in our garage.  Awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was petting her earlier, though, and I could swear that I feel another kitten inside.  It's bothering me, but I don't think that there's anything I can do.  I noticed this at about 8:30, and she had her other kittens around 4:30-ish.  I remember learning that each kitten has its own sac, so perhaps if there IS still one in there, it might be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't want it to harm Grimm, though.  You know, I care for her, but ultimately, she's an outdoor cat.  I don't have the money to take her to the vet, and I don't see the point in spaying her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm kind of frustrated right now.  I knew that I shouldn't have asked these people any questions.  For being such a fluffy, cuddly board, you can't leave it unscathed if you don't treat your pets better than you would treat children.  That's just ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough about those PETA farts, though!  Rob came to visit me this weekend!  He was here from Saturday morning through this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must have been a very interesting weekend for him.  It sure was eventful for the both of us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he arrived early Saturday morning, we piddled around for a while, wasting time until we could check into the hotel.  Lees Inn is seriously the best, by the way.  Most places won't let you check in until 11:00, and some as late as 3:00 or 4:00 in the afternoon!  Lees lets you check in at 7:00 AM.  AWESOME.  Seriously, I do love this place.  The rooms don't blow you away, but they're always, always clean and stocked.  They have a delicious hot breakfast every day, and I love that every time we check in, the guy at the front desk remembers us. :)  It's neat to see the same people every time you go.  It just shows that they like their jobs as much as we like staying there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We really did a whole lot of nothing all morning, which was pretty nice.  We watched Lord of the Rings: Two Towers, and then I think we watched part of a movie on TV... we watch a lot of movies. Lol.  After that, we went out to Ribfest with Allie and Jeff.  It was nice hanging out with them, because I've been dying for Rob to meet them.  I probably hang out with Allie more than I hang out with anyone else at this point, and I'd been telling her all kinds of things about him.  He was a little more quiet than usual, but he was very friendly, and they all got along really great.  I... don't really remember what we did on Saturday night. o_o  OH.  We went out pretty late and got pizza, then watched part of Pursuit of Happyness on TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up early and nabbed Rob for church after a quick breakfast.  Enjoyed worship, the sermon, and our Sunday class.  I thought it was kind of neat that some of what Eric was saying about our spiritual gifts stuck with Rob.  We were thinking of doing lunch with my folks, but they were going to a place that wasn't going to settle well with either my stomach OR Rob's, so he and I did our own lunch thing.  We did a little running around, and when we got back to the hotel, I crashed out and took a nap.  And that evening, drum roll... he met my grandparents and extended family!  :O  It actually went ridiculously well.  Aside from a couple tiny futz-ups that he couldn't have avoided (my grandma point-blank asked if he voted for Obama, and he didn't lie to her, haha), it went really well. :D  And then, as a final stop, we dropped by Amber and Andrew's to round the night out.  He really seemed to like hanging out with those two. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was pretty chill.  I went over early and ended up just going back to sleep.  After a while, we did manage to drag out of bed and grab some breakfast.  The rest of the morning after that was pretty much spent dawdling around online.  Check out was at noon (another nice thing about Lees), so we went to the dollar movies.  We saw both I Love You, Man, and Monsters vs. Aliens.  After the movies, he came with me as I made a quick return, and then we grabbed some dinner.  I hate dinner on the last day, because it just kind of... feels dull and sad.  It's hard to enjoy the time knowing that I have to send him home soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest is pretty much history. :/  We sat around at the bus stop talking while we waited for it to show up.  We hugged and kissed goodbye, and I waved to him as he got on the bus.  I managed to wait to cry until I was out on the road heading toward home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss him already, but I know I'll see him soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to write more, but I'm just wiped. &gt;_&lt;  I need to go turn the dryer on again, and then I'm hitting the hay.  Good night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-1292732761295021241?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1292732761295021241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-dont-know-what-spiderbot-is-but-im.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1292732761295021241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1292732761295021241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-dont-know-what-spiderbot-is-but-im.html' title='&quot;I don&apos;t know what a spiderbot is, but I&apos;m hoping that it&apos;s something like a Transformer...&quot;'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-6279795875386403518</id><published>2009-06-20T04:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T04:54:41.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Come on... let's get this going......</title><content type='html'>So it's officially 4:40 AM.  If I remember correctly, his bus arrives at something like... 5:15?  5:20?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish that I could be there in time to pick him up, but I'm not going to be able to. :/  I'm going to be late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the whole story is this:  The last time I mentioned Rob to my dad, I got a really negative response.  Since then, I haven't said a word about it.  I think that's fair enough, considering the way I was treated. :P  So I didn't mention that Rob was visiting this weekend.  I know that will come back to bite me in the butt, but...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm an adult.  People I'm close to do not need permission from my parents to visit this city. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a clod, and I feel pretty stuck.  I want to please my parents.  I've wanted that for a long time.  It doesn't seem to matter what I do, though... they refuse to be pleased.  There's always something wrong, and I always mess up somehow.  I've been trying so hard for so long to earn their absolute love, and I know that I still don't have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't please them forever, because in trying so hard to please them, I'm losing myself.  I want my parents to be accepting of the person I'm with as well, but they're never pleased.  We don't see eye to eye.  If I chose someone that they were absolutely smitten with, I would seriously hate the man.  We're different, me and them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm kind of in a spot.  I still want to make them happy.  I know, though, that if I keep on pushing as hard as I have in the past, I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; completely lose touch with my own needs and desires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not willing to compromise my personal needs when it comes to a person I could spend the rest of my life with (generally speaking).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm just sitting here.  Trying so hard to be patient.  I'm dying. XD  I'm hoping that he finishes up within about ten minutes and leaves.  I'll still be late, but not AS late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 1:00 AM, I thought to myself, "HEY!  Let's watch a crappy movie from the '90s!"  So I watched 10 Things I Hate About You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were certain things I liked about it that I didn't remember liking before (*cough*HeathLedger*cough*).  Julia Stiles was okay, too, but the whole premise of the movie was a JOKE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OKAY!  He just left. :D  I'm UP!  I'm getting DRESSED!  And I am L-E-A-V-I-N-G!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-6279795875386403518?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6279795875386403518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/come-on-lets-get-this-going.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6279795875386403518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6279795875386403518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/come-on-lets-get-this-going.html' title='Come on... let&apos;s get this going......'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-1050586226122344088</id><published>2009-06-20T00:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T00:22:02.769-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeeehhh...... :/</title><content type='html'>Bwaaahahahaha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been parked in.  So even though Rob's bus will arrive at the station around 5:20, I'm really not sure at all when I'll even be able to leave the house.  Mom is pretty sure that he's going to work really early, but dang...  I'm going to be so completely frustrated if he doesn't go as early as he should. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chances are that I'll still be waking up before the crack of dawn, and I'll just have to... I dunno.  Get dressed and fart around online for a while until he leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...That really sucks. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to sleep, but I don't feel at all like sleeping alone.  Sheesh.  No choice, though.  Good night, Blogland.  The next time I update, I'll either be anxiously waiting to leave, or I'll already be with Rob. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-1050586226122344088?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1050586226122344088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/feeeehhh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1050586226122344088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1050586226122344088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/feeeehhh.html' title='Feeeehhh...... :/'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-2383869775016338009</id><published>2009-06-19T05:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T05:44:03.902-04:00</updated><title type='text'>D:</title><content type='html'>Noooooooooo, 5:30 AM, I hate you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dreaming that I was on America's Next Top Model! (*snorts*  The last place I belong!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all in swimsuits at this big pool, and a huge stretch limo pulled up to take us all to some rapper's mansion.  I was the most booty-shakin'-est white girl there.  Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But boooo.  It's all perfectly storming outside, so it's perfect for sleeping.  The extra hours are nice, but it's days like this, when I'm sleeping deep and dreaming well (not to mention enjoying sleeping through the storm), and then I have to drag out of bed to get dressed. :(  Time to go to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-2383869775016338009?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2383869775016338009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/2383869775016338009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/2383869775016338009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/d.html' title='D:'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-4222657627834045015</id><published>2009-06-18T23:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T00:10:28.583-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Count Choculitis...  Why did you write that down, Jim?  Is it because you know I love Count Chocula?"</title><content type='html'>So, I swear I won't talk about work this entry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally found shoes to go with my dress!  YES.  ABOUT FREAKING TIME.  Lol.  I really kind of wanted heels, and I found a pair that I really liked.  Too bad the store only had one pair, and it was at least one full size smaller than what I normally wear.  And I couldn't do that to myself. &gt;_&lt;  Lol.  But that's okay.  I poked around the store a little more and found these really cute ballet flats.  They're kind of a rosy pink, and they have a snakeskin pattern to them.  I didn't like that so much at first, but it's really growing on me. :)  And it has a little strap that wraps twice around the ankle.  They're really cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I bought them, I stuffed them in my big purse, and then I went to Plato's Closet.  I swear, this is like... the fourth time I've been there this week.  It's a tad ridiculous.  It's about time to lay off the sauce, I swear...  