<?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-22462093</id><updated>2011-11-27T19:10:36.727-05:00</updated><category term='more'/><title type='text'>I'm in here somewhere</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>99</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5785234965773607657</id><published>2009-08-18T18:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T19:13:56.912-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>New job</title><content type='html'>I started my new job yesterday. Sorry I didn't post an update but when I got home I was exhausted. I'd only gotten 3 hours of sleep Sunday night. It was so hot I couldn't get comfortable. It's a miracle that I didn't fall asleep at my desk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The job is great. I like what they have me doing but I'm beginning to question my decision to take this position. I don't work for the company. I work for the agency who was contracted to fill the position. I've never done contracting before and if the economy wasn't this bad I wouldn't be doing it now. I've always only looked for permanent positions and I don't know anyone who has been contracted for more than a few months before either being hired by the company or let go. The guy upstairs did a 3 month contract and at the end of his 3 months he was unemployed again. My friends husband was hired for a 6 month contract and in his 5th month he was hired perm. THAT was what I was expecting to happen here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I found out that 90% of the people working for this company are contracted employees. They just keep renewing their contracts. One guy has been there almost 6 years on contract. At first I thought "that's great!" then on the way home I realized some stuff. Contract work isn't all that great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The company is closed for the week between Christmas and New Years. I wont be working because they're closed. I also wont be getting paid because I'm not working. There are zero holidays, zero sick days, zero PTO days. If I'm hired by the company they have 12 holidays and a full week in December but since I'm working for the agency I get nothing and this company doesn't ever hire anybody. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens if (God forbid) I get sick? Swine Flu is a global pandemic. What if I (God forbid) catch it and have to miss a week of work? I cant afford to not get paid. My back still isn't fixed. What if I need more surgery down the road? Who pays my rent, food and bills while I'm in the hospital? And then there's the health insurance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this job hoping to be hired perm at the end of my 6 months. I didn't think much about the insurance. I was offered health insurance but the agency doesn't offer family coverage. They only offer coverage for the employee and I have to pay 25% of the premium. When I got laid off from my last job I applied for NJ Family care. It's a state sponsored HMO for low income people without health insurance. 3 kids and my unemployment check qualified me as low income so my kids were approved, but you have to re qualify every year. If they renew my contract my kids will lose their insurance. I make too much money to stay on the familycare and the agency doesn't offer coverage for them. What happens then? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to think about these things. I cant afford not to. Sure the pay is good but it's not SO good that I'll be able to bank half of my paycheck in case of emergency. It's not SO good that I can afford personal health insurance for my kids. It's not like I can put them on their fathers plan. He's spent the past 15 years working off the books to avoid child support so you know the jerk doesn't have a health plan at his job. 129k in arrears. Every time I think about it my blood boils. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I'm going to do. I wish my life wasn't always this hard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned a few other things too. I learned that my pain level is in direct proportion to my appetite. The more pain I am in, the more food I need to eat. I hurt my back pretty bad on Saturday. I was walking the dog and bent down to pick up after her. I must've twisted in a bad way or something because I was in excruciating pain all day Saturday and on Sunday. Then, walking around at work on Monday made it worse. I was too tired to eat yesterday but OMG did I need food on Sunday. I figured it was what my body needed so I indulged that need but I tried to make the foods that I ate healthy. I didn't dive into a cheesecake but boy did I want to! &lt;br /&gt;&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/22462093-5785234965773607657?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5785234965773607657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5785234965773607657' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5785234965773607657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5785234965773607657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-job.html' title='New job'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7980255007635158997</id><published>2009-08-15T14:30:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T15:01:06.278-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>women!</title><content type='html'>What is it about us women that makes us so incredibly stupid when it comes to men and marriage? OK, so maybe stupid isnt the right word. I cant even think of a word to use that fits this situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this friend, lets call her Anne (not her name). She sat in my livingroom not 6 months ago complaining about her husband. He talks down to her, he doesnt respect her, he thinks he's better than she is, smarter than she is. You get the picture. Anyway, 6 months ago she's sitting here telling me that she's tired of it. She put her life on hold for this man. Gave up a career that she loved to work for 7.00 an hour in his law office. She doesnt deserve it and in October (after his birthday) she is going to ask for a divorce. "Why are you waiting until October?". "I dont want to ruin his birthday".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT?!?! I wanted to hit her with a pillow! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, something happened 2 weeks ago with his daughter (adult daughter) and she snapped. She told him she was moving out of their house by the end of the week. Again I tried to talk sense into her. The mortgage is in YOUR name. The insurance is in YOUR name. The bills are in YOUR name. Dont move out of that house, you could stand to lose it in the divorce. Or worse still, he can ruin her financially by not paying anything. Nope. She's moving out because "he promised to take care of everything". Sure Anne, he's been a real upstanding guy all these years. No reason to think that will change right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the other night she is out with some other friends of ours and one of them happened to mention that nobody ever really liked him anyway because of the way he spoke to her and put her down when she wasnt around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called me spitting nails! Now here is where the majority of my confusion comes from. She knew he was a pompous ass. Did she honestly think nobody else noticed? 6 months ago she and I talked at length about what kind of man he was and now she wants to cry and scream because other people saw him for who he really was too. It really wasnt much of a secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just dont get it.&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/22462093-7980255007635158997?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7980255007635158997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7980255007635158997' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7980255007635158997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7980255007635158997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/women.html' title='women!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3201792575089400154</id><published>2009-08-14T18:38:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T14:54:39.717-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>Monday it is</title><content type='html'>I finally got the OK.  I start work on Monday.  They still havent verified my diploma but are letting that slide for now.  The IT manager is getting upset because it's taking so long.  It really has been a long time too.  I was contacted by the recruiter about the position back in June. Something happened over there, I dont know what, but it put the project on hold for a month. I had my interview on the 28th and was hired on the 30th.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm printing out the 100's of pages of stuff that they sent me. I have to sign everywhere and bring it in with me Monday morning. I swear it's the size of the yellow pages. I REALLY hope it's a good hair day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish it was Tuesday instead tho. My youngest son's football season started last week and the parents meeting is Monday at 6. I dont know what my hours are yet, all I know is that I have to be there at 8am Monday morning. But if I have to work until 5, it's easily an hour and a half home because of the traffic.  That means that I will miss the meeting.  I hate not being able to be involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids suffered last year because I was a cripple.  They suffered the year before because of my surgerys. I missed almost all of their games, I swore that once I was feeling better I would never miss another one.  I promised that no matter what I would be the one to take them to practices, scrimages and pep rallys.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I didnt plan on losing my job. My boss had always told us, if you do your job and you do it well...  you will always have a job here.  I did my job and I was good at it. I loved my job and I thought it would always be there. I didnt count on the economy taking a nose dive.  Now I have a job but it's 45 minutes away from home.  45 minutes WITHOUT traffic.  I wont be the one to take him to practices.  I wont be the one at parents meetings. My mother gets that honor again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've be in a whole lot of trouble if it werent for my mothers help over the years. She cooked for us when I couldnt stand up long enough to do it. She took my kids where ever they needed to go.  She's cleaned my apartment, walked my dog &amp; scrubbed my toilet.  I owe her everything.  But I'd be lying if I said that a tiny piece of me resents all the times that she was there for my boys because I couldnt be. &lt;br /&gt;&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/22462093-3201792575089400154?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3201792575089400154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3201792575089400154' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3201792575089400154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3201792575089400154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/monday-it-is.html' title='Monday it is'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8086575700375058212</id><published>2009-08-12T21:12:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T21:33:16.257-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>whatever happened to...</title><content type='html'>the octomom? I found myself thinking about this woman today. The press went so far out of their way to get us interested in this woman and her kids then just they just moved on, leaving us to wonder what's up now. I was among those sick to death of hearing about her, but now that she's not a "top news story" I think I'm missing her. I think that's a little insensitive of our news media. She dominated the headlines for months! Now theres barely a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to google her today and guess what? She's getting a Fox tv special on the 19th AND a &lt;a href="http://www.tvguide.com/news/octomom-kids-deal-1008429.aspx?rss=news&amp;amp;partnerid=spi&amp;amp;profileid=05"&gt;reality show&lt;/a&gt;! lol There's what we need... more reality tv. On the upside, at least she'll have a job and money for all those kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else? Lets see.... I dont start my new job tomorrow either. They're telling me that they still havent verified my hs diploma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've verified every other document they could find that pertains to my personal history and a 30 year old document is holding them up? Do they think I forged it? Anyway, I dont know when I'll be starting this job. I'm thinking maybe Monday. I hope so anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I watched a show on one of the PBS channels called &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Excuses-Begone-Lifelong-Self-Defeating-Thinking/dp/1401921736?&amp;amp;camp=212361&amp;amp;creative=383961&amp;amp;linkCode=waf&amp;amp;tag=iminheresome-20"&gt;Excuses Begone!: How to Change Lifelong, Self-Defeating Thinking Habits &lt;/a&gt;For 2 hours this Dr Dyer talked about how we carry the things we learn in our childhood with us for the rest of our lives and how those things affect our every day lives. He didnt talk much about how to change that thinking (you have to buy the book for that) but he really explored what makes up the majority of our thoughts and what's really behind our excuses. I've never been one for "self-help books" but I bought the book today. What's the harm? It's not I'm doing a great job with my life on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I go back to logging my calories. I havent done that in a few weeks. I wanted to see if I'd learned enough to do it right without adding the numbers. I havent gained any weight, but I havent lost any either.&lt;br /&gt;&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/22462093-8086575700375058212?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8086575700375058212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8086575700375058212' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8086575700375058212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8086575700375058212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/whatever-happened-to.html' title='whatever happened to...'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-9160466434551133541</id><published>2009-08-11T21:20:00.022-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:02:02.757-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>what a day!</title><content type='html'>Today it was all I could do to not dive head first into a chocolate cake. Somehow I resisted the urge and settled for a small piece but let me tell you... in my heart I had the whole plate in one hand and a fork in the other!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not starting my new job tomorrow as planned. I cant even tell you when I will be starting this job. Apparently they are still waiting on some background info. I have bent over backwards for these people giving them every single little piece of information that they have asked for and they're still asking for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First it was my GED and HS diploma. Then I was subjected to TWO drug tests. The criminal background check. They didn't find out about my arson charge BTW. The law only allows them to go back 7 years for misdemeanors. They needed to know every address I have had in my life. Every name that I have used. They needed SIX professional references and three personal ones. I thought it was over. I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thing this morning I get a phone call. They arent able to see the raised seal on my diploma and now need to see the original. Excuse me but I am NOT sending these strangers my HS diploma! I sent them the transcript from my GED. I sent them the transcript from the MCSE training program that I took. I sent them my Microsoft ID numbers and test scores. But I have to draw the line at sending them original documents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured if I scan the diploma to the computer and email them the file they will be able to see it in color instead of a faxed copy and maybe they'll be able to make out the seal. I sent that to them only to get a return email saying that they still cant see the raised lettering. Now I scan the back of the diploma so that they can see the imprints on the back from the seal. The company that I am supposed to work for said that was fine. The background checking company that the company I'm supposed to work for hired to check my background has yet to approve it. Yes, apparently even though the company itself will accept this, they still need the other company to sign off on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they call me back to say they havent as yet gotten anybody to verify my salary. Verify my salary? When did this come up? What does my salary at my last job have to do with the job that I have been offered? I know what you're thinking.... they need my salary history to gauge how much they are going to pay me for this job. But thats not it. I already have a signed job offer in my hands complete with a job description, salary, hours and bonus's. I feel like they just need this to be nosey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I'm told they need to speak to someone who worked at the company with me to verify that I worked there. I gave them that. Then they tell me they need to speak to someone who currently works at the company to verify how long I worked there. I gave them that. Now they are telling me that none of the people that they have spoken to are good enough because none of them can tell them how much money I made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling a HUGE invasion of privacy here. They have poked into every inch of the last 30 years of my life. They know when I was married. They know when I was divorced. They know my childrens names and ages. They checked into every job that I have ever had, both full and part time. They ran my drivers license. They ran a credit check even though they specifically told me that they would not be checking that. They probably even know my shoe size. I wouldnt be surprised if they've traced my ip address and are reading this blog tonight. I flat out told them that I'm beginning to feel violated by this whole process. If GETTING a job with this company is so difficult, I'm afraid to think about what actually working for them will be like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they had told me from the very beginning that they needed salary verification I would've somehow gotten it to them. They told me they needed W2's or paystubs showing my first and last weeks with the company &lt;strong&gt;to verify my tenure&lt;/strong&gt;. Salary history was never mentioned until today. TODAY! When I'm supposed to start tomorrow. And the only person they are willing to speak to is someone in the HR department at my old job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My old job is bankrupt. They are closed, out of business. Nobody works there anymore. It took hours on the phone to get someone over there to understand this and get them to accept testimony from someone who worked at our sister company on the west coast. Today they tell me that because the person I told them to speak to cant tell them how much money I made, he doesnt count. They want to speak to HR. The HR director was also the company controller and the sister company has just filed for bankruptcy. She is up to her neck in the process of paperwork, hearings, inventory liquidations, closing stores and trying to sell others. This woman hasnt returned a single phone call they made to her last week and so far she isnt returning any this week either. I think its safe to assume she's a little busy. If she hasnt called back by now I doubt she ever will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this. I'm ranting about all of this to the recruiter who found me. This is the man who found my resume online, got me the interview and also got me more money than I was asking for. I'm on the phone ranting about this whole mess. I wanted to know why my salary history is so damned important. What I made at my last job has no bearing whatsoever on whether or not I can do that job that I'm being hired for. He tells me that he will make a few phone calls to see why all of this is happening. A little while later I get an email...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Salary History is considered a standard when verifying employment&lt;br /&gt;through a verification company, this information is not a required response. Most firms choose not release this information without written consent from their employees. "&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;So... let me see if I got this right. This information is NOT required and they're EXPECTING to be told that since I havent signed a consent form they cant get the information anyway. But they're holding up my start date until they can get an official NO from the HR lady? Does that make sense to anybody? Because I'm sure as hell confused!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be 45 years old in October. I have been working all of my adult life and I have NEVER, EVER been asked to provide half of this information. Nevermind give them my high school diploma. Every single second of my adult life has been disected and laid out to display. They have violated more of my privacy than a 6 month contract position requires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was telling my son all of this today and he said "who are you working for? the FBI?". I'm thinking even the FBI wouldnt even require this much bullshit.&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/22462093-9160466434551133541?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/9160466434551133541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=9160466434551133541' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/9160466434551133541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/9160466434551133541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-day.html' title='what a day!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2674061772879816248</id><published>2009-08-10T12:55:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:13:23.815-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>The 3/50 Project</title><content type='html'>Instead of whining about how miserable I am. Or how much weight I'm NOT losing, I've decided to do something productive today and spread some useful information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently came across a blog called &lt;a href="http://http//kdsthinkingoutloud.blogspot.com/"&gt;Thinking Out Loud &lt;/a&gt;and she was talking about the future of the smaller "mom &amp;amp; pop" companies in this economy. This is where the 3/50 project comes in and, forgive me for quoting someone else's blog here but she says it much better than I ever could. I'm giving her credit and posting her link so I hope that makes it halfway ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Everyone is feeling the pinch right now--all types of businesses--&lt;br /&gt;including larger chains. But the small brick and mortar businesses are feeling it more than others. What I see when I go into these stores is not just products or price tags, but someone's dream or passion. Meeting these store owners is inspiring, and right now heartbreaking, as they try everything to simply keep&lt;br /&gt;their doors open.