Haha.  But anyway, I took them in and pretty much held them up to every berry-colored purse I saw until I found one that matched really well.  The purse was brand new (still had the tags on and the paper inside!) and only $5.00!  YAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I didn't leave after just spending five bucks. XD  Dammit.  I found a really great pair of black flats that fit me perfectly, though.  I wear flats every day, and I wear them out.  When I find good ones that are inexpensive and fit my feet nicely... I can't pass that up.  Those were $8.00.  And I found a really great necklace to wear with that dress in the little clearance bin for $2.50.  Wheeeeeee. n__n&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy, this is going to turn into a whole blog about bargain shopping.  Just you watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really, really need to change my diet. :/  I'm not gaining or losing weight, but lately I've just been feeling really sick.  Earlier, I ate lunch and laid down for a while (really tired after work, etc.)  I fell asleep, and when I woke up later, I was just in misery. :/  Hahaha, my stomach hurt so bad.  I've been feeling more gross in the mornings, too.  Usually, my stomach kind of does its grumpy thing, because it seems to think that it wants to eat.  But every time I feed it in the morning, it just makes me nauseous.  So instead of eating and dealing with the queasy, I'd rather just wait out the hunger pangs.  After an hour or so, those go away, and I'm good until like... late afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've trained my body to survive on air, sugar, and food smells at work.  ROFL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling kind of queasy without even eating lately, though.  And the other day, I got smacked with such dizziness that I nearly felt that I would have to sit down to keep from throwing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's a mix of bad diet and just... tossing myself through the mental wringer.  My life isn't horridly stressful right now, if I look at it, but I think I'm being harder on myself and more critical what I do more than ever before. :/  So something's gotta give.  And I think that trying to keep a better eye on what I eat will be an easier thing to change than the way I internally treat myself. lolol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started watching The Office!!!  Okay, I know I'm a couple years behind on the whole fad, but that's okay!  It's been a long time since a TV show has made me laugh so much. :D  I'm only four episodes in, but I'm looking forward to watching a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a couple hours last night talking to Dani.  Dani is Chris' new girlfriend.  Chris and I are still pretty good friends.  He's really taken with Dani, and he's been talking pretty serious about her, even though they've only been together a short time.  I dunno what I think about that, but it's really not my place.  I've hung out with her a good handful of times, but it was always with Chris and Kyle around.  She was fun with them, but I never really felt like we'd been able to get to know each other.  After talking to her so long last night, helping her through some issues with Chris, I feel so much better about her.  I guess I knew that I would like her, but talking to her one on one was really nice.  We swapped cell numbers, and within the next couple weeks, we're going to have a girls only sort of night.  I'm looking forward to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a whole strange dynamic going with all of that, but I'll save it for another entry, another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, the best news of all, Rob is visiting me this weekend. &lt;3  His bus comes in early on Saturday morning, and it looks like he'll probably be staying until Monday.  Looking forward to it, as always.  He'll be meeting Allie and Jeff on Saturday, because we're tagging along with them to Ribfest.  He's also coming to church with me on Sunday. n_n  Bill and Mary were so intrigued with him the last time that they really couldn't wait to have him back again.  And I really can't disagree with them!  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love chatting my face off about unimportant things, but it's best if I get some sleep.  I dreamt last night that, while I was trying to fall asleep, spiders were crawling on me.  I'm not afraid of spiders, but dreaming so vividly that they were crawling on my legs or in my hair made my sleep quite restless.  Tired as I am, my bed feels much more inviting tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-4222657627834045015?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4222657627834045015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/count-choculitis-why-did-you-write-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/4222657627834045015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/4222657627834045015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/count-choculitis-why-did-you-write-that.html' title='&quot;Count Choculitis...  Why did you write that down, Jim?  Is it because you know I love Count Chocula?&quot;'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-5201016296064389961</id><published>2009-06-17T18:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T19:19:51.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Disposable co-workers Part San</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't flat out fire her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has his reasons, I'm sure.  I'm also sure that his reasons are completely stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently he wants to talk to her and find out what her reason was for her no call no show, and I guess he wants to know why she never works the hours she's given, but then complains about needing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know this before, but I found out today that she didn't work Saturday (she didn't want to, mixed with shift leaders being worried that she would come in drunk AGAIN), she didn't work Sunday (called in with a lame excuse), and didn't work Monday (called in and complained that a three hour shift [which is normal for evening workers] was stupid, and that she wasn't coming in for a three hour shift).  Then she just plain didn't show up at all on Tuesday, nor did she call.  Even though she was awake before five in the morning, and was well aware that she was to bake one day this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanda, I'm not your mommy.  Don't text me before five in the morning to ask if you work or not.  Even when I work at six, I'm not up before five.  Or at five, even.  Try five-thirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was supposed to work 5:30-8:30 tonight.  I'm looking forward to going in tomorrow to find out that she didn't show up for this shift, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, whatever.  He didn't schedule her next week, so that either means that he's going to fire her once she gives another lame excuse, that he's going to fire her for not showing up tonight, or that he's going to be punishing her with no hours at all for doing her no call no show act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, but if she was my employee, she would have been fired before she even got a chance to do all this crap.  It's probably a good thing that this isn't my restaurant. n_n)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahahaaaaa, I'm sorry.  I get so side tracked with my stupid co-workers and big dumb manager and pewpy workplace.  Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been thinking lately about taking pictures of all my handbags. o_o  This sounds really dumb, but I actually have a small fanclub. o____o  And they always go oodles of noodles over a new, cool bag.  Bless them all.  So if I start posting weird links at some point, just ignore them if you're not interested. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, do you know how difficult it is to find purple shoes?  Gosh.  Haha!  I might just settle for, like... electric blue. :)  To flesh out this story, I got a really cute dark gray dress.  It's adorable!  ...but it's rather plain.  So I wanted to bump it up with some awesome shoes and (you guessed it) a matching bag.  I thought that purple would look really nice with the gray, but since it's so hard to find purple shoes, I may just settle on blue.  That'll look good, too. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm sure a lot of that was blah-blah-blah-booooring to you guys, I'm off.  I have a lot to clean. &gt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to my new reader(s?), HELLO! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-5201016296064389961?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5201016296064389961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-cant-believe-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5201016296064389961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5201016296064389961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-cant-believe-it.html' title='Disposable co-workers Part San'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-4492342886519189251</id><published>2009-06-16T19:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T20:02:28.699-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Disposable co-workers Part Two</title><content type='html'>So Amanda did a no call, no show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Chris that she had sent me a text before 5:00 this morning, and told him what it had said.  Pretty much the "do you work or do I?" thing.  So that he's aware that she had known she might have had to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also told him that I sent her a text back after I'd woken up, right around 8:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard nothing back from her for the rest of the day, which was fine by me.  It was hard enough to not send her a snarky text asking if she had a nice day off or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like to be so annoyed with people, and I don't like being rude.  But she's really stepped on my toes enough, and I'm ready to tell her to back the eff off. &gt;:(  She's screwed me before, and she'll screw me again, if Chris doesn't nix her.  Not only did I get called in early, but after a hectic, crazy lunch, I had to stay late to bake the bread and make the dough THAT SHE COULDN'T GET HER LAZY BUTT OUT OF BED TO MAKE HERSELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Amanda,&lt;br /&gt;GTFO my place of work.  Not only are you annoying the heck out of me, but you're making me look bad, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks,&lt;br /&gt;Erin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*eyeroll*  At least the day is over, and I can start again tomorrow.  Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And boy, do you know how hard it is to find a nice, inexpensive pair of brown heels?  It's harder than you think! D:  I found two pairs today that I really liked, bu they were muuuuch too big. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-4492342886519189251?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4492342886519189251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/disposable-co-workers-part-two.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/4492342886519189251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/4492342886519189251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/disposable-co-workers-part-two.html' title='Disposable co-workers Part Two'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-2126922457393618636</id><published>2009-06-16T08:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T09:13:07.454-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Disposable co-workers</title><content type='html'>I work at 6:00 every weekday baking bread.  He scheduled me in at 11:00 today so that the other girl could bake.  So why oh why can't I just sleep in?  LOL.  I have no trouble at all doing it on Saturdays!  It's not uncommon for me to sleep until almost noon on a Saturday.  I even stayed up late last night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, six in the morning rolls around, and I wake up on my own.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uuuugh, no.  Too early.  So I go back to sleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Just to wake up again at 8:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahaha, FINE!  So I just stayed up.  I suppose if I really feel like going back to sleep, I can catch a few winks here in a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm blogging again to complain a bit.  Poor blog, full of nothing but complaints and whines.  Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl that Chris (my manager) made me train to bake really sucks.  She's very slow and very inconsistent, but that's not really what I'm concerned with right now.  Her work ethic is just crap, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have seen this coming the first day I worked with her, though.  She was outright complaining about how dirty the store is.  