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The basic premise is this: Look around your community and pick three brick and mortar businesses that you love and frequent, that you would miss if they weren't around. Make a point of going to those businesses and spending $50 in each one. It is a simple plan to help these businesses survive, but it also means helping to secure the patchwork of diverse businesses in our communities.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Even if you can't spend $50, spend $5.00. Every little bit helps. And if you can't spend $5.00, just pass the word along. When this recession turns around, and it will, we don't want to be left with only national chains standing."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.the350project.net/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.the350project.net/supporter_graphics/350_project_web_panel.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out their website &lt;a href="http://www.the350project.net/home.html"&gt;http://www.the350project.net/home.html&lt;/a&gt; for more information.&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/22462093-2674061772879816248?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2674061772879816248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2674061772879816248' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2674061772879816248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2674061772879816248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/350-project.html' title='The 3/50 Project'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6377709958192254554</id><published>2009-08-10T10:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T11:00:11.404-04:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE Toyota waranty!</title><content type='html'>I jsut got back from picking up my car. They had to put a new computer and a new trans in. Something about the computer failure to release some code... I dont know. When it comes to cars I'm lucky I know where the key goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent DAYS worried about how much all of this was going to cost me. Worried about mileage. Worried about labor. Worried about 35.00 a day rental fee. I've worried myself sick over this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning they called to tell me the car was ready. I took a deep breath and get to get it. My car was 100% completely covered! ZERO BALANCE! The computer was covered 100% by my Toyota waranty. The trans, labor and rental car fees were covered 100% by my Toyota extended waranty. My total bill came to $3709.00 and I paid nothing :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That extended waranty cost me $589.00 when I bought the car. That's the BEST 600 bucks I ever spent :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no word from the piece of shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my new drug test paperwork this morning.  I guess I'll go for that this afternoon.  Maybe I'll take the kids to the beach tomorrow before I start work on Wednesday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is starting out so well that I went and bought myself a lottery ticket&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6377709958192254554?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6377709958192254554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6377709958192254554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6377709958192254554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6377709958192254554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/love-toyota-waranty.html' title='LOVE Toyota waranty!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7480590158876000951</id><published>2009-08-09T21:06:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:11:23.723-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>stupid stupid stupid</title><content type='html'>I did something monumentally stupid. I was going to give the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;neanderthal&lt;/span&gt; another chance. I know! I know! BIG mistake but I couldnt help myself. He came here Thursday night. He was so sweet and sad. How much he missed me. How sorry he is. He wanted to stay the night but I said no. I could've said yes, nobody was home. But something inside me screamed NO. He asked if he could come back on Friday and I said yes. He didnt show up. He called yesterday and said that he had called here but got no answer, he figured I'd gone out. Why would I go out if I was expecting him? He swore that he called. It was a lame excuse, I was home waiting and nobody else was here. Somehow I convinced myself that maybe one of the kids was on the phone before they left and didnt answer the beep. He said he would see me that night. The kids went out and I sat here waiting. I waited until 2am then went to bed. It's after 9pm and he hasnt called yet. I will NOT call him no matter how badly I want to. I want to call and tell him what a jerkoff he is but I have to be honest. There's this voice whispering in my ear telling me there was a good reason. I hate that voice. It lies. It lets me do things that I know are stupid and wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just cannot believe I let myself do this again. Why is it so hard to let go? We were together for 14 years. I spent every day of each year planning a future for us. We had a child together. My head wants to scream at "what did I do wrong". But I know it wasnt me who broke us. He refused to budge. He lies and he cheats and refused to make any type of sacrifice at all. It was his way or no way and I hate him for making me waste so much of my life on a lie. But damnit I am sooo tired of being alone. I'm no good alone. I just dont get it. I see other women, they have somebody. Women bigger than me, plainer than me, nastier than me. They all have somebody to hold them at night. What am I doing wrong? I tried the dating thing. I posted about my dating thing. None of them worked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched a movie on Lifetime tonight. The woman was psychic and she saw things. Mostly she saw people getting murdered but she saw other things too. I sat here half wishing that I could see the future too. I want to see into the future and see that I wont be alone for the rest of my life. But I have this strong, nagging feeling that I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can sit here right now and say outloud "I would rather be alone than to be treated like shit" but I think on some level that might be a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you're going to say. You're going to tell me that I dont need a man. Nobody NEEDS one but I sure as hell WANT one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didnt eat today. I had my 3 cups of coffee like I normally do but that was it. I had half of a hamburger for dinner and some salad. I know that I should eat but I dont want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate this blog design&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/22462093-7480590158876000951?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7480590158876000951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7480590158876000951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7480590158876000951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7480590158876000951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/stupid-stupid-stupid.html' title='stupid stupid stupid'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8776093441749358542</id><published>2009-08-08T01:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:10:28.419-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>oops. I did it again</title><content type='html'>I really wish these blogs had an option to set the publish status to immediately instead of it defaulting to unplublished.   I've been posting all week but stupid me forgot to change the status again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I made the BEST dinner last night.  I've been trying to calculate the calories in this salad but cant find a way to do it.  I've been craving macaroni salad but cant justify the mayonnaise in my head.  There are so many calories in mayo and I dont think the fat free stuff has any taste.  So here's what I did.  Keep in mind that I'm feeding teenagers so I had to make a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 boxes of Ronzoni Rigatoni (the regular kind,  the whole wheat pasta was more expensive and I couldnt afford it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 pint of cherry tomatoes (sliced in half)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 green peppers (chopped)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 bottle of Kens Lite Creamy Caesar dressing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix all of that up and put it in the fridge to get cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I took 1 pound of boneless chicken breasts. Sliced each breast in half (to make the chicken thinner) and marinated it in 1/2 cup of fat free italian dressing for about an hour.  I cooked the chicken outside on the bbq grill, chopped it into chunks and mixed it into my pasta salad.  THE KIDS LOVED IT!  I cant imagine it having too many calories but  OMG it was even better today for lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother and her friend stopped by last night.  Her friend has lost over 80 pounds.  I should have been inspired by this.  Instead I was sad.  She looks horrible.  Her skin is sagging everywhere.  Folds and folds of it,  her cheeks are hanging down almost into her neck, her arms and legs are so droopy and wrinkled you can barely make out her knees and ankles.  I can only imagine her midsection.  I found myself wondering which looks worse.  To be fat and overweight or to have all of that skin hanging from your body.   I know that's wrong but I couldnt help thinking it and I'm probably going straight to hell for not being able to stop thinking about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I wrong for being afraid of it?  I mean, is this a real concern for people?&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/22462093-8776093441749358542?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8776093441749358542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8776093441749358542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8776093441749358542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8776093441749358542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/oops-i-did-it-again.html' title='oops. I did it again'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2331101894872021524</id><published>2009-08-07T01:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:09:27.908-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>if it’s not one thing, its another.</title><content type='html'>The recruiter called me today. I was supposed to start work on Monday but they're changing it to Wednesday. The IT manager wants to be there on my first day and he'll be out of the office Monday and Tuesday. That's fine by me. More time to be lazy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My drug tests results came back. My "sample was too watered down for any type of definitave result" so I have to go back and take another one. Watered down? They make it sound like I turned on the sink to fill the cup. This place that I went to... they didnt even have a sink in the room they sent me into and they had one of those toilets that only use water to flush. How could they think I'd cheat? Well, in fairness, they didnt actually SAY they thought I cheated but I dont know what else could be implied. I woke up at my normal time. I'd only drank 3 cups of coffee and half a glass of iced tea all day, and the test wasnt until 1:00! Thats 5 hours! How could this sample be watered down? Anyway, I have to go back on Tuesday and take another one. This time I've been advised to not drink anything all day. It's just more bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of bullshit. I got another email from those background checkers. This time they want (and I'm pasting the actual text here so I dont misquote them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Pay stub or 1099 indicating that you received income. XXXX(company name)XXXX asks that you supply documentation &lt;strong&gt;that shows both the starting and the ending dates of employment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Another contact name and number of an authorized party that is currently employed with the company that can verify your employment. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now. 2 things wrong with this request. First, they want pay stubs from the day I was hired and another one from my last day of employment. Who keeps paystubs for that long? We're talking 2003 here. I dont have paystubs from 2003! The other thing wrong with this request is this... they KNOW the company filed for bankruptcy and closed their doors. Exactly who do they want to hear from? Nobody works there anymore!! I offered to give them names and numbers of people who worked there when I did but they dont want that. They're insisting on speaking to someone who still works there to testify that I used to work there. Arent my tax records and W2's enough??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of Mickey Mouse operation are they running over there anyway? All they've done on their own is a credit check. A credit check that wasnt authorized by the way! Everything else they've needed to check on is being supplied by me. Exactly what are they getting paid for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe that I have to go through so much shit for a temp job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toyota called. They've finally gotten permission from the extended waranty department to replace my transmission. They're ordering a new trans today and hope to have my car fixed in the next few days. NEXT FEW DAYS?!!? If they ordered the trans today, they MIGHT have it in by Monday (probably Tuesday). Then a day or 2 to put it in. I have to start work on Wednesday at a job 33 miles away at 25 cents a mile. Not to mention the 35 a day they're charging me just to have the car. I've already had the car for 3 days and now including the weekend I'm looking at at least 4 or 5 more days until I get mine back. OK, the trans and labor are covered under the waranty so I wont have to pay for that. But where am I getting the money for this other stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a drink :)&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/22462093-2331101894872021524?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2331101894872021524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2331101894872021524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2331101894872021524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2331101894872021524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/if-its-not-one-thing-its-another.html' title='if it’s not one thing, its another.'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-1825951620639220915</id><published>2009-08-06T01:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:12:15.529-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='more'/><title type='text'>lemon ice and nightmares… oh boy</title><content type='html'>My son has eaten almost 2 gallons of cherry lemon ice since yesterday.  I'm also shoving milk shakes down his throat.  I know the milk causes more mucus but he needs something to coat his stomach so these pain pills dont make him puke.  Thats all he needs!   He's still in major pain.  The pain pills arent working for him at all.  I feel so bad for him.  I wish I could make all of it go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get an email this morning from the company doing my background check.  They need a copy of my GED.  Well I dont have a copy of my GED so they give me the phone number of some state office to get a copy of the transcript.   I called that office all day and got no answer.   I was looking through some old folders hoping to find that stupid piece of paper and came across my HS diploma.   I called these background checking people and told them that I would fax them that instead.  Well...  that isnt good enough.  I have a strange history with GED and diplomas.  When I was 17 and a half I got married.  I couldnt stand my mothers husband.  He was bigoted and abusive.  This is the guy who bought my underwear for Christmas one year but wouldnt let me keep it unless I put it on in front of him.  Yeah... keep your shit mister.  You're a creep!  He never did anything but boy did he try.  I so desperately needed to get away from him that I conned my father into signing the consent form (he was in the hospital and highly medicated) and I got married.   Well, the school board here in my town (and maybe others, I dont know) said that I couldnt be married and still be a high school student so they made me quit.  It was either quit or be expelled.  I thought quitting would look better on my resume than getting thrown out...  17 year old logic.  What can I say.  That was October 1982.  In August of 83 I took my GED and passed it.  In 1984 I decided to join the US Air Force.  Well back then (again, I dont know about now) a GED was good enough for a man to enlist but a woman needed a diploma.  The Air Force sent me to an adult learning program at a local high school and I got my HS diploma.  So I have both. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO, back on track.  I called these background checkers and told them that I would fax them my HS diploma.  The told me that a check of my background shows that I have a GED therefore I need to show it to them.  As far as I am concerned, the HS diploma trumps the GED so they should be happy with that.  I had to get a supervisor on the phone and argue with him for 20 mintues before they finally decided to accept what I had.  The guy on the other end of the phone told me they are going to use the GED as proof of identy, not proof of a diploma.  They already have copies of my drivers license with my picture on it, they have my social security number,  they have proof of address.  How much more proof of identy do they need? Besides, If I had to wait for a state office to call me back I'd never start this job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway...  thats done.  Drug test is done.  More and more I'm finding myself hoping this job goes past 6 months to permanent. I think if I have to go through this nonsense for another job I will lose my mind&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/22462093-1825951620639220915?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/1825951620639220915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=1825951620639220915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1825951620639220915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1825951620639220915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/lemon-ice-and-nightmares-oh-boy.html' title='lemon ice and nightmares… oh boy'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2738647064268084761</id><published>2009-08-05T01:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:42:41.882-04:00</updated><title type='text'>drug tests and transmissions… ouch</title><content type='html'>#1 son is sooo sick :(   He woke up yesterday with a sore throat.  We went and got him some cloraseptic throat spray (yes...  I know I spelled that wrong :p)  but it didnt help.  By the end of the night he couldnt swallow at all.  I have never seen him in so much pain.  My son HATES doctors.  He thinks they're all in it for the money and dont give a shit if they make you better or not.  In fact, he thinks they like to keep you sick so they can make MORE money.  Today he begged me to make him a doctors appointment.  He doesnt have any insurance so I called my doctor hoping they'd give him some kind of break on the office visit and he did.  All the way over there he is writing me notes saying how he hates my doctor and how he cant believe that I called the doctor who broke me hoping to fix him.   It's an argument we've had for years...  I just go with it.  His tonsils are so swollen and infected that his throat is almost completely closed up.  If he's not better by Friday I have to bring him back.  He gave him antibiotics and pain pills.  Well!  My son exploded!  How does he think I'm supposed to swallow these things!  I cant even drink water and he wants me to swallow these huge pills!  SEE!!  I told you it was a waste of time!  Why do I have to go back?  If he did his job in the first place there'd be no need to go back!  SEE!!  He just wants to make more money!  Good Grief that boy makes me crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so I'm on my way for my drug test.  The car was hesitating a little bit on the way there but I thought it was just bad gas.  I I made it to the testing place and started to make a K turn to park on the other side of the street.  I put the car in reverse.  No go.  I put the car back in drive.  No go.  It went just like that.   Fine one second.  Broke the next.   My car is a 2005 so it's still under waranty.  I called Toyota's roadside assistance.  Wow was I impressed!  They had a tow truck there in 15 minutes.   I had called my son before I called Toyota and as sick as he was, he came out to help me.  My son drove me to the dealership where the tow truck dropped my car.  They think it's the selenoid.  I dont know what that means but they said it'd take a few days to fix and gave me what I thought was a loaner car.  By this time, all I could think about was getting my sick son home so I signed where they told me to sign and we left.  I get home and look at the loaner paperwork.  It's not a loan.  It's a rental.  I get 100 miles free then 25 cents each additional mile AND 34.95 per day rental fee.   I'm supposed to afford this how?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully it wont take too long to fix.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2738647064268084761?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2738647064268084761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2738647064268084761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2738647064268084761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2738647064268084761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/drug-tests-and-transmissions-ouch.html' title='drug tests and transmissions… ouch'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-661139076925554945</id><published>2009-08-03T01:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:42:01.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'>so</title><content type='html'>Mini-reunion went ok.  My son showed up so that was fun.   He's almost 22 and we hadnt been out for a drink before.  It's not something that I plan to make a habit of, but it was still fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm supposed to start my new job next Monday.  That gives me a week to lay around and be lazy.  You want to know what's really sick and twisted?  I've spent all of these months praying for a job and now that I have one I dont want it.  I got used to sleeping until 10 and now I have to be a grown up again and give that up.  Isnt that crazy?  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They ran a credit check even tho I was told they wouldnt.  My credit sucks but nobody said anything about it yet.  Still waiting on the results of the background check.  I got my new hire paperwork today.   I'm scheduled for a drug test on Wednesday.  I have intentionally NOT taken any pain medicine just to be sure I'll pass.  I know that I have prescriptions for these pills and legally they cant say anything about it but still, it's a road I'd rather not drive on.   There are so many ways to skirt around the legalitys it's scarey.  This is a pharmacutical company...  they have super strict rules and I dont want to push it.  So I sit and suffer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had zero appetite today.  I know you have to eat to lose weight but no matter how hard I tried I just cant seem to want to pick up a fork.  Unless it's a forkful of cheesecake..  thats a horse of a completely different color :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-661139076925554945?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/661139076925554945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=661139076925554945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/661139076925554945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/661139076925554945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/so.html' title='so'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5567191393988013970</id><published>2009-08-01T01:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:41:12.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a whale :)</title><content type='html'>I'm headed out for the night with friends.  Some kind of hokey "mini-class reunion".  I dont really want to go but I dont really want to sit here alone all night either.  Anyway, I have some time before I have to leave and decided to check my email.  I found this little beauty in there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, in large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;¨THIS SUMMER DO YOU WANT TO BE A MERMAID OR A WHALE?¨&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A middle aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; To Whom It May Concern:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans). They have an active sex life, they get pregnant and have adorable baby whales. They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp. They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Bering Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia . Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs. They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans. They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Mermaids don’t exist. If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or human? They don’t have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them not to mention how could they have sex? Therefore they do not have kids either. Besides, who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store? The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a whale.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; P.S.. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver and a coffee with my friends. With time we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren’t heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy. Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, Good gosh, look how smart I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice night chickies :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5567191393988013970?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5567191393988013970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5567191393988013970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5567191393988013970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5567191393988013970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-whale.html' title='I&apos;m a whale :)'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7727935420778061273</id><published>2009-07-31T01:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:40:28.824-04:00</updated><title type='text'>slow down!</title><content type='html'>I just faxed back my authorization forms for credit and background checks.  Now I'm sitting here thinking that maybe it's not a  good idea to be so exictied about this job just yet.  I will fail the credit check.  My credit sucks!  I took a 20 point hit just from losing my job.  It wasnt great before I lost my job but it took a hard nosedive after.  Then there's the criminal background check.  Yes chickies....  I have a criminal record.   Sit down, grab a cup of coffee and I'll tell you a story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont even remember what year it happened.  I was still married at the time and I'm divorced for 15 years already so maybe 1991?  92?  I dont even remember if my son was even born yet so it might have been earlier than that.  Anyway!  There was one time that he'd been gone for about a week, we had no idea where he was or if he was dead or alive.  I was driving down to his mothers house one day and I saw the car (MY car) parked on the street.  I decided to leave a note on the windshield saying something like "stay gone" or something like that.  I dont even remember what my note was going to say anymore.  So I pull up behind the car, get out and walk to the front to leave my note.  As I bent over the front of the car I saw it.  There, hanging from the rear view mirror of the car that my mother gave ME, were a pair of extra large, purple silk panties.  I lost my mind!  It was my car so of course I had a key.  I opened the door and snatched those panties down from the mirror so hard that I tore the mirror from the windshield.  I calmly closed the door, hung those panties on the side mirror and lit them on fire! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently he and his girlfriend were watching me from the window and of course they called the cops.  I was arrested and charged with arson.  Later, at the police station, the charge was reduced to disorderly persons and I was released on my own recognisence.  At court I told the judge my story.  When I had finished my retelling of the whole ordeal  I said (and I remember this part like it happened an hour ago)...  "I dont understand.  I can stand in the middle of the street in front of this building and burn the US flag and you cant touch me.  But I burn some pigs purple panties and you lock me up for it?".   The judge laughed, then agreed and found me guilty of disorderly conduct.  No fine.  No probation.  35.00 court costs.  Have a nice day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah.  I have a criminal history lol  And now it might come back to bite me in the ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7727935420778061273?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7727935420778061273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7727935420778061273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7727935420778061273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7727935420778061273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/slow-down.html' title='slow down!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6984058495236714720</id><published>2009-07-30T01:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:39:23.117-04:00</updated><title type='text'>stuff</title><content type='html'>I got in trouble the other day.  BIIIIGGGG TROUBLE :)   I had taken a pot roast out of the freezer and it was either cook it or throw it away.  We all know that I dont have my car so I have to rely on others for transportation.  I called my mother, she was working.  I called my son, he was at the gym then had to go to work.  I called my neighbor,  the baby was sleeping and he couldnt take me.  Normally I could've waited but it was 90 degrees and I needed to cook the roast in the crock pot (no way was I turning that oven on).  Crock pot roasts take hours so I couldnt wait until everyone wasnt busy so I walked.  According to mapquest,  my local Pathmark is .68 miles away and I walked it!!  OMG I WALKED IT!!  Truth be told, I was dead by the time I got there.  The pain was so bad that I was dragging my feet because I couldnt even pick my legs up but I made it!!  My son called me when I was almost there to ask what I was doing.  I told him that I was walking to the store.  The next thing I knew he was behind me on line yelling at me like I was 12.  "You could've killed yourself!".  "Are you trying to put yourself in a wheelchair!!".   He drove me home, helped me up the stairs and stormed out.   Everybody has been yelling at me ever since.  Yes, it was stupid for me to do it.  Yes, sometimes my stubborn streak gets in the way of good sense and yes,  it took 3 vicodin before I could walk from the couch to the bathroom afterwards.  But they arent seeing the big picture here. &lt;span style="color: #ff0000"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; I made it!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  6 months ago I couldnt walk to the deli on the corner and 2 days ago I walked over half a mile!   I'm sorry, they can be as mad as they need to.  I'm proud of myself.  Dont think I'll be trying that again anytime soon but I'm still happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else?  I went on another interview yesterday.  While I was driving up there I got stuck in a storm like no other storm I'd ever seen.  I was driving on a highway - speed limit normally 65mph.   The rain was so heavy that nobody on that highway drove over 15mph.  I couldnt even see the front of the car, nevermind what was in front of the car.  The smart drivers pulled over to let the storm pass.  I was already late and couldnt pull over. I made it up there 45 minutes late.  I was so stressed over driving in that mess (I had never been more afraid to drive in my life).  I got off the major highway and pulled onto a smaller state road that was flooded.  The cops were directing people onto side streets to avoid getting stuck in the waters and I'd lost GPS signal.  When I finally found the place I pulled into the first parking lot that I saw.  This place was HUGE!  There are 3 building complexes to this company, each complex has 4 or 5 buildings and each complex is about a mile and a half from the next one.  First I was told that I was in the wrong building.  I was directed to another building only to find out that I was in the wrong complex completely.   I think going to the wrong complex hurt me even more than being late.  The job is a +6 month contract to QA a new software build.  The interview went great but the job requires following very detailed instructions but I couldnt follow directions to the right complex.  I dont expect them to be calling any time soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I havent yet found a way to tell that other guy that I cant take his job.  I know thats wrong!  He knows that I dont have a car until late today so he isnt expecting me until tomorrow.  I need to figure out a way to tell him that I cant work for him.  It feels somehow wrong to me.  I've prayed so hard for a job.  Here I get one and I have to turn it down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else?  OH!!  I was whining about the scale saying 223 wasnt I?  Apparently that was TOM weight.  I stepped on the scale this morning and saw 217.   Isnt that a nice number?  :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;edit...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff0000"&gt;             !!!!!!!!!!! I GOT THE JOB !!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The recruiter just called me.   They were very impressed with me yesterday and would like to offer me the position.  It's a 6 month contract position with the possibility of permenant.   Even if it's 6 months I'll take it!!!  It's SO much more money than what I was making before.  6 months will give me the chance to catch up on all my bills and save a little money too.  Then if the software they're designing takes off I could be hired perm!!   OMG OMG OMG!!  This nightmare is over!!  Even if it turns out to be temporary, at least I can breathe for a little while&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                &lt;a href="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/down.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6984058495236714720?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6984058495236714720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6984058495236714720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6984058495236714720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6984058495236714720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/stuff.html' title='stuff'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8346102526709053899</id><published>2009-07-27T01:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:38:08.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>complicated</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Hello Ladies!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got a job.  Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that I cant take it.  Here’s the story.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I saw an ad on Craigslist last Thursday advertising for a pc tech with starting pay between 20 and 30.00 an hour.   I sent my resume off and hoped for the best.  On Friday I got an email from them asking if I would be available for an interview either over the weekend or next week.  Remember that accident my son got into?  I had already made arrangements to drop my car off at the body shop first thing Monday morning.   So since I knew that I wouldnt have a car all week, I told him that over the weekend was best.  4 days to replace a bumper?!?  There should be a law!  But anyway…  back on track.   He emailed me back on Saturday asking if I could meet with him on Sunday.   As odd as a Sunday interview sounds,  I accepted the meeting.  He said that meeting with him on Sunday earned me bonus points. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The job is pretty straight forward.  Fix whatever comes in.  Go on job sites to install, train or support.  Then he explained the pay schedule.  There is no pay unless I go out on jobs.  I get 35% of all jobs completed but there is no base pay.  He told me 3 times during the hour and a half that I was there that business is slow right now (he blames the economy).   Technically he is right about the 20-30 an hour but he neglected to mention in this ad that the 20-30 an hour is only for hours actually on a job site, not hours waiting for work to come in. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just got an email from him.  He wants me to start tomorrow.  Fulltime from 8:30 to 5:30.  So basically I’d be sitting there (without pay) until a job came in.  If I take this job I will lose my unemployment.  It could be days between jobs.  He charges 75.00 per hour labor and I get 35% of that.  What if there are no jobs coming in?  Then I sit there for free and cant pay my bills at the end of the week.  Since I’m sitting there across the desk from him I cant look for another job and like I said,  I will lose my unemployment checks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;100% commission in this economy?  We’ll be homeless by next &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-8346102526709053899?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8346102526709053899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8346102526709053899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8346102526709053899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8346102526709053899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/complicated.html' title='complicated'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3535074766039647795</id><published>2009-07-21T01:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:36:38.793-04:00</updated><title type='text'>bugs and laundry</title><content type='html'>Thanks for you comments yesterday ladies. I have found so much inspiration in your words on your own blogs and all I do these days is whine.  What must you all think of me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to stay positive but it's so damn hard!  Every day rejection after rejection after rejection.  Every day I get to see the look of disappointment in my boys faces when they want to do something or go somewhere but are afraid to ask because they know what the answer will be.  I feel like I've ruined their lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the economy is in the tank and things are hard for everyone but people ARE getting jobs!  100's of them are posted online every day and I've been passed up for all of them.  I'd planned on going back to school, I researched online universities to death and I'd finally settled on one but was turned down for financial aid.  Rejected by employers.  Rejected by colleges.  Rejected by what I thought was a great guy.  I'm even rejected by a piece of shit guy!  I look in the mirror and see a big FAT ugly failure.  My weight is back up to 223.  I'm losing the same 5 pounds over and over.  Apparently I cant even do that right.  I just dont know how much more I can take. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh look!  MORE whining.  Just what you wanted to see huh? lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                            &lt;center&gt;     &lt;a href="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/whine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-147" src="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/whine-262x300.jpg" alt="" width="206" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so on to hopefully better stuff.  We did laundry yesterday.   I was in my room about to start putting my clothes away and a centipede the size of a schnauzer ran under my bed.  I ran screaming out of them like a little girl! I've been afraid to go in there ever since.  I even slept on the couch.  What if that thing is in there waiting for me to come in?  What if it's crawled up inside my box spring and is in my bed?  Or crawls up on my sheets while I'm sleeping?  OMG what if it's made a new home in my laundry bag with my clean clothes!??!!  I'm So totally screwed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3535074766039647795?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3535074766039647795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3535074766039647795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3535074766039647795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3535074766039647795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/bugs-and-laundry.html' title='bugs and laundry'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6332511238743546379</id><published>2009-07-20T01:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:35:39.381-04:00</updated><title type='text'>not good enough…. again</title><content type='html'>Well.  I didnt get that job either.  She was supposed to call me on Friday.  When she didnt I knew it wasnt a good sign but tried to stay positive.   She just called a few minutes ago.  They went with someone who had more recent restaurant point of sales experience.  The longer I have no job the harder it will be to find a job.  I lost this one to a guy with "more recent experience".  That's the FIFTH second interview I have had.  What the hell is wrong with me?!!??!  &lt;strong&gt;Five second interviews and I still dont have a job?&lt;/strong&gt;  Why wont anybody hire me?  There is always somebody just a little bit better than me who gets the job.  Thats the story of my life.  There is always someone better than me.  Remember that guy that I thought I'd found?  He vanished.  I dont know why.  We were getting along great.  Hours on the phone every night,  long talks over dinner... then he just disappeared.  He went away last weekend for work, said he'd call on Monday when he got home.  He didnt.   I waited until Wednesday before I called him.  He said he was sleeping, said he'd worked a double and was exhausted.  He told me he had to work another double on Thursday but would call me on Friday.  He didnt.  No call Friday or Saturday or Sunday.  I can take a hint.  I wont be calling him again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why cant I ever be good enough?  Good &lt;em&gt;enough&lt;/em&gt; to get a new job.  Good &lt;em&gt;enough&lt;/em&gt; to keep my husband.  Good &lt;em&gt;enough&lt;/em&gt; for 14 years to commit to.  My bodys broken but not broken &lt;em&gt;enough&lt;/em&gt; to be on disability.  I'm not pretty enough or smart enough.  About the only "enough" that I can be is "big enough" or "fat enough".  Oh I'm real good at being fat enough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.  I took my son down the shore again.  We left Friday and got home late last night.  My son had a great time even though we didnt make it back to the boardwalk.   I didnt have ENOUGH money to take him.  Add THAT to the list of "not good enough's".  I was so proud of him.  He asked once on Friday if we could go play more games, I apologized and told him why we couldnt.   He never asked again.  It must have been so hard for him to sit on the beach everyday with the boardwalk in sight.  But he didnt ask.   I know he wanted to but he didnt.  My kids have been forced to grow up so fast it breaks my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6332511238743546379?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6332511238743546379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6332511238743546379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6332511238743546379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6332511238743546379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/not-good-enough-again.html' title='not good enough…. again'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2093304644265873564</id><published>2009-07-15T01:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:34:36.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'>interview/beach</title><content type='html'>I had my interview yesterday.   Sorry that I didnt post when I got home, we had some extra craziness here most of the day.  I got there at 10.  I met with the HR lady who asked me a bunch of questions.    About an hour into our conversation she asked if I'd be available for a second interview.  Of course I said yes and asked when she was thinking of scheduling it.  She said "1:00?"   So I went to lunch and then I went back.  This time I met with the IT manager.  