The store &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; dirty.  This is true.  But when we say it around Chris, we know we have to clean.  So we all pretty much got down and did some deep cleaning on the store.  What did Amanda do?  She did some dishes (not deep cleaning, btw) and then stood around.  STOOD AROUND!!  When it was HER idea to clean the store because it's so dirty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I should have known what a colossal flake she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time that I was actually sick, she refused to come in and work for me, even though she was scheduled to come in just a couple hours later.  She's called me with ridiculously outlandish excuses, just to try and get out of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example of outlandish excuse:  She texted me on Sunday and told me that a woman had t-boned her in her mother's car and that she'd messed up her ankle, and was in the hospital, and couldn't come in on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIGHT.  Forgive me if I don't believe your stupid excuses, Amanda.  You can come up with something better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she DIDN'T come in to work on Monday.  Chris worked for her.  But she DID come in to get her check, and I hear she was walking just fine. :P  The next time I saw her, I was going to offer to bake for her on Saturday, if her ankle was still bothering her.  But she was just fine then, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those doctors must really work miracles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This just reminds me of how much I hate it when people lie about things that can be so easily discovered?  Like if Chris had told her to bring him a note from her doctor at the hospital, she would have been screwed.  I wish he would have done that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing:  She came into work drunk on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me repeat that.  SHE CAME IN TO WORK THE BAKING SHIFT DRUNK ON SATURDAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEWS FLASH, AMANDA.  YOU CAN NOT DRINK ALL NIGHT LONG AND STOP AT 4:00 AM AND EXPECT TO BE GOLDEN BY 6:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This made me really, really mad.  I bake all week long, so regardless of the fact that the Saturday baker is not me (I have weekends off), their product is reflected on me.  Her bread was a mess, and she got the measurements wrong.  So on top of being a mess, it tasted like crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That makes me so mad.  Anywhere else... ANYWHERE ELSE... you would be fired on the spot for that.  I don't think Chris knows, but I want one of the girls that was there to tell him.  If he knows and hasn't fired her, though...  Then I really don't know what his problem is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final straw was this morning.  I didn't wake up for it, but I got a text from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Jun 16, 2009  4:53:23 AM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey do you work today at 6 or do i?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time she sent it tells me that she hadn't even gone to bed yet.  She's so irresponsible. &gt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaaaaand I got a call just now from my manager.  I didn't ask him if Amanda had shown up or not, but he asked me to come in an hour early.  I baked enough yesterday that if she didn't show up, we would be fine.  (Thankfully.  I would hate to come in and have to bake around everybody working on this or that.)  But if he's asking me to come in early, we're either really busy (on a Tuesday?  Sooooo unlikely), or someone called in (*cough*Amanda*cough*) or didn't even show up (*cough*AMANDAAMANDAAMANDAAMANDA!!!!*cough*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess we'll see. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-2126922457393618636?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2126922457393618636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/disposable-co-workers.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/2126922457393618636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/2126922457393618636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/disposable-co-workers.html' title='Disposable co-workers'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-6193484381178665630</id><published>2009-06-14T23:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T23:34:12.249-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My life is sunshine, lollipops and rainbows....</title><content type='html'>.....okay, not really. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a pretty laid back weekend.  It's been pretty nice. :)  The only complaint I have is that it isn't any longer than it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the meltdown I had on Thursday, Rob decided that he would slap together a trip to come over and see me.  It was too soon for him to visit over this weekend, so he's planning to come see me next weekend.  I'm really looking forward to it.  I feel a teeny bit silly, but there's some times that I just miss him so much. :(  Part of what made Thursday's episode so hard was that I just desperately wanted him there with me.  Like I knew that everything would work out and be okay, as long as he was there with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I'm really looking forward to this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of strange...  I feel like I have more friends now than I ever have before, but at the same time, I feel more disconnected than ever, sometimes.  It's like I have all of these friends, but all of my closest friends are really far away.  That, or they're just not the... hug you when you're hurting kinds of friends.  That's a little tough for me.  Sometimes all I really need is a tight hug, a word of assurance, and maybe a little cry to go with it.  I don't get that.  I don't even get that from my mother.  Hahahaha......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XD  I need to pull out of this.  If I keep thinking, I'll get back into a slump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out with Allie on Saturday to an art fair downtown.  It was pretty neat, actually.  There were a lot of interesting pieces and plenty that, if I were filthy rich, I would have bought.  Unfortunately, though, I am not.  Lol.  It was a fun experience, though, and now I'm looking forward to Three Rivers Festival, so that I can see some of the artists' work again, and go to the Chalk Walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we were done there, we drove back to Lakeside Park.  There are rose bushes EVERYWHERE at the park, and they're all in full bloom.  It's truly a beautiful sight, all of the numerous varieties and stunning colors all around you.  There's also a splendid place there for weddings.  I'm sure that everyone and their mother would love to get married there, but it really is a lovely setting.  I'll have to take pictures the next time I go down there.  If the roses are still in bloom, I might even take Rob this weekend. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were done sniffing roses and dodging wedding parties taking pictures (there were probably three bridal parties there taking pictures around the park!  One of them had just been married right there!), we went down to Hyde Brothers to search out some books.  I didn't really find anything that I wanted, but Allie found another book for her collection. :D &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late Sunday night, which means that I'm looking forward to another week of work.  I really wish that I worked somewhere that didn't just feel like a job.  I want a career, but even with two degrees, I still don't feel like I know where I'm going, and I still don't feel like I'm where I need to be yet.  Boy, what a mess.  Hahaha....... D:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like Blogger has a scheduled outage this evening, though, so I'll wrap this up right now.  Good night. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-6193484381178665630?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6193484381178665630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-life-is-sunshine-lollipops-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6193484381178665630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6193484381178665630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-life-is-sunshine-lollipops-and.html' title='My life is sunshine, lollipops and rainbows....'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-1292311221255446083</id><published>2009-06-11T15:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T16:04:13.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad...</title><content type='html'>Out of the clear blue, melancholy hit me like a train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what to do...  I'm talking to Rob, and that helps a little, but I don't even really know WHY all of this is hitting me at once, let alone how to fix it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to let it run its course, but while I wait for that, I just want to cry.  It's weird.  I know what's bothering me, but why it all just dumped on me... who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray for some sanity.  And that my brother's game doesn't get rained out.  A distraction from this state of mind would be more than welcome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-1292311221255446083?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1292311221255446083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-find-it-kind-of-funny-i-find-it-kind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1292311221255446083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1292311221255446083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-find-it-kind-of-funny-i-find-it-kind.html' title='I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad...'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-3845078273747595115</id><published>2009-06-08T22:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T22:57:30.648-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, tell me you're here, that you will watch over me forever....</title><content type='html'>It's been so long since I've updated about anything of substance.  Heck...  It's been a couple weeks since I've even updated.  What happened to writing every day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That went by the wayside.  Hahaha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta be honest, my life really isn't interesting enough to update about every day.  I feel bad for the few (the proud, the Marines) that have kept up with my boring life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the last time I updated about his visits, Rob has come to visit me twice.  He should be coming back to visit me again fairly soon as well. :)  Neither of us are entirely sure, but I think he's looking at sometime later in June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blaaaah, boring liiiiiife~  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even want to update anymore.  Lol.  Maybe later. XD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-3845078273747595115?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3845078273747595115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/oh-tell-me-youre-here-that-you-will.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3845078273747595115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3845078273747595115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/oh-tell-me-youre-here-that-you-will.html' title='Oh, tell me you&apos;re here, that you will watch over me forever....'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-3896162969481723973</id><published>2009-05-20T23:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:28:45.538-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So apparently my dad "doesn't know what to think about me anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, he thinks I'm very selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......... All of this stemmed from caring for another person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand what he wants from me!  Why does he have a problem?  Because Robert is "different" than us?  Knowing the way my family is, that comes to the forefront of my mind.  And clearly it's terribly selfish of me to want to be with someone I care for, rather than stay with someone that I'm unhappy with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just in a position where I just don't get it.  They were okay with Kyle, but it didn't take long to figure out that they didn't care much for him.  They haven't liked any other guy I've dated.  I understand this, but they haven't even had the chance yet to GIVE Rob a chance, and he's already being shot down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand.  What they think is very important to me.  I'm not going to pretend to be one of those people that just doesn't care.  I do!  I don't just willy nilly pick people that I want to spend time with.  I try to choose them carefully.  