He and I talked for about an hour.   I felt it went REALLY well and apparently I was right.   The HR lady called me a few minutes ago.  She said that she wanted to tell me that I'd done "exceptionally well" and was "at the moment at the top of the list".   They have a few more interviews today and tomorrow but she will definately be calling me Friday with an update.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I hope I hope :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beach was amazing!!  I'd forgotten how much I love the ocean.  We had a great time.  It was my son's first time on the boardwalk and he loved it.  Whenever I take my kids to the beach we go to a quiet little town with no boardwalk to spend $10000 on.   Where we go is just sand and water and they're happy with that.   I thought his eyes were going to explode when he saw all the rides, food and games.  I gave him 40 bucks and told him that was all the money we had to spend, so spend it wisely.   He played air hockey, basketball and a racing car video game at the arcade.  He put 2 bucks into one of those machines with the claw in it to try and win an ipod.  He put his money in, he positioned the claw directly over one of the ipod boxes and hit drop (or whatever that stupid thing says).  The claw fell onto the box and picked it up.  He was all kinds of happy thinking he'd won then the box fell out of the claw.  He was so funny!  "OMG what a gip!".  He won a Scene It: Pirates of the Caribbean game at one of the wheel stands (his first try too) but his favorite part of the night was getting to shoot some poor guy at a paint ball stand.  He was really upset that it cost 10.00 for 100 paint balls and it was over in about 40 seconds but he loved that he hit the guy so many times.  I was proud of him for not spending all of his money.  He learned quick after the ipod incident...  most of those games are designed for people to lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/seaside_heights_boardwalk_one_mile_long.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-143" src="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/seaside_heights_boardwalk_one_mile_long.jpg" alt="" width="250" height="190" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/jenkinsons_casino_pier_seaside_heights_nj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-144" src="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/jenkinsons_casino_pier_seaside_heights_nj.jpg" alt="" width="250" height="190" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home around midnight.  We had such a nice time.  We drove home without the radio on and talked until our cheeks hurt... THAT was my favorite part of the day.   My friend has the house until Saturday so we might go back down Thursday and come home on Friday.  Have to see if I can afford it or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2093304644265873564?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2093304644265873564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2093304644265873564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2093304644265873564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2093304644265873564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/interviewbeach.html' title='interview/beach'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-747689784784465775</id><published>2009-07-12T01:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:33:46.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'>beach tomorrow!</title><content type='html'>My friend rented a beach house for 2 weeks and every day she asks me to come down there. But every day my son has had my car for work so I cant but he's off tomorrow. Now I SHOULD be responsible and take it to get an estimate on that body work but I'm not. I'll do that on Wednesday (his last day of work). Tomorrow I'm goin to da beech!! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/jerseyshore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-141" alt="" src="http://www.3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/07/jerseyshore-300x225.jpg" width="300" height="225" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh.... and I'm NOT wearing a bathing suit :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-747689784784465775?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/747689784784465775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=747689784784465775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/747689784784465775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/747689784784465775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/beach-tomorrow.html' title='beach tomorrow!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-626931905913021217</id><published>2009-07-10T01:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:31:39.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>trying again</title><content type='html'>This morning I saw a posting on monster.com.  I replied to it and sent my resume.   After monster I always check Craigslist.  I saw that same posting and replied to it again.   Then I saw a fax number on that craigslist posting.  I faxed my resume too!  lol   The woman called me a little while ago.   I have an interview with her on Tuesday.  I want this job.  I can do this job.  It’s exactly what I did at my old job except its a restaurant chain and not fitness store chain.  If I dont get this job I’m jumping off the roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldnt sleep last night.  At 2am I got up out of bed, took out the biggest bowl in the cabinet and filled it to the top with Capn Crunch with Crunchberrys.   I know that eating at that time is a HUGE no-no but I couldnt help myself.  To make up for it I had a slimfast shake for breakfast and a Lean Cuisine chicken dish for lunch.  Capn Crunch isnt THAT bad calorie wise.  3/4 of a cup = 1 serving and 1 serving with 1/2 cup of skim milk is 140 calories.  I’m going to estimate that my bowl was about 2 cups.  And you know what?  Those Lean Cuisine people should be ashamed of themselves!   I had one of the baked chicken meal thingys.  The tray was small enough to fit on a dessert plate and 2 of the smallest pieces of chicken that I have ever seen!  That’s not food!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son has had my car again all week.   I feel like a prisoner in my apartment.  I cant go anywhere on my own.   Right now I’m waiting for my mother to finish work so that she can drive me to Costcos.  I still havent even gotten an estimate for how much the repair from his accident is going to cost me.  I called it into the insurance company the next day but havent done anything else.    He has the car from 11 in the morning until 11 at night.   There’s been no time to have it checked out.   I have to get it checked out soon, I dont know how long I have from the time I file the report until it’s fixed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-626931905913021217?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/626931905913021217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=626931905913021217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/626931905913021217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/626931905913021217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/trying-again.html' title='trying again'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4954943093151013133</id><published>2009-07-09T01:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:30:50.787-04:00</updated><title type='text'>wrong</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Somehow I misjudged how well my interview went the other day.   I felt it went really well.  The woman that I interviewed with even asked my availability for Thursday and told me that she’d be calling me with a time to meet with the director.   Somehow I misunderstood or something because she never called.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I blew off that other interview.  I got all dressed, got my paperwork &amp;amp; resumes together, grabbed my keys and thought “whats the point?” and sat back down.   What was the point of driving all that way for nothing.  I wasnt going to get that job either. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I’m having a lot of “whats the point” moments lately and I dont know what to do about them. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4954943093151013133?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4954943093151013133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4954943093151013133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4954943093151013133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4954943093151013133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/wrong.html' title='wrong'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-189148806866587953</id><published>2009-07-07T01:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:29:45.863-04:00</updated><title type='text'>technology hiatus</title><content type='html'>I took a hiatus from all technology.   Everytime I turned on the computer or the tv I felt sick and turned it off.   I'm truely sorry if any of you were his fans but the whole media circus around this pervert turns my stomach.   In my opinion the second he was accused to indecent acts against children everything that he did in his career became null &amp;amp; void. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When his sister accused him of molesting her I said "oh she's just jealous" and a few weeks later she recanted.  Then comes the maid and her son and I thought "they just want money" but then comes this other kid and &lt;em&gt;then&lt;/em&gt; comes this little cancer patient.  One accusation you can ignore.  But FOUR?!!?  How many DONT we know about?  I believe that Latoya recanted because she caved into the family pressure.  He paid the maid $2 million to shut up.  He paid that first little boy (Jordy Chandler) and his family in the neighborhood of $22 million dollars to shut up right before the police were about to file formal charges.   If I were accused of a crime and I knew that I was innocent I'd pay my attorneys 22 million dollars to get me publically acquitted,  not pay my accusors to disappear.   And this 3rd little boy.   How in the world would he have known about a birthmark on MJ's genitals??  I watched news coverage of that trial and what I saw would have made OJ's lawyers proud. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a man who admitted to giving young children alcohol.  Who admitted to sleeping with children on national tv.   What do you have to hide if you have 4 locks on your bedroom door?  You can see it in the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Am67-Sew7k&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;"ghost video"&lt;/a&gt; that my son made me watch.  4 locks, right there plain as day.  The camera even focus's on them.  I dont have 4 locks on my bedroom door.  Do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The news coverage and public worship of this man is disgusting.  They're calling him a musical genius yet he hasnt done anything worth bragging about in 15 years.  Well... other than being arrested for child sex abuse and paying off other accusors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what else made me nuts?  Everyone saying "he was taken from us so early"  He wasnt taken! He killed himself!  Whether intentionally or not,  the man spent the last 20 years addicted to pain killers.  He admitted to friends and family that he had an addiction but instead of getting help he choose to continue self-medicating.  You gotta know that kind of abuse eventually catches up to you.  HE even knew!!  Lisa Marie has gone on record as saying that he told her he would &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,529186,00.html"&gt;"end up like Elvis&lt;/a&gt;".   If you were afraid you'd end up dead like Elvis wouldnt you stop doing the things that Elvis did?  But yeah, everyone is shocked and amazed that he's dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our economy is still in the tank, soldiers are dieing,  trains are crashing,  people are revolting and this guy tops the headlines every day for over a week?!?  Hopefully since his funeral was today the news can go back to what's really important.  Speaking of that funeral... overkill anyone?  I didnt watch it but did it have to be on EVERY CHANNEL?  Even ESPN covered it!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...  rant over :)  I'm sorry if I offended anyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats been going on since I boycotted the media?   I didnt get that job.  The guy was a jerk so I'm kind of relieved.  Since I havent been on the internet I havent checked Monster for new postings but I have been getting emails from recruiters on my blackberry.   I had a telephone interview on Thursday that resulted in an in-person interview today which turned into a "meet the director" interview on this Thursday.   I'm pretty confident that I got this job but I'm not sure that I can afford to take it.   On the one hand it's  a home office setup so I dont have to worry about commuting or traffic or "bad back days" (of which there are many).  On the other hand, it's 8k less than what I made at my last job.  That's a HUGE paycut.  But on another hand lots of people are being asked to take paycuts or work less hours these days but yet another hand smacks me in the head and reminds me that we were barely surviving on what I made before.  How many hands is that anyway? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have another interview tomorrow for another company.  This one is about 45 minutes away (over an hour in traffic - not sure I can sit that long) and 15k MORE than what I made at my last job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might have met someone but I'm not going to jinx it by saying anything outloud yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son #2 passed his road test and got his license on Monday.  He got a job on Tuesday and wrecked my car on Wednesday :)  But you know what?  I've FINALLY gotten below the 220 line!!!  I weigh 219 but it's under 220 so it counts :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-189148806866587953?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/189148806866587953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=189148806866587953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/189148806866587953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/189148806866587953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/07/technology-hiatus.html' title='technology hiatus'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4473708996201397693</id><published>2009-06-25T01:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:28:54.432-04:00</updated><title type='text'>nervous</title><content type='html'>I have a job interview today at 1:30.   A recruiter called me the other day, she'd found my resume online and wanted to talk.  Apparently this is a standard 250 user Windows environment.  They have one IT guy who is having a problem keeping up with his job.  The recruiter seems to think this guy just has a problem with time management.  I have to agree.  I single handedly supported 400 users.  I was the only person in our IT department.  I did it all.  Server maintenence, backups, upgrades.  User support.   I managed all of the companies telecommunications devices from Blackberrys to cordless wall phones.  I handled the alarm companys,  phone companys,  Software/Hardware vendors, internet connections/firewall/routers in 2 corporate offices and over 100 stores.   I was the level 1, 2 and 3 IT girl.  If it broke, I had to fix it - no matter what it was- because I was the only one there.   Anyway, this is the same sort of job except there'd be two of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What scares me the most about this interview is that it's in New York.   NYC is an easy commute for normal people but I'm not normal.   To get to this job I'd have to walk 5 blocks to the bus.  Take that bus to another bus and that bus into Port Authority.  From Port Authority I have to walk a block to the E train then walk 2 more blocks once I get off.   Thats a LOT of walking for someone like me.  I'm thinking I can ask my mother or son to drive me to bus #2 so that I dont have to walk that 5 blocks OR I could drive to it and park my car on a side street somewhere close to the bus stop.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I can handle this job.  I'm just not sure I can handle the commute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!  I have to get ready. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;edit....&lt;/em&gt;  ohhh.   I just read an article on what larger women should wear for job interviews.  &lt;a href="http://www.ehow.com/how_4515800_dress-job-interview-plussized-woman.html"&gt;http://www.ehow.com/how_4515800_dress-job-interview-plussized-woman.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;says here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Select the right pair of shoes. Never wear an open toed-shoe to a job interview. Even designer sandals are off limits and will look frivolous. The shoes should be high quality leather and should have some heel but not too much. One or two inch heels are fine and will help you feel more grounded when you strut across the room. &lt;strong&gt;Flats are not appropriate for an interview.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant wear heels...  like ever.  I have a doctors note!  (lol I really do!)  I bought a pair of Sketcher platform clogs a few months ago.  They were so pretty I had to have them.  I was able to wear them for 5 minutes before the pain in my back was so bad that I was crying.  Should I mention my shoes?  I mean, if you're not supposed to wear them somebody will probably notice that I am wearing them right?   Maybe that's why I havent gotten any of these other jobs.  My shoes are all wrong.  I wish a was a man.  They're allowed to wear flats and their wardrobe choices are so much simpler  :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I'm rambling.   Cant put this off any longer.  It's time to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4473708996201397693?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4473708996201397693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4473708996201397693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4473708996201397693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4473708996201397693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/nervous.html' title='nervous'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6177052766319381370</id><published>2009-06-22T01:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:28:01.612-04:00</updated><title type='text'>blah</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Same shit, different day.   No resume responses, no phone calls.  I’m starting to worry.  I have 4 months of unemployment left and I’m not even getting called back.  Whats going to happen to us if I dont find a job?   I am the only paycheck coming in the house.  Even if I filed for bankruptcy to get rid of the credit cards and car payment I’d still have to pay 1200.00 for rent and other bills and food and I wouldnt even have a car to get around in.  My middle boy gets his license next week.   I’m terrified to see what thats going to turn my car insurance bill into, it’s already almost 200 a month with just me on the policy.  I cant just take any job,  I have to earn at least 45k to pay these bills by myself and that’s bare minimum.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My oldest helps as much as he can but he cant find a job either.  He’s been delivering pizza since he got laid off (he worked at the same place that I did in one of the stores).  He’s barely making enough to cover his car payment and insurance.   His dreams of law enforcement have been squashed, he doesnt even know what else he wants to do.   I keep hoping he’ll go to college but he doesnt know what he’d study.   I swear, I wish there wasnt a war on.  I’d suggest he go into the military.  It’s a great place to jump start your life and career, but I’m not suggesting that to him now.   Call me selfish but people are dieing over there.   Dont get me wrong,  if he came to me tonight and said thats what he really wanted to do I wouldnt talk him out of it but I’m not going to be the one to bring it up. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So yeah.  I’m worrying. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6177052766319381370?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6177052766319381370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6177052766319381370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6177052766319381370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6177052766319381370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/blah.html' title='blah'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7787748971283330339</id><published>2009-06-20T01:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:26:40.421-04:00</updated><title type='text'>rain, rain go away</title><content type='html'>We have had almost 2 full weeks of rain and because of it I have been an absolute bitch. We all know that I have major back problems. We also know that I have osteoarthritis in my back. All the rain we have had I think the hardware in my back is rusting, sometimes I think I can actually hear it squeak when I move. The pain has been outrageous. Most days I havent even been able to get out of bed. Needless to say my diet has tanked :( When I last posted I weighed 223. Today I stepped on the scale and it said 228. I'm back on daily pain medicine which has made me swell up like a hot air balloon. I can barely sit up so we know I cant exercise. I also cant cook. We're been existing on pizza and microwaveable frozen trash with sodium counts so high it makes my head spin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother has been here almost every day to help out. I love her to death but she makes me crazy. My mom treats every illness or pain with cake or muffins or big macs &amp;amp; french fries. I dont buy the stuff but she does. Since she's been here there is always some kind of junk in the house and my willpower is medicated and non-existant. Not good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About the only thing I have managed to do over these past 2 weeks is search jobs on the laptop. I send out on average 2 resumes a day. Havent gotten a single call back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 years finally showed up with some child support the other night. He got here at 11:00 at night &amp;amp; wanted to see his son. I told him he has school the next day but gave him 5 minutes. After all, he hadnt seen the kid in over 2 weeks (what a great father) Our son went to bed and he sat on the edge of my bed watching the tv show that I had on. I had been watching that show on Discovery "How the Earth was made". He watched a few minutes of it, got up and told me I was stupid for watching stuff like that. "Isnt there a movie or something on?". So he leaves. Not 5 minutes later he's on the phone screaming at me because "my boyfriend was downstairs waiting for him to leave". I've mentioned that I live in a 6 family house havent I? There are 5 other families here in this building with me. 4 of them are wonderful and we have a real family atmosphere, until the people moved into apt 2 we didnt even lock our doors. The guy in apartment 1 is in his mid-30's. He's a single father with custody of all 4 of his kids. He spends a lot of time on the porch smoking. Apparently he was out there when the piece of shit left. Being the class A asshole that he is, he assumed this guy was out there waiting for him to leave so he could come up here. He and I have been broken up for 7 months yet he still feels he needs to yell at me for stuff like that. He bitches if I dont call him every day. When he calls me and I'm out he demands to know where I am, who I'm with and what I'm doing. When I dont answer he leaves the nastiest voicemail messages. One night I was out with a friend and he called. I knew what I'd be in for if I answered so I didnt, I sent the call to voicemail. Later that night I played the message. He cursed me out in 2 languages. "What kind of mother goes out, leaves her kids alone and doesnt answer the *#&amp;amp;$#*&amp;amp; phone" "First of all, my children arent babies, 2 are teenagers and one is a full grown adult. Second of all, I answered the phone for my kids. I just didnt answer for YOU!" That's the kind of stuff he's been putting me through and yesterday my last straw broke. I set new boundaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tried to keep a civil relationship with this caveman for the sake of our son. But I've let him yell, scream, accuse and beat me down for the last time. Yesterday I told him that he is no longer allowed to curse at me. He is no longer allowed to accuse me of anything. What I do or dont do is no longer any of his business. I will not be calling him every day unless there is a problem with Jr. Our son has a cell phone, if he wants to speak to him he needs to call that number and not my home number any more. I expect him to be here on Mondays with his child support (the FULL amount.. not bits and pieces like he has been giving me). For 6 months I have tried to be civil. I dont know what made me think Neanderthals were capable of civility. Sometimes I wish they'd revoke his Visa and deport him back to his mother country. He hates this country anyway. For 14 years all I heard was how how messed up America was and how wonderful Italy is. GO BACK THERE!!! Please let him go back there before I kill him! I wonder if chronic pain can be used as a legal defense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/06/neanderthal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-134" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/06/neanderthal-300x284.jpg" width="300" height="284" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's where I've been for these past few weeks. In bed, in pain... fighting off my mothers greasy, fried food intentions, dealing with an ex and getting rejected on a daily basis by job postings. I've not been a happy person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you ladies who have sent me messages. I'm sorry that I disappeared without a word. You're all amazing women and I'm so blessed to have met you in the weird way we've all become friends :) I've thought about you often. I've wondered how your lives are, how your kids are, if your homes or books sold. I just didnt have the physical strength to sit up long enough to say hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh hey! Guess what? It's going to rain all week again!! /cry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7787748971283330339?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7787748971283330339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7787748971283330339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7787748971283330339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7787748971283330339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/rain-rain-go-away.html' title='rain, rain go away'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7213261578738699334</id><published>2009-06-07T01:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:24:20.688-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ouch!</title><content type='html'>Everything hurts and I mean everything.   We went to Costcos, then to Foreman Mills then Target. And about an hour after I got home I went for a walk with my neighbor around the block.  Well....  almost all around.  I had to call for a ride home halfway, I couldnt take another step.  I hurt so much my heart rate went from 87 resting to 118 just walking my neighbors son across the hallway to his apartment.   My son and I are now on the couch watching Al Pacino movies.  I LOVE HIM!!  First we watched the end of Scarface, now we're watching Righteous Kill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the kind of day that I wish that I had a pedometer.   I dont know how much I walked but I burned more calories today than I ever have with normal exercise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;total calories today:  1099&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories burned: 3342&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;total carbs:  111&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  35&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span&gt;total protein:  46&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7213261578738699334?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7213261578738699334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7213261578738699334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7213261578738699334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7213261578738699334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/ouch.html' title='ouch!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5074029197749941517</id><published>2009-06-06T01:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:23:15.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a little Friday funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Comic Sans MS';color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;(Something to think about when negative people are doing their best to rain on your parade.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband.. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who said, "Rome ? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome . How are you getting there?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!" "Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser. "That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. Where are you staying in Rome ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome 's Tiber River called Teste." "Don't go any further" she said. "I know that place. Everybody thinks it's gonna be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope." "That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. "You and a million other people are trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"It was wonderful," said the woman, "Not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, so they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot. The hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5-million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel -- the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"Actually, we were quite lucky. As we toured the Vatican , a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"Oh, really! What'd he say?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;He said, "Who fucked up your hair?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5074029197749941517?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5074029197749941517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5074029197749941517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5074029197749941517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5074029197749941517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/little-friday-funny.html' title='a little Friday funny'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5285321586582720238</id><published>2009-06-05T01:17:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:21:10.557-04:00</updated><title type='text'>what a way to go</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I just read that David Carradine died. I loved him in the Kill Bill movies :( The article is &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/06/05/AR2009060500909.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and it says the cause of his death was either an accident, suicide or a sex game gone bad. He was found naked in a closet in a Bangkok hotel on Thursday with cords around his neck and his genitals. Somehow I doubt it was suicide, I'm thinking there are much easier and much less embarrassing ways to do yourself in. Wow. My heart goes out to his family.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;8:30pm...&lt;/em&gt; Dinner was outrageous! I made a recipe for chicken that I got from a sparkpeople email. OMG it was so good!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline;font-size:100%;color:#cc9933;"  &gt;Sticky Chicken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h4 style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1 teaspoon salt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1 teaspoon white pepper &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 2 teaspoons paprika &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1 teaspoon onion powder &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1 teaspoon thyme &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1/2 teaspoon black pepper &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1 large roasting chicken (3-4 lbs.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;· 1 cup chopped onion &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt; &lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;1. In a small bowl, thoroughly combine all the spices. Remove giblets from chicken, clean the cavity well and pat dry with paper towels. Rub the spice mixture into the chicken, both inside and out, making sure it is evenly distributed and down deep into the skin. Place in a resealable plastic bag, seal and refrigerate overnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. When ready to roast chicken, stuff cavity with onions, and place in a shallow baking pan. Roast, uncovered, at 250 F for 5 hours. After the first hour, baste the chicken occasionally (every half hour or so) with pan juices. The pan juice will start to caramelize on the bottom of the pan and the chicken will turn golden brown. If the chicken contains a pop-up thermometer, ignore it. Let chicken rest about 10 minutes before carving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes 4 servings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldnt work out today. It was another of those cold, rainy days that I cant move on. But I did manage to go shopping. My mother called, she and my brother were going to Kohls (he needs shorts for their vacation) so I went along for the ride. My brother headed for the mens department and I made a bee-line for my favorite section.... &lt;strong&gt;THE CLEARANCE ISLE&lt;/strong&gt;. I bought 4 pair of jeans, 2 white tops and a pair of sandals for 62.00 (I sold one of my spare computers so I had some extra money). I havent worn jeans in years and have been desperate to get a few pair. And the best part? I'm 2 sizes smaller than I used to be :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course that little shopping trip ruined my day. I spent the rest of the day on the couch, staring at the dog hair on the carpet and the dust on the tv. I couldnt do anything about it. It's taken me years to learn this next little lesson... the mess will be there tomorrow and, hopefully, tomorrow I'll feel well enough to do it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;total calories today: 1448 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories burned: 1812&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;total carbs: 201&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total fat: 35&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;total protein: 82&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;(sorry Sunny, the only way to fix this was to delete and start over so I lost your comment... stupid web designers and their bad table formatting!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;oh and Bee? Nope, havent heard from the job from the other day. I kind of didnt expect to from the way they handled themselves. Shame on them. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 6pt 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 6pt 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;ohhh!! check out this handy little tip (I love stuff like this)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 6pt 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.familyhack.com/2007/08/29/drain-tip/"&gt;http://www.familyhack.com/2007/08/29/drain-tip/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5285321586582720238?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5285321586582720238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5285321586582720238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5285321586582720238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5285321586582720238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/what-way-to-go.html' title='what a way to go'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5995725483499454098</id><published>2009-06-04T01:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:17:14.407-04:00</updated><title type='text'>no more Howard Stern hair</title><content type='html'>Last night I dyed my hair. Now realize something, I've been dying my hair for so long that I dont even remember what my natural color is :) I've been doing brown for months. Yesterday I got tired of it so I bought a box of super light blonde. You know how the boxes all say "if your hair color is this... you will get this". I'm here to tell you that THEY LIE! The box said that if your hair is medium brown you will end up with a medium blonde (the box said ultra light blonde). Well!! lol My hair was 4 different colors. The roots were so blonde they were white. The ends were this brownish, yellowy color. There was a little bit of medium blonde but mostly it was red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm talking to my friend this morning and I tell her what I did to myself last night. She says to come to her salon and she'd fix it for me. 3 hours later I looked like this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/06/picture-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-127" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/06/picture-3.jpg" width="196" height="162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(sorry for the bad picture... I &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HATE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; pictures) I normally have very curly, frizzy, Howard Stern looking hair. She cut it, dyed it, put highlights then blow dried it straight. I look almost good! lol I just hope that I can fix it the way that she did tomorrow. You know what else I noticed? My face is much thinner than it was almost a year ago on my drivers license picture. Thats right ladies.... I stepped on the scale today and it said 224!!!! I cannot believe how long it's taken me to lose those few pounds. I know, I know... slow and steady wins the race but sometimes I wish this race had a quicker pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;oday: 1233&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories burned: 2483&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total carbs: 100&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total fat: 72 (+)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total protein: 47 (-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5995725483499454098?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5995725483499454098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5995725483499454098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5995725483499454098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5995725483499454098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-more-howard-stern-hair.html' title='no more Howard Stern hair'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-1591297823025019246</id><published>2009-06-03T01:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:15:52.589-04:00</updated><title type='text'>interview</title><content type='html'>I went for that interview today. I'm not sure how it went since I never saw the guy that I was supposed to meet with. I got there at exactly 2:00. I was wandering around the hallways trying to find the right office door to open and this girl walked past. She asked what I was looking for so I told her. She walked me to the door then asked who I was there to see. When I told her that I was there to see Steve she said that he's her boss and she took me to another door. A few minutes later someone named Fred came out. Steve's busy but asked him to speak to me. He took me into the server room for my interview (he said it was the only empty room they had at the moment). OK, fine. I dont know how many of you have ever been in a computer server room but it's cold and loud, it made the whole thing very uncomfortable. So I talk to Fred for a while. He tells me what the company does, asks if I've had experience tracking down hacking attempts &amp;amp; dos attacks... yes I have. Then he goes to get Steve. In walks the girl who showed me to the door. She says that Steve is still busy so she was sent in to talk to me. She begins to tell me about the work environment, how people are promoted from *the desk*, how the last 2 people who had the job didnt work out. She asks me a couple of "what would you do it" questions and leaves to get Steve. Here comes yet another guy who isnt Steve. He's asking me all these questions about MS Exchange. I answer his questions but am very confused. The girl told me that Exchange was a very minor part of the job yet this guys questions are all about it. Not that I cared, I can administer Exchange in my sleep. But it was still odd. He goes off to get Steve. He comes back and says that Steve is in a vendor meeting and will have to reschedule. I dont know, maybe I'm too sensitive but I found that to be incredibly rude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I didnt track my food today. I was too stressed to eat. My new blackberry sort of blew up, I had to fix that. Then I had the interview. I got home from the interview at 4 then remembered that the rabbit needed food. So I had to go back out and get that. When we got home I was in so much pain that I went straight to the couch. Son #2 bbq'd chicken. I had one piece of chicken and went to bed with my laptop. All that I had to eat all day was a piece of chicken and a hand full of Mike &amp;amp; Ike candys (stolen from son #3 :D)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-1591297823025019246?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/1591297823025019246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=1591297823025019246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1591297823025019246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1591297823025019246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/interview.html' title='interview'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-1004635947899092709</id><published>2009-06-01T01:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:14:31.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I completed my first day of the 30 Day Challenge on my EA Active. I'm using it with my Wii Fit but you dont have to. It made me run 3 times, box 3 times, inline skate, arm curls and rows and side lunges. I was sweating like it was 100 degrees lol Now, 8 hours later I can barely move. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. I HATE that I have to be careful. Sometimes I just want to do it all like normal people do. Then I remember that I'm damaged and will probably never be normal again. But that's ok. I get the good parking spots at the mall :D The little bit that I am able to do is enough for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went shopping today. Son #3 needed a new headset for his computer so I took him to Target to get one. They had bathing suits on sale. 40% off! My suits from last year are a 20. I've already lost 17 pounds so I got a 16. I figure they're stretchy so it should fit. It's the skirt kind, pretty blue with gold highlights. I also got a blue coverup. Boy do I need a coverup! lol I was teasing my son by telling him I was going to get a string bikini. Even when I was a size 7 I never had the courage to wear a bikini. Sometimes I wish that I had that kind of confidence but I never have. I dont expect that will change even after I've reached my goal. I saw on Sunnys blog that she's buying herself a really pretty bracelet as a reward for losing 20 pounds. If she doesnt mind I think I'm going to borrow that idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a job interview on Tuesday. The recruiter called me today and we set it up. The job is a little farther away than I'd like but the pay is right. And I think I like the hours (as weird as they are). 7am to 7pm on Sunday. 7am - 2pm Monday &amp;amp; Tuesday and 2pm to 1am on Wednesday. I'd have Thursday, Friday and Saturday off. I like the idea of 3 days off and I dont think the distance thing will be an issue. Normally I wouldnt have considered a job 40 mintues away from home because that 40 minutes becomes almost an hour and a half when you factor in traffic. I cant sit for more than half an hour at a time, my back starts to cramp up and the pain is outrageous! But with having to be there at 7, there wont be any traffic. I'm not getting my hopes up. We'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still not getting emails from this site. I dont know what the problem is but I dont. I used to, but I dont anymore. I think I'll email a moderator. Could be something needs resetting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I just ask one more thing? Whats with the 8:00 eating?!?!? I havent had an appetite all day long. What little I did eat I forced myself to eat. But come 8:00 and I cant stop thinking about food. What the hell is that about!?!!? lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nite Chickies :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;oday: 837&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories burned: 2852&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total carbs: 104&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total fat: 32&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total protein: 33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-1004635947899092709?