I want my parents to understand that I don't just close my eyes and spin around and point blindly in hopes that whoever I'm pointing at might be "the one."  I love my family, and their feelings on the person I'm with matter to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts me, though, that such a swift judgment was passed down.  It hurts me even more to know that he "just doesn't know what to think of you" anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying so, so hard to be the good person that I stopped being for a few years.  I do so much with my family, and I thought that I was closer to them than ever.  I guess not, though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It kills me that he was so willing to rip that comfort away from me when he could have so simply avoided the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this just hurts.  A lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-3896162969481723973?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3896162969481723973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-apparently-my-dad-doesnt-know-what.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3896162969481723973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3896162969481723973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-apparently-my-dad-doesnt-know-what.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-7989564969275760815</id><published>2009-05-11T23:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T00:10:26.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Near to You</title><content type='html'>I love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love with Robert Hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew how I felt about him very early on, but it was hard for me to admit it to myself.  I never felt uncertain of him, or his feelings for me.  I was more worried about the way my own feelings had reacted.  I felt a mixture of not knowing if I trusted their validity, and just being so worried that I was attaching just because I felt I'd cut myself to the breeze, when I broke off with Kyle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a while to realize that part of the reason that I left Kyle was because of the connection that I was making with Robert.  Part of the reason that I knew Kyle wasn't treating me the way I thought I should be treated was because Robert was doing so flawlessly.  And not because he wanted something from me.  He holds me highly because he believes that I deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're together.  I guess we've officially been together since he came to visit me in April.  Technically, we've been together even longer.  It's strange to think that it's been such a short time.  We've been friends for several months now, but I feel like I've known him for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His last visit was just was wonderful as the first, and he'll be here again at the end of next week.  It feels so nice, being with someone that's actually proactive about seeing me.  He knows that I'm unable to come to him, so he comes to me, even though it puts him out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much more to update about, but again, it will have to wait.  This was too important to hold in any longer.  I just needed to tell people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-7989564969275760815?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7989564969275760815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/near-to-you.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7989564969275760815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7989564969275760815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/near-to-you.html' title='Near to You'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-9129535504744772339</id><published>2009-05-08T12:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T14:54:01.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Bag:  GUCCI!!!  And worth every penny!"</title><content type='html'>I really have a lot to update about.  It's been too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a tiny placeholder, though, I would like to say how pleased I am with Goodwill right now.  Sometimes people drop really nice, expensive purses into the Goodwill bin, and then Goodwill snatches them up, prices them fairly, and puts them in a display that you have to ask to have opened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just poking through the racks of purses today to see if I could find something cute, and &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;goodness.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a classy, black Gucci purse on the rack!!!!!! :O  I had to actually check it out to make sure it wasn't fake. lol  But it was real, and that was sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I took it up to the counter, the girl asked if there were any tags in it, and I said no, that I found it on the rack.  So she gave it a second check through and then rung it up for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$2.14.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a beautiful, classic, (practically) brand new Gucci bag for $2.14.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FREIOJFWA;IOFWA;IOJ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1  :D  :D  :D  :D!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, after the week I've had, this steal almost completely made up for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, a real entry later.  Just had to share my cool find!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-9129535504744772339?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9129535504744772339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/bag-gucci-and-worth-every-penny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/9129535504744772339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/9129535504744772339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/bag-gucci-and-worth-every-penny.html' title='&quot;Bag:  GUCCI!!!  And worth every penny!&quot;'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-7775880694494449127</id><published>2009-04-19T21:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T21:52:15.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The first name I'm going to call is........</title><content type='html'>Today was pretty much the most boring day ever. XD  Wow, I did nothing at all today, and it was terrible.  Honestly, the most fun I had today was reading for a while, and then watching America's Next Top Model.  OUCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the Skillet/Disciple/Decyfer Down show was pretty good.  Not my favorite show ever, but still pretty rockin'.  I don't know...  It's kind of strange to go to shows like that, where most of the fans are a bit younger.  I felt really old, and almost like I didn't belong.  It's strange to feel that way, when I rightly know that I've been in that scene longer, and therefore, it's somewhat more mine than theirs. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prime example:  At one point, God bless whoever did it, one of the sound guys played "One Time" by Earthsuit.  The whole group behind us was bending their brains, trying to figure out who the group was.  I finally turned around and told them, but until I did, it was just kind of a frustrating wake-up call.  I saw Earthsuit (and .rod Laver, and The Benjamin Gate [before the lead split off and became the artist Adie, wife of Jeremy Camp]) ages ago out at The Wreck in Kendalville.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels a little strange, but I also feel very lucky to have seen all the groups I have.  In my life, I oftentimes feel like I don't have a story.  At least when it comes to the music I listen to, I have plenty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't tell if this week is going to go fast or slow.  Rob will be here this weekend, and I'm just dying to see him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work all week, so hopefully the time will pass quickly.  He was supposed to be here Friday-Sunday, but when he couldn't get Friday off, he switched to Saturday-Monday.  I had already taken Friday off, so I asked if I could switch my day off from this Friday to next Monday.  My boss is cool with me taking Monday off (which is really a Godsend, considering that week is going to be CRAZY BUSY UGH), but he said he couldn't really give my hours back on Friday.  He suggested that I come in for the lunch shift, though, which could turn out to be pretty nice.  Man, something like a 10:00-1:00 or 2:00 shift on Friday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SLEEPING IN?!  WHAT'S THAT!?!?!  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a few hours, but it would feel so great to come in late like that, just get the GM order ready, and leave again.  I've never been able to do that before...  It's always been "get to work at 6:00, work your butt off, and then leave in a hurry for the factory."  I'm really looking forward to this Friday, if that's the way things are going to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he's coming to church with me on Sunday. :D  Quite pleased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll go paint my nails and watch some more ANTM before bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid, addictive show. n_n&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-7775880694494449127?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7775880694494449127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/first-name-im-going-to-call-is.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7775880694494449127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7775880694494449127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/first-name-im-going-to-call-is.html' title='The first name I&apos;m going to call is........'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-3096926731452958657</id><published>2009-04-16T23:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T00:16:58.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish that life had a snooze button....</title><content type='html'>...there are definitely times that I would like to just sleep on through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a few days.  I should really be going to bed soon (ergh... should have been in bed a half hour ago, for complete beauty sleep, lol), but stuuuuuff is going on, so I want to at least make a quick update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comatose Tour is tomorrow! :D  I'm super excited.  It's only Thursday night, and I seriously can't wait for work to be over and done with tomorrow!!  Lol!!  I'm meeting Mindy at the church around 4:15, and we're driving down to Indy.  It's going to take about 2.5 hours, and the show starts at seven. :/  We're going to be cutting it a little close, but maybe we can drive fast. XD  Or maybe Mapquest is wrong!  lololol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, I'm massively excited. n_n&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also really happy that a certain, unwelcome visitor is (mostly) gone. ;)  ABOUT TIME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been tolerable, and I've been doing pretty well selling my lunches, so... go me.  I was pretty darn sure one of my co-workers was going to get fired today, though.  She's pretty much up to her eyeballs in it.  Who knows what'll happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of, though, I was talking to Kyle today.  At one point, I asked him if Chris was off of his suspension at work yet.  Kyle then revealed that both he and Chris were fired today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How you get fired from a crappy sales job where you work with nothing but underhanded, sleazy weasels is beyond me. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, now they're both out of a job.  Great.  And I'm pretty sure that Kyle's fairly mad at me, because at one point in our conversation, I told him that I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen something like that coming.  He got really defensive and said that nobody saw it coming, so he didn't know how I could have possibly seen it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, for starters, I'm not a big, stupid boy. :P  LOL  But honestly... they sold Verizon services, but the company itself was so shady.  They hyped themselves up so huge that everyone believed the nonsense that they were continually spewing.  It was ridiculous, and after considering things they'd told me and overhearing long-winded conference calls that the boys were on, I just knew it was a matter of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kyle says he got it for the same reason Chris did, but he didn't really elaborate.  Considering the two of them and the other guy they chopped, I have a feeling that they were just pruning the vine, if you will. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I don't know what their plans are right now.  Kyle and Chris were supposed to get an apartment and room together come May, but if neither of them has any money, they certainly can't do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kyle even went so far as to make a comment like, "Well, I was only planning to stay there until one of my apps got accepted."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LIAR. Ugh, I HATE it when people lie to me!!!  That's so much crap, and we both know it.  Even when I broke up with him, he told me he would take a different job if it made me stay, but that he loved his job, and didn't want to leave it.  So I told him to just keep the job. :P  He had no intention at all of leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, he said that he has two applications in.  The first was at Wells Fargo.  He placed this one before he even got the sales job (and he got the job in December).  He was turned down by Wells Fargo before he started sales.  Did he forget?  He also said that he applied at Parkview.  Y'know, that's all fine and dandy.  He has experience working in a hospital.  But who, pray tell, is going to take him to work?  He can't walk to Parkview, and he doesn't seem to be capable of riding the bus. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaarrrughfewjiofwa, I can't help it!!!!!  We're not even together, and the way he handles things in his life STILL drives me up-the-wall crazy.  It's probably good that we're not together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also hung out with Allie tonight.  Jeff made dinner, and I had wax beans for the first time.  As far as I'm concerned, they're just albino green beans. :P  Allie insists that they're different, though.  We watched The Corpse Bride for the first time.  After seeing Coraline a few days ago, I was looking forward to watching something else by Tim Burton.  Corpse Bride really didn't do it for me, though.  At least Coraline was good. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaand, last but not least, I got my hair cut today. :D  Rob was a little sad when I told him that I was going short, but I hope that he can still like it. n_n&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SegCXtpzcuI/AAAAAAAAABE/sC0AxTuYHVM/s1600-h/04-16-09_1614.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SegCXtpzcuI/AAAAAAAAABE/sC0AxTuYHVM/s320/04-16-09_1614.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325509165780792034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a wee bit shorter in the back, but it's really cute!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so sleepy...!  Good night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-3096926731452958657?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3096926731452958657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-wish-that-life-had-snooze-button.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3096926731452958657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3096926731452958657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-wish-that-life-had-snooze-button.html' title='I wish that life had a snooze button....'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SegCXtpzcuI/AAAAAAAAABE/sC0AxTuYHVM/s72-c/04-16-09_1614.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-3949907915072110468</id><published>2009-04-12T22:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T23:55:20.781-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Gosh, I'm sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kyle wanted to come to church this morning, and despite my feelings and the general desire to not have to see him, I couldn't deny him the right to go to church. :P  So I woke up early and picked him up.  The whole ride back to Leo, he talked about his job.  He knows that I detest his job, so I don't really understand what he was trying to do there.  I still think that he's pretty sure that we'll be getting back together at some point, and that my breaking up with him was just my taking a break to sort my thoughts.  ...It's not.  If he still thinks that, though, I don't know where he gets off thinking that talking about one of the subjects that I absolutely loathe would really make me swoon for him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There should be an emoticon for eye rolling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to church, I was pumped up for an awesome Easter service!  ...................until I found out that it was second Sunday, which meant that I was stuck in the two's and three's!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;feiojwef;iojfhiuwhfioawejf;awjf;oawjf;owjaf;iojwae;f~!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost cried.  I can't lie to you.  Walking into that room of seven toddlers when all I wanted to do was praise and worship was the hardest thing I had to do all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm sort of at a breaking point with this.  I only do it one Sunday a month, so it wouldn't be hard to replace me.  Is it right to tell Kim that I don't want to do it anymore, though?  There are people that could do it much better than me.  Most of the time that I spend in there, all I want to do is get out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My replacement didn't show up, either.  Nice that someone knew about that, right? :P  Her aid came into the classroom, and it seemed like she was going to leave, because the main teacher wasn't there.  I just kind of blinked and pulled her back in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry.  Kids are great, but I already missed an amazing Easter service because of the little rats.  I wasn't going to miss our college age class, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to class, it was already starting.  Nobody had gotten water or anything (apparently I'm the only one that can do it. :P), and since class was starting, the stuff that I had worked hard making on Saturday pretty much went to waste, because onlya bout two people ate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gooooosh, what a morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To save time and gas, I decided that it would be alright if Kyle just ate with my family instead of my having to take him all the way back to his apartment and come all the way back to where we were getting together.  That was alright, I guess, but it was weird.  The whole time with him was weird.  I made one wrong, off-hand comment in the car on the way there, and he got grumpy about it.  Soooorry, didn't mean to. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nanny and Vic are hard to impress.  It's just the way they are.  When we left, Kyle made some comment about how he didn't think that Vic liked him much.  I told him that he's like that with everyone, but I was still wondering why he really thought Vic's reaction to him was really a concern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't say it aloud, but thinking that might have been a little cruel. :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had originally planned to spend more time in the afternoon with Kyle, but things were so awkward that I just had to get away.  Allie saved me, and I went to her place to hang out and watch a movie.  That was very relaxing, and I nodded off after it was over, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the evening was relatively uneventful.  I came home, moaned for a while about the fact that I was dead tired, but it was too early to sleep and too late to nap.  I messed around online, talked to some friends, and ultimately just ended up hanging in the living room with my brother, watching America's Next Top Model on Oxygen while my brother played video games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have pandar-bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SeK3l2AKfmI/AAAAAAAAAA0/35lObaQSe1I/s1600-h/1239561120450.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SeK3l2AKfmI/AAAAAAAAAA0/35lObaQSe1I/s320/1239561120450.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324019570284592738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-3949907915072110468?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3949907915072110468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/gosh-im-sleepy.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3949907915072110468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3949907915072110468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/gosh-im-sleepy.html' title=''/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SeK3l2AKfmI/AAAAAAAAAA0/35lObaQSe1I/s72-c/1239561120450.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-5217262591149746751</id><published>2009-04-11T23:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T00:06:34.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OH I FORGOT!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOW COULD I FORGET THE COOLEST NEWS EVER?!?!?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;I'M GOING TO THE COMATOSE TOUR!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SeFoLsvweJI/AAAAAAAAAAs/OScKL-kytBw/s1600-h/skillet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SeFoLsvweJI/AAAAAAAAAAs/OScKL-kytBw/s320/skillet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323650784727955602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Friday, 7:00, Indianapolis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen both Skillet and Decyfer Down before, but I've never seen Disciple, and I'm dying to!  Skillet puts on an amazing show, and after I saw them the first time, I knew that I HAD to see them again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-5217262591149746751?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5217262591149746751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-i-forgot.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5217262591149746751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5217262591149746751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-i-forgot.html' title='OH I FORGOT!!!!'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SeFoLsvweJI/AAAAAAAAAAs/OScKL-kytBw/s72-c/skillet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-3137637405159730611</id><published>2009-04-11T22:59:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T21:30:35.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Would you swim in an integrated pool?"</title><content type='html'>"I sure would!  I'm all for integration.  It's the new frontier!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple days have been pretty fun. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, I knew that I had to wake up earlier than usual for work, so I had planned to go to bed early.  However, I had also planned to color my hair.  My mum helps me with that, though, and she wasn't ready until right about the time I was going to turn in for the night.  LOL.  So the sensible decision would have been to forget the color and just go to bed.  Thankfully, I'm not usually very reasonable, so now my hair is the gorgeous, dark, rich color I like. &lt;3  While I waited for the color to set, I watched Hairspray (hence the quote)!  Every time I watch it, I remember how much I love that movie.  The music is great, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I wrote a really long section here about work, but then Blogger deleted it.  I've been having problems with that lately.  :/ .  I don't know... the extra hours are nice, but I really just wanted to start my weekend early.  Thankfully, he still sent me home early, and I got to enjoy my rainy afternoon, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to our church's Good Friday service last night.  I don't believe I've ever been to one before.  I thought that it would be in the FLC where we hold all the services, but instead, they put everyone in the old sanctuary.  Thing is, the old sanctuary is now split into two rooms.  One for Pulse and the youth group, and the other for the childrens' ministry.  (That makes me a little sad, I guess.  I always imagined getting married in that sanctuary, but I'm glad that it's being rused now, rather than sitting empty like it was.)  There were SO many people there!  The whole place was packed full, so there were even people standing in the back.  The intimiate experience was better than having everyone spread out all over the FLC, though.  It was very nice. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the service, I went over to Mindy Meyer's with Bekka and Alex to watch a movie.  We decided on Moulin Rouge.  It was nice to see that again, but it wasn't as fun as Hairspray! :D  The real star of the evening for me was Mindy's dog. o_O  Which you'll likely never hear me say again.  I'm really not a dog person... usually can't stand 'em.  Nico was different, though.  Right when she said what he was (a samoyed), I thought she said "samurai."  LOL.  So right off the bat, I got along with him.  He was fun and kind of an attention whore, and loyal without being a pain.  So while Bekka and Alex snuggled during the movie, Nico snuggled up next to me while I watched and petted him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt; get a dog one day, I hope that it's like that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting a little turned around in really, really dark Amish country at night (which is actually pretty creepy! D: ), I made it home.  I only stayed up a while, though.  I kept drifting off while in the middle of having conversations with people.  