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/1004635947899092709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=1004635947899092709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1004635947899092709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1004635947899092709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-completed-my-first-day-of-30-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6121828029837999196</id><published>2009-05-31T01:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:12:05.753-04:00</updated><title type='text'>better</title><content type='html'>Slightly better day, at least things are clearer now.  Not resolved, but definately clearer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I get to my notsoexciting day I need to thank a bunch of amazing ladies for their thoughts, prayers and time.  I didnt expect it.  It was a wonderful surprise.  I thought that I was alone and found out that I wasnt, not by a long shot.  I pray that someday I can repay the favor :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today by comparison was boring.  I slept until 10,  stayed in bed until 11 and cleaned my livingroom.  That was about all that I could manage both physically and mentally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did manage to find this little beauty tho.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/backward.jpg" alt="" width="465" height="399" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words to live by my friends..  Words to live by :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories today:  1113&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories burned: 2305&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total carbs:  120&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  53&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total protein:  39&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6121828029837999196?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6121828029837999196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6121828029837999196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6121828029837999196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6121828029837999196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/better.html' title='better'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_backward.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4560830774172422456</id><published>2009-05-30T01:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:11:17.401-04:00</updated><title type='text'>alone</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;sometimes, I wish a couple of you chicks lived closer.  I wish we really knew each other live and in person.  I feel so completely alone  and desperate and I there’s not a living soul that I can talk to about it.  Something really bad just happened with my son and I have nobody to talk to about it.  I cant talk to my mother, she’d lose her mind.   I dont have a husband or boyfriend who will listen.  I cant tell my friends,  they’re all full of “you’ve done such a good job raising them yourself”.  How can I possibly tell them that I’ve failed?  And here’s me always bragging about how great my kids are.  Helpful, mature and responsible.  God am I full of shit! What’s that they say about pride and failing?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to eat it all away.  I want to dive into a vat of chocolate marshmellow ice cream or inhale a cherry cheesecake or a bag of potato chips and I dont think I have the willpower to resist.  I wish some of you were here because you’d understand that urge and maybe, just maybe you’d give me the strength to fight it.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4560830774172422456?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4560830774172422456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4560830774172422456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4560830774172422456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4560830774172422456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/alone.html' title='alone'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2654261823181516454</id><published>2009-05-29T01:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:09:57.305-04:00</updated><title type='text'>gray days</title><content type='html'>I have a friend who had bone cancer...  44 years old and she's already suffered more than any one person should have to.  She had some surgery,  couple of bones replaced and she's in remission now thank God.   Last night we were talking, she's losing a lot of weight again and is too afraid to call the doctor.  I tried my best to convince her to go, that her husband and kids need her.  She looked at me and said "I'm just tired of fighting", she wants to give in.  She's my friend and I'm not about to let her do that but my head went somewhere 30 shades of wrong on the drive home.   I found myself almost jealous.  Here she is losing all this weight without even trying, and he's me suffering a life without cheesecake.   I found myself wishing I could get cancer.   I KNOW!!  I KNOW!!  I'm a seriously depraved, horrible person and I'm going straight to hell.   It's not just the weight thing.  I know how she's feeling, obviously not the cancer part but I know about being tired enough to just want to sleep and never, ever wake up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whatever.   I'm a mess.  A mess that's going straight to hell  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldnt work out today.   It's cold and damp and I've been stuck in this chair since I woke up.   My son bought me a &lt;a href="http://www.homedics.com/products/therapist-select-shiatsu-massage-pillow.html"&gt;shiatsu pillow &lt;/a&gt;on Sunday.   OMG this thing is wonderful!  It's been on all day.  It has a 20 minute autoshut off so every 20 minutes I move it up or down my back.  LOVE IT!!   I think he got it for me to heal my broken heart.   He and the girlfriend that I loved broke up.   I wrote about her &lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/?p=73"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.   Today he kept trying to get me to smoke pot.  Strange thing for a son to ask his mother to do dont ya think?  lol   He's serious.  He came at me with 60 pages of material he printed off the internet about how marijuana helps people with chronic pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's exactly what I need.  I need to smoke a joint so I can run screaming into a bag of doritos  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                  &lt;img src="http://www.reschedulecannabis.com/medical-marijuana.gif" alt="" width="349" height="153" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back after dinner :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;10:30pm.....&lt;/em&gt;   My Blackberry came today!  Considering I only bought it Tuesday and it came with free shipping, I wasnt expecting it until sometime next week.   I put all my pictures and music on it, spent all night setting up ringtones, caller id pictures &amp;amp; programs.  I'm happy.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else?  Oh!  I was actually able to do a little exercise today afterall.  Nothing like yesterday where I got in 20 minutes at once.   No, today was more 4 minutes here....  5 minutes there.  I dont know how many minutes it all totalled out to be but I burned almost as many calories today as I did yesterday which is good.  I know that it's not really the same but it's all I got.   My son tells me all the time that unless my heart rate is high I'm not really doing much good.  But my thing is even doing the smallest things raises my heart rate (pain response).  I dont know, maybe I'm just lieing to myself.  Either way I'm going to spend every day doing what I can, when I can for however long I can.   Eventually it will get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories today:  1492 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories burned: 2473&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total carbs:  205&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  48 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total protein:  62&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2654261823181516454?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2654261823181516454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2654261823181516454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2654261823181516454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2654261823181516454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/gray-days.html' title='gray days'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8605923553575660462</id><published>2009-05-28T01:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:08:41.027-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been wearing my &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Impact-Sports-Strapless-Monitor-Calorimeter/dp/B0019ZDIOK"&gt;epulse&lt;/a&gt; for a couple of days now and I have to say I'm loving most of it.  It tracks my heart rate, displays my minimum/maximum heart rates for the day,  tells me what my calorie burning zone is and how many calories I've burned in a day.  It does everything that I want it to do.  The one thing that it doesnt do that I wish it did was beep when my heart rate reaches that max burn number, I think that'd be a cool feature.  But oh well, I can manually check.  I get 3 and a half days on a regular battery,  that should double with the more expensive lithium batterys.   Something strange tho.  I bought rechargables for it but I only get a couple of hours of use with those.   This seems to run better on regular batterys.  It's a good thing that they're so cheap now.  I buy the Panasonic batterys at the grocery store,  costs me $1.68 for a 4 pack.   I used to spend more than that a day on Twinkies :)  Sucks that it gets shitty life on the rechargables tho,  but at least batterys are recyclable so I dont feel too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to do 20 minutes of cardio today with &lt;a href="http://www.nintendo.com/games/detail/4g1xoYv-pBuBjGBqCS-nGN1GKR4OLQEc"&gt;My Fitness Coach&lt;/a&gt;!  YAY!!  Usually I can only get about 13-15 minutes in before the my back starts screaming at me.  Yesterday my son bought me my &lt;a href="http://www.easportsactive.com/home.action"&gt;EA Active &lt;/a&gt; for my Wii (he's too good to me). I cant wait to start using it.   I want to try the 30 day challenge and I'm thinking about incorporating weights.  I've been reading that weight training helps burn more fat than almost any other exercise.  Since the amount of time I can actually do it is limited,  I'd like to get the most out of what little I can do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/eas_active_boxing1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-116" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/eas_active_boxing1-300x190.jpg" alt="" width="209" height="176" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/ea_sports_active_wii1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-118" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/ea_sports_active_wii1-300x232.jpg" alt="" width="189" height="162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/ea_sports_active_wii.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exercise is difficult for me for a couple of reasons.  First of all,  my physical limitations.  If it's cold, damp or raining I cant even start.  Somedays when I think about exercise I remember how hard it is for me and how much pain it causes and I think "what's the point" and I dont even start.   Then there are other days (most days) where I cant stay focused enough.  I get bored with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going out to a Karaoke bar tonight.   I'm not singing but it should be fun.   OH!!  I won an auction for my Blackberry!  :)  I got a red Balckberry Curve.  I was bidding on both the Curve and a Motorola Q9c.   The Q is a Windows Mobile device.  When it was first released a few years ago, the Q sucked!  I've read that it's gotten better and I was really looking forward to the extended battery life.  But the auction for the BB was over first.  It should be here next week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories today:  1258 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories burned: 2486&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total carbs:  137&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  59 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total protein:  44&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-8605923553575660462?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8605923553575660462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8605923553575660462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8605923553575660462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8605923553575660462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/ive-been-wearing-my-epulse-for-couple.html' title=''/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2689233962030418528</id><published>2009-05-26T01:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:07:19.948-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ebay</title><content type='html'>I havent posted in a few days, theres been nothing worth posting about.  My diet has once again stalled.  I got rid of the Olive Garden guy.  I had too much to drink on Saturday but you knew that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I decided to dump my cell phone.  I hate it!  It's bulky and obnoxious.  I've hated it from the day that I got the stupid thing.   I'll explain.   I got my phone the day after I got laid off.   For years I'd had a company Blackberry but when they let me go I had to return it.  I opened a Sprint account and had the number ported out.  I got one of the regular phones because I didnt have the money to get another BB or PDA like I wanted.  I thought that I could live with.  I was wrong.  I have hated every minute that I have spent on this thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called Sprint to see if I could upgrade.  They said no,  my account is too new... havent established a payment rating yet blah blah blah.   They offered me one for 579.00.   I hate my phone THAT much  lol.  So I went to ebay to look for a Sprint compatible Blackberry.  It's a simple ESN swap, I did those all the time at work.   I hate what ebay has turned into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                 &lt;center&gt;        &lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/PISS_on_eBay.jpg" alt="" width="228" height="164" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It used to be you went there, placed your bid and waited until the time expired.  If someone outbid you then you went back to your computer and placed another bid.   Now they have this automatic bid bullshit.  Someone puts in what they want to pay for the thing (whatever it is) and they walk away.  Anybody else trying to bid on it is instantly outbid, this can go on for an hour.   I lost 3 Blackberrys today to people who werent even at their computer screens.   That just doesnt seem fair.  If I can sit here and manually enter my numbers,  they should too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.  The day isnt over yet so I cant put my calories in/out yet.  I'll be back later :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2689233962030418528?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2689233962030418528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2689233962030418528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2689233962030418528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2689233962030418528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/ebay.html' title='ebay'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_PISS_on_eBay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6009976517591567343</id><published>2009-05-23T01:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:06:28.308-04:00</updated><title type='text'>no beer</title><content type='html'>no beer no beer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm practicing my mantra for tonight.  I'm going out to shoot pool with some friends.  I will not have a beer.  I will not have a beer.  Well,  ok, maybe ONE Coors light :)   WHAT??!  It's better than my usual Corona lol   Wonder if wine has less calories.  OR....  I could have a vodka with cranberry juice.  It's juice!  How bad can it be?  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didnt wear my epulse today.  I hurt so bad from yesterday that I honestly didnt think I'd do anything all day but I did.   Now I regret the decision not to wear it.  I'd love to know how many calories are burned through major house cleaning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@Hotsplashes..  I really need a copy of that book girl  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you're right about Olive Garden Guy.  Too many voices whispering in my head about this one.  Too many wives,  too many kids, too much time spent at the bar (she says as she gets dressed to go to a bar herself :p)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My calorie intake was low today.  Barely broke 1000.  Just in case I cave in and go for that Corona.  I'll post when I get back if I had the willpower or not :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;2:50am...  I didnt have any beer!!   But I had 4 vodka cranberrys :(   I dont feel so good  lol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6009976517591567343?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6009976517591567343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6009976517591567343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6009976517591567343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6009976517591567343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/no-beer.html' title='no beer'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8593450021382758878</id><published>2009-05-22T01:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:05:24.421-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2063</title><content type='html'>I wore my epulse today from the minute I stepped out of the shower until about 5 minutes ago (9pm). According to the readout I burned 2063 calories today. I exercised a little bit today. All totalled I did just shy of 20 minutes on the elpitical (in 5-7 minute batches), I went grocery shopping for a picnic my mom wants to have on Monday and when I got home I took a walk. I made it almost around the block!! I'm so proud! I dont even hurt that much from it :D I really think that losing the few pounds that I have is making a difference in my pain levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I stepped on the scale this morning. It read 229. Monday I was 227. Maybe it's water? I mean, yeah I went over my calories last Friday but I dont think one day wouldnt make me gain 2 pounds would it? My period should be here next week, I'm going to blame it on that :) I'm also blaming it for the incredible, unbeatable urge for McDonalds tonight. I tried and tried but in the end I caved. I cant explain it, it's like I NEEDED it as much as I needed air. Nobody asked for MickyD's. I dont remember seeing a commercial for it today. The thought came into my head (as it does many days) but today I couldnt get it out of my head. I lost the battle and as a result I went way over my calorie limit today. My breakfast was great! My lunch was great! (check my food log.... I'm not lieing) The McDonalds killed me and I knew that it would. I'm just hoping the exercise offset it a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to go out with &lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/2009/05/15/oops/"&gt;Olive Garden guy &lt;/a&gt;again tonight. I cancelled. I have all these little voices whispering in my ear about him. I'm not sure if the voices are really red flags or if they're trying to scare me away because he isnt 14 years (the ex). Mr Olive Garden has been married 3 times. He says that about 2 years after his 3rd wife died he got engaged again so that's &lt;em&gt;almost&lt;/em&gt; 4 wives. I think that bothers me but I'm not sure why. In his defense, I like how he considers all of his wives HIS KIDS. He always says that he has 8 kids - 2 biologicals, 2 adopted, 4 by marriage. But then he stops by the bar alot. At first he told me he goes once a week with the guys. But more and more when I talk to him at night he is either AT the bar or just LEFT the bar. That might bother me more than the 4 wives thing... I'm not sure yet. &lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/zombie.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 500px; HEIGHT: 304px" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-109" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/zombie-300x202.jpg" width="390" height="287" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories today: 1839 :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories burned: 2063&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total carbs: 165&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total fat: 101 :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total protein: 78&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-8593450021382758878?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8593450021382758878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8593450021382758878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8593450021382758878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8593450021382758878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/2063.html' title='2063'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3880634095311158947</id><published>2009-05-21T01:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:03:39.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'>new toys!</title><content type='html'>I got my &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Impact-Sports-Strapless-Monitor-Calorimeter/dp/B0019ZDIOK"&gt;e-pulse &lt;/a&gt; yesterday.  I wore it for the rest of the day with the batterys that it came with.  I read some reviews that said battery life sucked.  I found that to be untrue.  Someone posted that they only got 4-5 hours of battery life with the unit on continuous.  I had it on all day before I remembered that post and changed it to on demand.  It looked like it'd be bulky and in the way but it's not.  After the first hour I almost forgot it was on.  At the end of the day it showed that I'd burned 1032 calories.   You input your gender, age, height &amp;amp; weight then its supposed to monitor the best heart rate for burning fat but I havent figured all of that out yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line, it does what I want it to do so I'm happy.   Very happy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories today:  1225&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories burned: 1032&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total carbs:  149&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  39&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total protein:  79&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3880634095311158947?