What a mess, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up earlyish this morning to start baking.  Within a couple hours, I baked a cookies and cream cake, miniature black forest cheesecakes, and chocolate chip peanut butter cookie bars.  All of it is quite delicious. &lt;3333&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote another big section here about going to my grandparents' house.  They're going to make us hunt eggs.  &gt;_&lt;  I'd be happy to shelve that tradition until I have kids of my own.  There's really not a lot going on tomorrow, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church in the morning, then lunch afterwards with Nanny and Vic.  I told Kyle that I would pick him up in the morning so that he could come to church with us.  I get the feeling that things are going to be weird, but I can't really just let him be alone on Easter. :/ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we'll see.  It's quite a bit later than I thought, though, so it's bed for me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just leave this here.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SePmxAXn8JI/AAAAAAAAAA8/1w_S0AVx8lA/s1600-h/04-05-09_1759.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SePmxAXn8JI/AAAAAAAAAA8/1w_S0AVx8lA/s320/04-05-09_1759.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324352914069123218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-3137637405159730611?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3137637405159730611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/would-you-swim-in-integrated-pool.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3137637405159730611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/3137637405159730611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/would-you-swim-in-integrated-pool.html' title='&quot;Would you swim in an integrated pool?&quot;'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/SePmxAXn8JI/AAAAAAAAAA8/1w_S0AVx8lA/s72-c/04-05-09_1759.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-7594836044125623828</id><published>2009-04-10T00:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T00:20:44.138-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And, just for fun.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your view on yourself:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label1"&gt;Other people find you very interesting, but you are really hiding your true self. Your friends love you because you are a good listener. They'll probably still love you if you learn to be yourself with them.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;The type of girlfriend/boyfriend you are looking for:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label2"&gt;You are a true romantic. When you are in love, you will do anything and everything to keep your love true.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your readiness to commit to a relationship:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label3"&gt;You are ready to commit as soon as you meet the right person. And you believe you will pretty much know as soon as you might that person.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;The seriousness of your love:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label4"&gt;You are very serious about relationships and aren't interested in wasting time with people you don't really like. If you meet the right person, you will fall deeply and beautifully in love.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your views on education&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label5"&gt;Education is less important than the real world out there, away from the classroom. Deep inside you want to start working, earning money and living on your own.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;The right job for you:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label6"&gt;You're a practical person and will choose a secure job with a steady income. Knowing what you like to do is important. Find a regular job doing just that and you'll be set for life.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;How do you view success:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label7"&gt;Success in your career is not the most important thing in life. You are content with what you have and think that being with someone you love is more than spending all of your precious time just working.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;What are you most afraid of:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label8"&gt;You are afraid of things that you cannot control. Sometimes you show your anger to cover up how you feel.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Who is your true self:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span id="Label9"&gt;You are mature, reasonable, honest and give good advice. People ask for your comments on all sorts of different issues. Sometimes you might find yourself in a dilemma when trapped with a problem, which your heart rather than your head needs to solve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found here:  http://www.quizbox.com/personality/test82.aspx&lt;br /&gt;Courtesy of:  V, a friend on Livejournal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-7594836044125623828?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7594836044125623828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-just-for-fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7594836044125623828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7594836044125623828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-just-for-fun.html' title='And, just for fun.'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-6485511189708690310</id><published>2009-04-09T18:54:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T19:49:35.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a jumble...</title><content type='html'>I made the mistake of reading up some on natural birthing.  Oh goodness... :(  I don't know how people do it.  Giving birth seems like a gross enough process to begin with, let alone having to do it in a home environment with no drugs (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no drugs!!!&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also read that a bunch of these hippies keep their placentas (http://gallery.hd.org/_exhibits/medicine/_more2005/_more12/placenta-human-after-birth-4-DHD.jpg) and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;consume them&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OKAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that animals do it.  But animals don't know any better, and they really don't have any other way of nourishing themselves quickly after something strenuous like giving birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're human beings, though! D:  It's not a necessary process!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  I learned how to make powdered placenta pills, too.  http://community.livejournal.com/naturalbirth/912000.html#cutid2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the freaks that don't eat their after birth still take it home with them.  Baby in one hand, placenta in the other, lol.  I guess some other things people do with them is plant them with new trees (a "tree of life."  Damn hippies) or let it dry out and then keep it in a special box (...ew).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, enough with the placenta talk.  It's gross. :&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to admit something a little shameful here.  It was only sort of intentional, but...  I read a couple books within the last month or so that can only be described as "chick lit."  *collective shudder*  I know how scary it is.  Please don't be afraid.  I'll hold your hand.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Confessions of a Shopaholic &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Devil Wears Prada&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Confessions of a Shopaholic&lt;/span&gt; was actually a relatively cute book.  It was pretty fun to read, but a little scary, as I found myself relating to the main character.  I would read it again, though, and I plan on reading some of Sophie Kinsella's other books as well, just so that I can savor more of that inner monologue that she's quite good at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Devil Wears Prada&lt;/span&gt;, on the other hand, was a lot more lame than I'd expected.  It was really hard to get into.  It was difficult to continue reading at the end of a chapter, knowing that more of the same old crap was coming.  When I finished reading it, I actually closed the book, stared down at it for several moments, and wondered why the heck I had labored through my favorite used bookstore to find a copy of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the part that I don't understand.  Chick lit is fanciful, frivilous, and literally boundless in its pointlessness.  So why on earth can't they just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;follow the book when the make the movie?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Devil Wears Prada&lt;/span&gt; was NOTHING like the book!  NOTHING AT ALL!!!!  I didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed.  The movie may have been better, but I hate it when the people making the movie won't follow the book.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Confessions of a Shopaholic&lt;/span&gt; wasn't awful, as far as chick flicks go, but they managed to royally fudge that one up, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Devil&lt;/span&gt; aside, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shopaholic&lt;/span&gt; was at least a charming and fun read!  Why couldn't they keep it that way for the movie? :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/Sd6InKg3VYI/AAAAAAAAAAc/qTXFLJhY7Ek/s1600-h/confessions+of+a+shopaholic+contest+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/Sd6InKg3VYI/AAAAAAAAAAc/qTXFLJhY7Ek/s320/confessions+of+a+shopaholic+contest+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322842016016979330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yeah, but Isla Fisher is pretty much adorable. :D&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-6485511189708690310?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6485511189708690310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-jumble.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6485511189708690310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6485511189708690310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-jumble.html' title='Just a jumble...'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/Sd6InKg3VYI/AAAAAAAAAAc/qTXFLJhY7Ek/s72-c/confessions+of+a+shopaholic+contest+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-2784487696826558558</id><published>2009-04-09T00:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T00:28:14.083-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Freakish</title><content type='html'>You know how they say that everyone has a twin somewhere out there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may have found mind. o_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I look at it, though, the more I wonder if we actually look alike, or if I just like the way she looks so much that I'd enjoy looking more like her.  (And considering that I think we're pretty darn similar, it seems like it would be cake to pull off.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v506/XxManifestDestinyxX/l_c3ced6339979b4a9afee022db0aae34c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 338px; height: 253px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v506/XxManifestDestinyxX/l_c3ced6339979b4a9afee022db0aae34c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/Sd15CEchyeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/X49UXIbzMm0/s1600-h/Nicole054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 346px; height: 259px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/Sd15CEchyeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/X49UXIbzMm0/s200/Nicole054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322543411081890274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We could be related!  lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-2784487696826558558?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2784487696826558558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/freakish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/2784487696826558558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/2784487696826558558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/freakish.html' title='Freakish'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/Sd15CEchyeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/X49UXIbzMm0/s72-c/Nicole054.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-8296300048491977271</id><published>2009-04-08T00:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T00:13:56.268-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty much the worst feeling ever</title><content type='html'>I hate saying goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very few other things in my life make me feel so downtrodden and alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-8296300048491977271?