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3880634095311158947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3880634095311158947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3880634095311158947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3880634095311158947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-toys.html' title='new toys!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-396738233429053491</id><published>2009-05-18T01:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:01:58.717-04:00</updated><title type='text'>damnit</title><content type='html'>Weighed myself today.  227,  up one pound.   For the last 3 weeks I've been down 2 pounds each week.  That means I actually &lt;strong&gt;gained&lt;/strong&gt; 3 pounds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories today:  1172&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total carbs:  155&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  35&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total protein:  63&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-396738233429053491?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/396738233429053491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=396738233429053491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/396738233429053491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/396738233429053491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/damnit.html' title='damnit'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3988768255489828535</id><published>2009-05-16T00:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T00:59:41.457-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate computers</title><content type='html'>I never wanted a career in IT, never imagined I'd end up a computer geek.   I fell into this by accident and now it seems I'm stuck here.  But that's not even what's bothering me today.   I've pretty much come to terms with the fact that a career change isnt in the cards for me.  No.  My problem is with the people who never call unless they have computer problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a friend who moved to Tennessee.   Our emails have fallen from "hi how are you doing?" to forwarding stupid jokes.   Unless she has a virus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a another friend, we went to high school together.   Only time I hear from her is when her husband has a problem with the HTML on his webpage or her internet is slow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a guy that I worked with.   We worked together every day for 4 years before he was let go.  Months went by, 8 of them to be exact...  one day he calls me.  Not to say hello,  not to see how my surgery went (he'd left a week before my planned operation), not to say he'd finally gotten permission from child services to adopt his foster baby.  Nope, he called because the screen on his laptop was broken. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends ex-husband called 2 weeks ago.  I hadnt spoken to him since before they divorced and were still living downstairs.   He was buying a laptop and needed help configuring it.  He also wanted to know if I had any antivirus software that I wasnt using. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this leads to today.  Today a girl from work called.  I havent talked to her in 6 months.  Some job she is applying for is giving her a test to see her skill level with the MS Word and her printer is coughing up errors.  "But it was fine the other day when I used it!".   "ok, did you restart the computer?".  "was I supposed to?".   "80% of windows errors can be resolved by restarting".  "oh, ok...  how do I do that?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation went like that for 40 minutes.  I finally suggested she either connect a different printer or call geek squad.  As I hung up my son looked at me and said "sometimes I think the only reason you have any friends at all is so you can fix their shit when it breaks"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid he might be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;a href="http://s274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/?action=view&amp;amp;current=techsupport.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/techsupport.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner tonight was one of the recipes of the day I get emailed from sparkpeople.   I left out the hotsauce but it was still really good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cajun Chicken Caesar Salad&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Serves: 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A spicy Cajun twist to the familiar Caesar Salad. Simple to make and low on fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;INGREDIENTS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/2 large boneless, skinless chicken breast&lt;br /&gt;Cajun spice (to taste)&lt;br /&gt;Hot sauce (to taste)&lt;br /&gt;2 cups romaine lettuce&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons reduced fat Caesar salad dressing&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DIRECTIONS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sprinkle spice and hot sauce on chicken breast, catering to your own taste, and grill chicken on skillet or grill (chicken is done when light pink has disappeared from center).&lt;br /&gt;2. Toss lettuce, dressing, and chicken to evenly distribute throughout salad.&lt;br /&gt;3. Add Parmesan cheese to taste, and serve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NUTRITION INFO&lt;/strong&gt; (per serving)&lt;br /&gt;Calories: 196.1&lt;br /&gt;Fat: 3.3 g&lt;br /&gt;Carbohydrates: 7.4 g&lt;br /&gt;Protein: 31.7 g&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000;"&gt;total calories today:  599&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000;"&gt;total carbs:  62&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000;"&gt;total fat:  13&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000;"&gt;total protein:  54&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000;"&gt;(ok that's bad but I ate all that I wanted)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3988768255489828535?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3988768255489828535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3988768255489828535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3988768255489828535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3988768255489828535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-hate-computers.html' title='I hate computers'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_techsupport.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5038215177867210041</id><published>2009-05-15T00:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T00:58:23.102-04:00</updated><title type='text'>oops</title><content type='html'>I went over my calorie allowance today by 179. It's the first time I've done that, I usually come close or somewhere in the middle of the 1200 and 1550 that Sparkpeople says that I should have. One day over wont kill me. I've been averaging a 2 pound loss per week and they say that's a healthy loss so thats good. Besides, this is a journey not a race right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out to lunch at Olive Garden with someone that I met online. I researched the menu and ordered the second lowest calorie plate they had (the apricot chicken wasnt doing it for me... it had asparagus. YUCK!) I think the chicken was 340 calories which wasnt bad at all. I had salad with vinegar, no oil. Then I went to a tricky tray with my sister-in-law and my mom. Dinner was included. I had roasted chicken, yellow rice and string beans. I snacked on a few pretzel sticks later on. What killed the diet day for me was 2 lunches and the salad dressing at dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didnt know he was going to ask me to lunch. He'd said he had a meeting nearby and that he'd call me when it was over. I had half of an italian sub with my son for lunch. I didnt have breakfast so I had the extra calories for the sub. But when he called to say he was starving I couldnt say no. I've been talking to him on the phone for a couple of weeks and really wanted to see him. The chicken at dinner was really dry and I thought I was doing the right thing using italian dressing instead of gravy. I got home and found those 2 packets of dressing were over 400 calories! I'd probably been better off with the gravy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories today: 1729&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total carbs: 160&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total fat: 76&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total protein: 47&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5038215177867210041?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5038215177867210041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5038215177867210041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5038215177867210041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5038215177867210041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/oops.html' title='oops'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5266868356349796313</id><published>2009-05-13T00:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T00:57:13.317-04:00</updated><title type='text'>dieting sucks</title><content type='html'>I ate baaaaddd today.  I didnt go over my calories but everything that I ate was junk.  Not good I know.  I just get so tired of eating the same damn foods over and over and over again.  I dont get why it has to be so hard to diet with a family!   My kids are such picky eaters and I cant afford to buy food for them and me.  They wont eat whole wheat pasta or brown rice.  There's only so much chicken they'll tolerate.  They want ribs and pork chops and hotdogs.  Then!!  The things that I am able to buy for me THEY EAT!  I bought some of those ricecake chippy things, they ate them.  I bought cucumbers, they ate them.  I bought ice cream last week, 1 gallon for them, 1 box of 100 calorie fudge bars for me.  There's 3 of them, that ice cream was gone in a couple of hours.  You know what they did?  Yep....  they hit my fudge bars.   I cant tell my kids they cant have the food.  They're hungry.   So that leaves me with the same food over and over again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch (3 or 4 days a week)...  half a can of albacore tuna,  8 ritz crackers,  a colby jack cheese stick and an apple.  The only variation I get is whether I put mayo in the tuna or balsamic vinegrette.  ANYWAY...  tomorrow it's back to tuna &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reading about this bodybug thing and how useful it is.  Not only is it almost 200.00 to buy but you also have to pay a monthly fee to be able to parse the data online.  Too rich for my blood.  My son gave me his credit card and told me to buy it (for a Mothers Day gift) but I'm not letting him spend that kind of money on it.  Instead I bought &lt;a href="https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_?url=search-alias%3Daps&amp;amp;field-keywords=ePulse+Strapless+Heart+Rate+Monitor+&amp;amp;x=11&amp;amp;y=19"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/epulse-300x300.jpg" alt="" width="269" height="215"/&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the same concept.  You wear the thing on your arm, it calculates your heart rate &amp;amp; calories burned but it's 100.00 less with free shipping and no subscription fees.   I'll let you know how it works out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah....  did I mention I'm now &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff0000"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline"&gt;226&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;?  :D  I read about other people are losing 5 pounds a week or more and I wonder what I'm doing wrong.   Then I remind myself that exercise is still an impossibility right now.  But it wont be for long.   I've lost 17 pounds so far and I have to be honest, I dont hurt as much as I did before.   Dont get me wrong,  some days I just lay in bed and cry and I still cant overdo stuff but it's taking a little longer to get to the point where I'm feeling overdone.   It can only get better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories today:  1362&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total carbs:  179&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  54&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total protein:  44&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5266868356349796313?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5266868356349796313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5266868356349796313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5266868356349796313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5266868356349796313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/dieting-sucks.html' title='dieting sucks'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6872299863894752700</id><published>2009-05-12T00:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T00:52:06.962-04:00</updated><title type='text'>so tired</title><content type='html'>I had to take my mother back to the hospital last night.  She couldnt catch her breath, her chest and ribs hurt.  We were there for over 7 hours.  I was sure they were going to keep her.  But they didnt.  They took 2 sets of xrays of her chest.  The first one they said was inconclusive so they took her down again.  They gave her morpheine.  OMG was that funny.   Not funny because she was hurt but funny because apparently she'd never been high before.  She kept saying stuff like "my face feels funny"  I told her to lay back and enjoy the buzz.   It took her pain away which is the only reason that I could smile about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didnt get home from the hospital until after 2am and I had to get up at 6 to get the kids ready for school.  I havent heard from facebook guy again.  I didnt think I would since he was so drunk that night but I have to admit that I kinda hoped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else new.   Pot Roast for dinner tonight.    Oh, and I think I'm going to get another tattoo :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories today:  1398&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total carbs:  146&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  62&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total protein:  75&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6872299863894752700?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6872299863894752700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6872299863894752700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6872299863894752700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6872299863894752700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-tired.html' title='so tired'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-403934943592024684</id><published>2009-05-10T00:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T00:50:36.342-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mothers Day</title><content type='html'>What a great day! My mom and the kids took me to breakfast. I'm still not sure how to calculate calories on restaurant food. I had a pepperoni &amp;amp; cheese omlet and some rye toast but I only ate half of the omlet. The on the way home we stopped at one of the local Drug Fair stores. They're going out of business (bought by Walgreens) and closing a bunch of locations, yesterday was the last day that store would be open... everything was 80% off!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went back to my house and the kids gave my mother the rose bushes we bought for her. One day last week she and I had gone to Costco. They had beautiful rose bushes for 12.99 and she really wanted one. I dont remember why but she didnt get any that day. They really were beautiful, each bush had at least 5 flowers on it. On Friday my son and I went over there and bought her 3 of them. When she first got here in the morning son #1 gave her a bush. Then before we left son #2 gave her a bush. When we got back from Drug Fair son #3 gave her one. She was happy with one bush. She was thrilled to have 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I knew I'd overdone it with the omlet (plus the beer last night) so I had an apple for lunch. I didnt have to cook dinner either. They ordered chinese food for me :) Chicken and string beans with baby shrimp. It was SO good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner I sat down to update my Facebook page. I started talking to a guy that I barely knew back then. He was on the football team, voted most handsome... you get the picture - we ran in different circles. He and I ended up going out for a drink. OMG 14 years went insane! I dont get him. We havent been together for 6 months. When I mentioned that I was going out on Saturday he wanted to know where I was going, with who and what time I planned on being home. I reminded him that he doesnt have the right to ask those questions anymore. He does that all the time and I'm always asking him what these new rules are. I'm trying to maintain a friendly, working relationship with him for the kids but he makes it so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my day was great! I hope everybody had a wonderful day too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.coolfreeimages.net/mothers_day.html"&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="Free Orkut and My Space Mothers Day Graphics Glitters " src="http://www.coolfreeimages.net/images/mothers_day/mothers_day_03.jpg" width="447" height="417" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-403934943592024684?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/403934943592024684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=403934943592024684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/403934943592024684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/403934943592024684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mothers Day'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4543585215754726396</id><published>2009-05-09T23:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T00:00:11.417-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Devil You Know</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago I made a facebook page.   Within 3 days I had 43 friends on my page, all people that I knew in high school and hadnt seen since 1982.  Tonight I went out with some of them and had a blast!  The band was &lt;a href="http://www.devilyouknow.tv/"&gt;The Devil You Know&lt;/a&gt; and they rocked!   My diet took a hit when I had 4 beers and some waffle fries but I dont think I hurt it too badly.   I was hesitant to go but I'm glad I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4543585215754726396?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4543585215754726396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4543585215754726396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4543585215754726396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4543585215754726396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/devil-you-know.html' title='The Devil You Know'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4854883239950875332</id><published>2009-05-08T23:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T00:48:17.836-04:00</updated><title type='text'>dreams</title><content type='html'>My dreams are almost always the same, those that I remember anyway.   I always dream that I'm running somewhere,  always barefoot...  usually on grass.  I dont know what it means, I've never really thought about it  but I'm sure the running is because when I'm awake walking is so difficult.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                           &lt;center&gt;       &lt;img src="http://images.inmagine.com/img/tongro/tggp038/tggp038009.jpg" alt="" width="250" height="324" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was different.  I had a completely different dream and it's haunting me.  I've been awake for hours yet I cant stop thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this dream I'm drinking a bottle of water.  A man walks up and tells me to throw that water away and hands me a HUGE bottle of diet coke.  He says "you dont need that healthy stuff anymore, you're perfect"  We're leaning against a car parked in a field (his car?)  In my dream I slip my arms underneath his coat and wrap my arms around him.  He kissed my forehead and the alarm went off.   Today was the first day I think I ever really hated that clock.  I know what this dream means.  It's what I want more than anything.  I want someone to love me for me, as I am right now... unconditionally and forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have spent the past 14 years completely focused on my kids.  I spent those years with a man I honestly cant stand and I did it because it was easy.  He wasnt what I wanted,  he wasnt about to change his life enough to give me what I wanted.  And I knew that but I stayed because it was easy.  It was also because the kids loved him so much.  We had a son of our own.  I couldnt take another father from them.   So I settled and put what I needed in a box under the bed.  Now I'm fat, ugly and alone, probably for the rest of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4854883239950875332?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4854883239950875332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4854883239950875332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4854883239950875332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4854883239950875332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/dreams.html' title='dreams'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2004785456264185729</id><published>2009-05-07T23:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:57:31.407-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Little car loses</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/swine.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm in the shower today and the phone starts ringing. I'm yelling for my son to answer it but of course, he's sleeping and doesnt hear me. I jump out of the shower and grab the phone. I'm standing there dripping in the kitchen while my mother is crying on the other end of the phone. She's been in an accident. "How bad?" "Very bad". I threw on the first thing I could find and jumped in my car. This is what I see when I get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/other-car.