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8296300048491977271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/pretty-much-worst-feeling-ever.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/8296300048491977271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/8296300048491977271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/pretty-much-worst-feeling-ever.html' title='Pretty much the worst feeling ever'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-6937498936807148853</id><published>2009-04-05T22:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T23:26:07.474-04:00</updated><title type='text'>*sigh*</title><content type='html'>So, this weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a lovely weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At midnight on Friday, my good friend Robert from Chicago boarded a bus destined to pass through Fort Wayne, and at a quarter after five on Saturday morning, I pulled into my city's only Greyhound station to pick him up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent Friday evening with my grandparents and Laura, my cousin.  We went to a crowded restaurant in Spencerville, a re-opened greasy spoon type of place.  After dinner, we went back to Laura's house and played cards and dominoes until it was quite late.  When my grandpa and grandma dropped me off at home again, I really just wanted to go to sleep.  I had plenty of things left to do, though.  After straightening up the house and thoroughly cleaning my room, I finally took a shower and dropped into bed.  This was around 2:30 AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though my alarm was supposed to go off at 4:20 AM, I didn't actually wake up until 4:40 AM.  Chances were that I slept through the first time. D:  Either way, it meant that I only had a few minutes to get everything around before I had to leave.  Thankfully, I had set everything aside that I wanted before I'd gone to sleep the night before.  Dressing quickly, I hurried out in hopes of beating the bus there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I didn't.  And of course, I managed to turn the wrong way down a one way street (the SAME one way street, mind you).  I did that twice. :(  Within ten minutes of one another.  Ouch.  Thankfully, I didn't die.  When I arrived at the station, Rob was already waiting outside for me.  Oddly enough, I knew that we were going to get along just fine the moment I saw him.  The bag that sat on the ground next to him was so huge and packed so full that I would have honestly thought he was staying the entire week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met Rob (and a lot of my friends) through a writing group online.  Since November, he and I have been writing together quite a bit.  There are very few people in the group that I really feel that I write well with.  He and I share an almost flawless give and take, when it comes to the things we create.  While we're extremely loyal to our characters' very different personalities, the two of them get along well enough, and have formed a strange, unshakable bond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike Take and Nine, Rob and I get along extremely well because we're quite similar people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the first thing we wanted to do was check him into the hotel he'd booked and ditch his stuff, it was too early to check in.  With an hour and a half on our hands to blow before we could even get his room, we went out to (oh, heaven help me) IHOP.  After being on the bus so long and not having eaten beforehand, he ordered breakfast.  I was so excited and anxious still that I could hardly manage to even eat the hash browns I ordered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that I happen to like Rob?  If it wasn't already painfully obvious, here's spelling it out for you. :)  It's kind of a frustrating subject for me.  Not that I like him... even before he paid me a visit, I knew he was wonderful.  It's just the fact that I like someone else.  I clung to my feelings for him, even as I was steadily growing more unhappy with Kyle.  I felt a bit like a child, suffering through a plate of steaming vegetables, knowing that I had a sweet drop of candy in my pocket.  Like I was laboring through homework because I had a wonderful book just begging to be read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still had time left after breakfast, so we made a trip down to Wal-Mart.  I'm a fanatic for swimming at hotels, and when I searched the city for an inexpensive place for him to stay, I found a great hotel in his price range that has both a swimming pool AND a hot tub!  Go me!  When I was bubbling about this beforehand to him, though, he said that he didn't even own swim trunks, because it had been such a long time since he'd last swam.  This made me a little sad, lol.  It was alright, though.  When we were at the store, he got swim shorts, and then we walked around for a while.  We joked about crappy movies we'd seen and poked at the fish in the tanks.  I was tickled by the fact that he liked looking at the fish, too.  I'm a pretty strong believer in simple pleasures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he checked in at the hotel, we got settled in.  Well, he did, I mean.  Lol...  I pretty much just dropped by bag and then sat on the arm of the couch, talking to him while he unpacked some things.  We started to watch a movie that he'd just bought that morning at the store, but neither of us stayed awake for long.  He'd tried to sleep on the bus, but he was too anxious about missing his stop that his sleep wasn't deep enough to enjoy.  Considering that I'd gotten about two hours of sleep the night before, I easily crashed as well.  We woke up a few hours later and teased each other about snoring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent most of the afternoon hanging around the room, chatting, playing games, and messing with some of our friends online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our laid back day, I took him back to my house.  I had planned pretty early on to make pork chops (remember those ones I tested out earlier this week?), baked potatoes, and cooked carrots.  We played with Grimm for a while after we arrived, and then I gave him a tour of the house.  He was quite impressed by my nerdiness, which, I have to say, is appreciated.  While he worked on some writing for me, I got dinner started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laying here where I am now, writing up this blog, it's a little sad to think that just a little over a day ago, he was sitting right here with me. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was pretty much a massive success.  I can't help loving it when people compliment my cooking, because that's really not my forte in the kitchen.  He loved the meal, though. :)  After hanging out for a while longer, we knocked out some cookies and cream ice cream (dessert!), grabbed a movie from the cabinet that we'd both been wanting to see, and headed back to the hotel to watch it.  After dozing off through parts of the movie, I was too tired to drive home.  Even though I hate pull out couches, I crashed on the one in the room and slept like a baby.  Oh, sweet sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big props to Lees Inn!  Seriously, if you're coming to Fort Wayne and want a hotel with all the ammenities without the big price, stay at Lees Inn! :D  When we woke up and decided to go down to breakfast, we found that it was full out continental.  Not just the cold, fruit-yogurt-cereal type of breakfast.  There was sausage gravy and biscuits, hash browns, eggs, sausage, and make your own waffles, on top of all that typical cold stuff!  It was pretty great.  I had a little fight with the waffle iron, but we made it out safely with a hot waffle in tow. :D  Also, the lady running the breakfast was a real gem.  Her name was Ruby.  You could tell she'd been at it a long time, and it was easy to see the things that she got most miffed at people doing.  She was really a hoot to talk to. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breakfast, we went swimming for a while.  I played with a kid down there for a while, before that family went back to their room, and then Rob and I pretty much spent another lazy twenty or thirty minutes just sitting in the hot tub talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played games again for a while after getting back from the pool, but it didn't feel like long enough.  In my book, Rob is the most fun to play against.  He's a lot better than me at one particular game that we both enjoy, but I have this driving force to beat him.  I do beat him sometimes, but playing against him is really forcing me to learn a better way to play so that I can best him.  The challenge is really nice. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to check out at noon.  Booooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a rainy day in Fort Wayne, so there really wasn't much for us to do.  We went and saw the new Fast and the Furious movie.  It was pretty much lame and terrible like all of its fail predecesors, but it was fun.  I was so happy to find out that he talks his way through movies, too.  Hahaha!  I figured he would be annoyed when I leaned over to whisper and snicker about something lame, but he wasn't. n_n  He just did it, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple hours before we had to be back at the bus station, Robert took me out to a late lunch/early dinner.  While we were sitting there across from each other, I found myself beginning to feel that hollow beginning.  I knew that in such a short time, I'd have to say goodbye.  I teared up a little at dinner, but tried to swipe them away before he could see them.  (I found out later that he'd seen anyway.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we had to go back to the station, I even got to take him down to Hyde Brothers and show off my favorite book store.  I can't wait to take him back there again, when we have more time to just wander around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting at the bus station was pretty much torture.  We had to be there at 5:30 PM to check his bag, but the bus didn't officially leave until 6:40.  It was fine for a while as we just talked about different things, but as the time drew closer, it just got harder.  Saying goodbye to him was awful.  I don't even remember the last time that I cried saying goodbye, but with him, I couldn't help it.  With the cold rain pouring down over us, I could feel how hot my face was getting as I pressed it against his shoulder and cried while we hugged so tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha, how lame is it?  I have tears in my eyes right now, just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got off the phone with him a moment ago, as he'd called to let me know that he'd made it home safely.  It sounds like he's ready to plan a return trip already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-6937498936807148853?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6937498936807148853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/sigh.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6937498936807148853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/6937498936807148853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/sigh.html' title='*sigh*'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-7364912519504550891</id><published>2009-04-01T22:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T23:45:28.279-04:00</updated><title type='text'>SO GET THIS!</title><content type='html'>I had the craziest dream last night! D:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in my dream, I was outside a Meijer.  There were cars everywhere, but I'm pretty sure that I was the only person actually out in the lot.  Someone ran out of the garden area off to the side of the building.  While I was watching, the man, whom I realized was a pharmacist, threw something and then disappeared.  The container that he'd discarded opened and things began to fly out.  Curious, I hurried over to check it out.  Money was flying out of the container. o_o  I grabbed the canister and found that there was still a fat wad of money in the bottom.  A whole bunch of money.  I took the canister with me and went off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a portion of my dream that I spent inside some... dark, twisted zoo.  Perhaps an eerie, dank laboratory.  There were animals, but a lot of them weren't alive.  Or they were mutated in some way or another.  I wasn't exactly afraid, but I kept to myself.  I believe I was hiding from people (even though I don't really think anyone was looking for me, at this point in my dream).  I remember sitting on the floor in a cold place with all of these weird animals... on tables, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end of my dream, I was in someone's house.  They had invited me in, I guess.  I was in my pajamas, and I still had the jar with me.  It was weird, being in their house, but my number one priority was taking care of that jar.  At one point, I was picking it up to move it, and something metallic shifted in the bottom of the canister.  It must have been change that I'd not noticed there before.  The man sitting next to me tilted his head toward me, hearing the clinking.  "That sounds familiar," he said.  "What's in your canister there?"  I guarded the jar more tightly, swearing that it was a very personal thing, and that I couldn't show them.  Eventually they left me alone about it, but I could feel their suspicion, which only made me more anxious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dream would not have been so bad if it wasn't so &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;real&lt;/span&gt;.  I woke up quite often during this dream, and I was so anxious.  I was scared and worried.  My heart was thundering.  I was burning up, even though I had already kicked off my blankets.  I really only slept an hour or two last night.  The dreams were so vivid!  Considering how real they felt... I wonder if perhaps I was dreaming that I had been awake all night?  That's a little hard for me to wrap my head around, lol.  But it's possible, isn't it?  I was really tired after I woke up, but the rest of the day was fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the rest of my day, it was fine.  I made pretty delicious ricotta-stuffed pasta shells tonight. :)  By the time everyone gets home, I'm going to have about a million leftovers for all of us to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have weird dreams again tonight, or have problems sleeping like I (think I?) had last night, I'm going to talk to my doctor.  The only thing in my life that's changed lately has been medication I've gone on, so that might be the culprit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, hope you guys enjoyed my crazy dreams.  I sure didn't!!  LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-7364912519504550891?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7364912519504550891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-get-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7364912519504550891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/7364912519504550891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-get-this.html' title='SO GET THIS!'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-5213089812177746749</id><published>2009-03-31T22:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T23:41:02.741-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Too lazy to insert my own creative title here:</title><content type='html'>Today, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to set the mood for the rest of this post, I'll have it be known right now that I'm having a conversation with Chris about Kyle.  That in itself is just sad, but... as much as he annoys me sometimes, we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt; still friends.  He doesn't give good advice, but he does listen pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a headache all morning while I was at work.  Of course, that made every lame action by co-workers that much more intolerable.  I got kind of crappy with the guy that I was complaining about yesterday.  He stands around and does nothing while there's clearly things that can be done.  At one point this morning, I was like "Hey, let's take some of this out to your car so that it's not such a big load later."  Yes, very smart.  I am a very smart girl, thx.  Instead of, you know, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;trusting the one that knows what she's talking about&lt;/span&gt;, he checked the oven.  Our driver had just put the pizzas in the end of the oven for their second rotation, which means that we have four minutes until they come out, ready to cut and box.  Upon seeing the pizzas (and the obvious four minutes that we have as time on our hands), he turns to me and gives me this really stupid "we don't have time to load the car" look.  When I saw that look on his big, stupid face, I snapped and pretty much told him to help me load the car, or that if he gives me his keys, I'll just do it myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't a happy Erin this morning. :(  I can't stand when my head hurts.  It was bad this morning, because it affected everything.  It hurt to glance in different directions, or move my mouth to talk.  Any movement of my neck flared up more pain.  Uuuugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally got home, I took some pain relievers and tried to take a nap.  It took a while to fall asleep, but it finally happened.  Didn't last long.  After a couple hours, I was woken up by people texting me.  But the rest was long enough for my headache to go away.  Yaaay~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephie was pretty upset today, so I spent a lot of time talking to her.  More about that later... perhaps tomorrow.  I don't have the energy or time to write about all of it tonight.  What a long story. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kind of looking forward to watching another America's Next Top Model marathon today (leave me alone!!  It's fun to watch! D: lol), but Oxygen had some other lame show on.  Aww....  So instead, I just watched Juno.  It doesn't seem to matter how many times I watch the movie.  I still a) love it to pieces, and b) cry every time.  I really can't help it.  If you haven't seen it, please do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that I didn't have work tomorrow...  I also wish that I could live endlessly and only sleep when I want to, rather when I know that I have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh, one more pointless entry down.  I promise I'll write something more fun to read eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-5213089812177746749?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5213089812177746749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/too-lazy-to-insert-my-own-creative.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5213089812177746749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/5213089812177746749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/too-lazy-to-insert-my-own-creative.html' title='Too lazy to insert my own creative title here:'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-1333914435576764400</id><published>2009-03-30T22:10:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T23:22:29.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sir, you'll need to buy your moustache its own seat.</title><content type='html'>Today was pretty much awesome.  Just sayin'! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week was so laid back that I was seriously dreading going back to work today.  However, this morning was a breeze.  Only one hang-up, which is quite unusual on a Monday.  Other than that, everything got done on time and just as it should be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh co-workers, though.  Co-worker gripes are what I have right now.  Right now, it's just one of them.  I have a huge problem with the way he does things.  He comes to work, clocks in right away, and then slooowly takes off his coat.  Then he gets a soda... also with ridiculous leisure.  This morning, he was here for forty-five minutes before we left to sell at the factory.  In that time, he got soda at least three times, went to the bathroom, stood around to shoot the breeze... pretty much did everything but... ya know... work.  And whenever you ask him to do anything, he hums his way out of it with one dumb excuse or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, though, the reason he got hired is because knows the owners.  So really, nothing can be done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that only the lazy jerks get immunity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to say something about it, but he got hired because of the owners.  Uuuugh, so lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha, well...  I'm too distracted to really make a good blog tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, P.S. I made pork chops tonight.  Rofl.  Guess I should try them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooh, they are sooo good! :D  Outside of bacon, this is the first time I've ever personally cooked pork.  I'm quite proud of how they turned out. n__n  I'll post the recipe sometime!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-1333914435576764400?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1333914435576764400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/sir-youll-need-to-buy-your-moustache.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1333914435576764400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/1333914435576764400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/sir-youll-need-to-buy-your-moustache.html' title='Sir, you&apos;ll need to buy your moustache its own seat.'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2538825640369971355.post-8187275564551079815</id><published>2009-03-29T22:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T23:07:27.046-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='break-up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kyle'/><title type='text'>Skittles are unicorn poops.  I think so, anyway.</title><content type='html'>I broke up with my boyfriend last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that why I created this blog?  Well... maybe.  Sort of.  But not entirely.  I'd been looking to start one, but this occurrence just kicked that door wide open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really think that he's going to miss me.  I don't really know if I'm sad about that or not, though.  He says that he still loves me, and that he wants me back.  He says that he wants to change the things that upset me.  I know that he won't, though.  Even if he does make the changes, I feel as if he'll resent me for the difference it makes in his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last time I checked, relationships tainted with resentment tend to, oh, I don't know... FAIL COMPLETELY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while he goes on like nothing at all is amiss, I end up moping around and feeling depressed.  This is so wrong!  I was the dump&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;er&lt;/span&gt;, not the dump&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ee&lt;/span&gt;.  I should not be the one feeling weird and sad like this.  Perhaps I'm just too tender, and too afraid to hurt people.  I find myself acting in ways that ignore self preservation, or putting myself into emotional jeopardy to save the feelings of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a few people even know that we've broken up, regardless of the fact that we share dozens of mutual friends via our online writing group.  My best friend knows (and a small handful of our mutual friends that were with her when I told her), as does my mother.  I doubt that he's told anyone at all.  I'm fairly convinced that even his best friend here is in the dark about all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what to do about it right now.  I guess I'll elaborate further another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, though, it's 11:02 PM on a Sunday night.  One hour left before I turn in for bed, and my weekend is over.  I'm not ready for the week to start again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was spoiled last week.  A friend of mine came to visit, so I took Tuesday and Wednesday off.  The only days I worked last week were Monday, Thursday, and Friday.  After so much lazy time, even those days seemed like a lot!  I work all five days this week, though.  I desperately need the money, but part of me just sort of wants to scream at the prospect of waking up at five or earlier every morning this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, even Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, Saturday is a special case.  Another friend of mine is coming to visit on Saturday, and his bus arrives in Fort Wayne at five in the morning.  It's far too early, but it really does mean that we get to spend the whole day together.  I'm really looking forward to that. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I keep going on and on, I won't have anything to write about tomorrow.  I'll cut it off here.  It's certainly been an interesting first blog, that's for sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2538825640369971355-8187275564551079815?l=urnchinblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8187275564551079815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/skittles-are-unicorn-poops-i-think-so.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/8187275564551079815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2538825640369971355/posts/default/8187275564551079815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://urnchinblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/skittles-are-unicorn-poops-i-think-so.html' title='Skittles are unicorn poops.  I think so, anyway.'/><author><name>Erin</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_akZJFqw_9Sw/S7FmsJNTojI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xBhZ4pTw2w4/S220/06ada5db90c1a10123b3de6b317134bd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