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/nans-car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-92" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/nans-car-225x300.jpg" width="174" height="285" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/nans-car-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-95" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/nans-car-2-225x300.jpg" width="194" height="295" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;moms car&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/other-car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-93" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/other-car-300x191.jpg" width="229" height="183" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/other-car-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-thumbnail wp-image-96" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/other-car-4-150x150.jpg" width="150" height="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/other-car-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the other car&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was driving down the street and that little silver car ran the stop sign. She is DAMN lucky. That other car is totalled. She bruised her arm pretty badly and I took her to the hospital for xrays. They wanted to take her in the ambulance but she is afraid of them and insisted that she be allowed to go with me. We got to the hospital at 10:30am. We didnt get out of there until 3:15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate hospitals especially now with this pig flu business. You walk in the door and are immediately stopped by security guards asking if youre there for flu-like symptoms. If you are you're handed a mask, if you're not they just turn and walk away without another word. Half of the people there had these masks, the other half didnt. Little kids with masks thought they were toys. Who's taking it off to play with it. Who's taking it off to drink soda or eat candy from the machine. None of this made me feel very safe so when I asked if WE could have masks they said they were for sick people only. WTF lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/swine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-94" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/swine.jpg" width="470" height="646" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories today: 1552&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total carbs: 144&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total fat: 28&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total protein: 57&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/nans-car.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2004785456264185729?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2004785456264185729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2004785456264185729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2004785456264185729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2004785456264185729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-car-loses.html' title='Little car loses'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7350438955628925923</id><published>2009-05-06T23:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:55:55.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'>other peoples strange behavior</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning I called a recruiter about a job posting.  That in itself was odd and it should've maybe thrown up a red flag?  I have never seen a posting where they were requesting phone calls.   Who has the time to answer 300 phone calls?  But anyway,  the ad says call so I call.  I'm talking to the guy about the job, he thinks I'm the perfect candidate and wants to send my resume right over.   I didnt hear from him again that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning he calls to see if I'm available for an interview either today, tomorrow or Friday.  I tell him that either tomorrow or Friday are fine.  He says he will set it up for tomorrow and call me back with the details. I dont hear from him again.  At 4:30 I sent him an email asking if the details had been worked out.  He answers me saying that nobody had gotten back to him and he would make some calls to find out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 8:00pm and I STILL havent heard from this guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total calories today:  1545&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total carbs:  154&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total fat:  65&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #008000"&gt;total protein:  63&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7350438955628925923?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7350438955628925923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7350438955628925923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7350438955628925923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7350438955628925923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/other-peoples-strange-behavior.html' title='other peoples strange behavior'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5461261728665067966</id><published>2009-05-05T23:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:55:07.511-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Remember the interview that I went on last week? The one that I was sure I'd blown because of my "what's the point" attittude? They called today, they hired someone else. I'm not surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I filed for my last unemployment check today. I do it over the internet, it's easier. Have you noticed how much easier the internet has made our lives? What did we ever do before? Lick a stamp and wait thats what. Aint technology wonderful. Anyway, the last words on the confirmation page said "BENEFITS EXHAUSTED. Our records indicate that you may be eligible for an extended benefit claim. A claim will be filed for you. You will be notified by mail of your eligibility and if you are eligible, the date on which you should next claim benefits"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple of words in there that I cant get the image of off of my eyes. You &lt;strong&gt;MAY&lt;/strong&gt; be... &lt;strong&gt;IF&lt;/strong&gt; you are eligible. What if I'm not? I mean, there have to be people who arent eligible or there'd be no reason to put that statement on there right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I submitted a claim to withdraw the balance of my 401k just in case. It's lost 50% of it's value anyway thanks to this economy. In January 2008 I had 16k in there. Today when I submitted the request I had just under 8. I think I'd rather have the money in a savings account collecting at least a little bit of interest than to see it pissed away by John Hancock and their bad investments. If it turns out that I dont need it I'll stick it in an IRA or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My accountant is going to kill me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so food today. I had my normal 3 cups of coffee in the morning with a low carb everything bagel &amp;amp; low fat cream cheese. I had a large Dunkin Donuts coffee for lunch and 7 Tostitos with salsa for my snack. I purposely didnt eat lunch because I planned on making chicken soup for dinner and what's chicken soup without crusty Italian bread. I saved my calories so I could have some bread :) I dont know how many calories that was but I'm sure I'm under my 1550 max. How do you calculate calories in homemade chicken soup? Chicken, water, vegetables and NoYolks noodles. That cant be that many right? I'm using one of the soups on SparkPeople. 240 calories... I hope it's not that far off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/chicken_soup.jpg" width="266" height="198" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll have an apple during Dancing with the Stars - The Results. I'm thinking the cowboy is going to get the boot tonight. That's a shame. I like his smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total calories today: 1326 (I think)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total carbs: 208&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total fat: 33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;address&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#008000;"&gt;total protein: 49&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/address&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5461261728665067966?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5461261728665067966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5461261728665067966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5461261728665067966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5461261728665067966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/remember-interview-that-i-went-on-last.html' title=''/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-458571641139880577</id><published>2009-05-04T23:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:54:11.449-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hellloooo 228!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I started my journey at 241.   I made it down to 228 then fell down and couldnt get back up.  My weight went back up to 237.   I think it was because I just stopped caring.  Last night I went to bed knowing that today is the day I’m supposed to step on the warscale, telling myself that no matter what I wasnt going to put myself through it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, I did it.  I dont know why but I did it.  I stepped on that scale and almost fell off when I saw the numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;228.4!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-458571641139880577?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/458571641139880577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=458571641139880577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/458571641139880577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/458571641139880577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/hellloooo-228.html' title='Hellloooo 228!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3040261573070950326</id><published>2009-05-03T23:51:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:52:53.159-04:00</updated><title type='text'>carry on</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/graces.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have decided........ nothing. Well, that's not totally true. HA! I can't even make a decision as to whether I've made a decision or not! Somewhere in there is a funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday I took the kids to the &lt;a href="http://www.njhistoryfair.org/"&gt;NJ History Fair&lt;/a&gt;. NJ is one of those states rich in history and once a year there are live exhibits displaying that history at Washington Crossing State Park near Trenton. Son #3 couldn't wait to get there. Son #2 went only to push my wheelchair. That's right, I gave in to my bodys requirements and took the wheelchair. Washington Crossing State Park is huge, I knew there'd be no way that I'd be able to walk the entire park. I walked when I could and sat when I needed. Unfortunately, I needed to sit more than I was able to walk. By the end of the day I couldnt walk at all. That's right. I overdid it as usual. But I dont care. I was worth it. We had a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part of the day was the live re-enactment of the &lt;a href="http://www.theamericanrevolution.org/battles/bat_monm.asp"&gt;Battle of Monmouth&lt;/a&gt;. Son #3's favorite parts were the cannons. The fair featured 2 exhibits with cannons. One was a Civil War cannon, the other was a Revolutionary War cannon... both were fired regularly by men in full period uniforms. His other favorite parts were the WWII weaponry displays and the blacksmith. As I as uploading the pictures from his camera to our familys photobucket page I started to worry. All of his favorite parts involved weapons of some sort. I told myself that he's 12 and it's normal. I hope I'm not wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got to push a horse plow and took a ride on a wagon. They played games that the kids played in the 1800's. He liked this game called &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Game_of_graces"&gt;Graces&lt;/a&gt; so much that I bought him one to take home. He got home, opened the package and went outside with his friend who'd also come with us. 15 minutes later they'd lost one of the hoops and broke the other one trying to get the first one out of the tree :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/graces.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-86" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/graces1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also an archaeological display there. They sectioned off parts of an empty field and buried musketballs and other small metal fragments. Then they give the kids geiger counters and lead them through the "battlefield". The kids are given the opportunity to "dig up" these treasures, wash them off and identity their finds. They even gave the kids Junior Archaeologist certificates with their name on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son #2 had his favorite parts too. He loved the canal ride, he loved watching how the first photographs were taken and developed on glass, he enjoyed the battle re-enactment too. But I think his most favorite part of the day came when he was pushing me back up a hill from the canal ride. One of the participants of the fair walked past us dressed as a 1900's farm worker, he looked like an extra from Little House on the Prairie. I had been teasing him "come on, say it with me... I think I can, I think I can". The guy laughed and asked if he wanted help. #2 looked up at him and said "sure, it's your turn". The guy jumped behind him and pushed us all up the hill, the 2 of them running a woman in a wheelchair up a hill. I havent heard him laugh like that in years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My diet? I had no breakfast then half a turkey sandwich for lunch. As we passed the food section (complete with stand for authentic period cuisine) the kids wanted shish kabobs. OMG they smelled good. I bought each of them and I'm sorry to say that i gave into temptation and ordered myself a pork kabob. I was proud of myself for passing up the burgers, hot dogs and hand churned ice cream until we got to the funnel cakes. Temptation once again got the better of me :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we left in the morning, I'd taken chicken out of the freezer for dinner. But it was almost 7:00, we'd been driving for 2 hours and I had just found the parkway, we were still over an hour from home (yes, I got lost). I stopped at a rest stop where they had a Burger King. They each got sandwiches and shared an order of fries. Me? I got a container of sliced apples and cheddar cheese chunks. I even threw away the little container of caramel sauce for the apples. I dont know how many calories that was but my hope is that it was low enough to offset the funnel cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/funnel_cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-87" alt="" src="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/files/2009/05/funnel_cake-300x230.jpg" width="209" height="128" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the drive down it was raining, I kept driving and hoping. It rained for his treasure hunt but then the sun came out and the rest of the day was gorgeous. It took us an hour and 10 minutes to get there and almost 3 hours to get home. Of course, once I got home they practically had to carry me up the stairs. From there it was straight to bed for the rest of the night and today even my hair hurts. But it was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a great day. We learned a lot and we laughed a lot. I got out of the house, spent all day outside and I even forgot all the other bullshit that fills my life every other day. I wasnt the woman who cant support her family, the one who cant find a job, pay the bills or walk down the stairs. I was MOM and I'd almost forgotten how that felt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3040261573070950326?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3040261573070950326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3040261573070950326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3040261573070950326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3040261573070950326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/05/carry-on.html' title='carry on'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-756065711993158519</id><published>2009-04-29T23:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:48:24.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'>tired</title><content type='html'>I'm afraid I've given up.  EVERYTHING feels like work.   Getting out of bed in the mornings is a job.  I havent checked monster.com or dice all week.  I sit in the chair, turn on the computer and a huge wave of "whats the point" washes over me.   I had an interview yesterday.  I wont get the job.  I think my attittude sucked.  I drove up there feeling like I was wasting my time and it probably affected my behavior during the interview.  I came home and went back to bed.  I didnt even cook for the kids last night.  dieting seems pointless.   I have no appetite at all.  I'm living on apples. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 years finally showed up yesterday with money.   He's supposed to be giving me 600.00 a month for child support.   I dont think he's given me 600.00 all year.  Crys about HIS problems.  Yesterday it was all I could do to not punch him in the head.   What's really funny (ok NOT funny) is when I had a job, he paid regularly.   I lost my job in October and he started screwing me with money in November.   But it's always about HIM and HIS problems.  I dont even think I care anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.  I didnt come here to whine.  I'm sorry.  I came here to try to remember where I left my sanity.   I had it when I started this blog.  I was so hopeful and full of confidence.  I just want to find it again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-756065711993158519?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/756065711993158519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=756065711993158519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/756065711993158519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/756065711993158519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/tired.html' title='tired'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5892280807093773994</id><published>2009-04-19T23:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:47:27.811-04:00</updated><title type='text'>finally feeling better</title><content type='html'>I thought I was gonna die!  I bought some over the counter stuff on Thursday and by Friday afternoon my blood pressure was so high I thought my head was going to explode.  I slept all day Friday and Saturday and most of today.   The few minutes that I was awake I laid in bed and prayed not to die.  I was really afraid.  My bp is back to normal (MY normal) and I can breath.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is my day to step on the &lt;a href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/2009/01/06/22/"&gt;warscale&lt;/a&gt;.  I dont expect to see much change.  I had to cancel my WW online subscription for now.  I'll reactivate it once I find a job.  For now I'll just count calories and hope.  Who knows,  maybe I'll have some luck.  The WW thing really wasnt working for me anyway.  I've decided to blame WW for my weight loss failure...  nope, wasnt MY fault :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kinda bummed that I was sick all week.   The cherry blossoms were out  :(   I found this picture online.  It's the park near here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/DSC00959_x_20.jpg" alt="" width="421" height="324" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://cherryblossomvillage.blogspot.com/"&gt;town blog&lt;/a&gt; has lots of pictures.   I wish I could've seen them.  Oh well, there's always next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5892280807093773994?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5892280807093773994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5892280807093773994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5892280807093773994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5892280807093773994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/finally-feeling-better.html' title='finally feeling better'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_DSC00959_x_20.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6194574560019496912</id><published>2009-04-15T23:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:46:19.495-04:00</updated><title type='text'>its only Wednesday?</title><content type='html'>Today feels like the week should be over.   I woke up this morning and couldnt move.  Of course son #3 wouldnt get up again.   I love that little boy SO much but in the mornings?  notsomuch :(   No matter what time that boy goes to bed he is a monster when you have to wake him up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm supposed to have a job interview today.   I dont think I can make it.  First of all, I'm still sick.  Its cold and raining.   I can never move on days like today.  Couple that with my torture session yesterday - my knees feel like they're going to snap when I walk.  This interview is for &lt;a href="http://www.goodwillny.org/"&gt;Goodwill Industries&lt;/a&gt;.  They do so many good things for people in need.  I would love to be a part of an organization like that.  The only problem is that their corporate office is in Queens NY.   Only a crazy person would make that drive everyday and buses/trains arent an option for me.   I cant walk to the corner deli, how do I think I can make it to the bus stop 5 blocks away?  OK (I tell myself) I can drive my car down the street and take the bus.  But then I have to get off the bus at Grand Central then walk to the subway then walk from the subway stop to the building.  God only knows how many subways I'd have to take.  I would give anything to be normal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO now I need an excuse to postpone this interview.   Notice I said postpone and not cancel.  Somedays I refuse to believe that I have limitations.  I wonder what a shrink would say about that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the lighter side!!   I just got this in email.   According to the subject line it's Barbies 50th birthday and look how well she has aged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/barbie.jpg" alt="" width="451" height="366" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6194574560019496912?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6194574560019496912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6194574560019496912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6194574560019496912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6194574560019496912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-only-wednesday.html' title='its only Wednesday?'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_barbie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-504320645420540791</id><published>2009-04-14T23:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:45:13.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;9am...&lt;/em&gt;   My head hurts,  my nose is stuffy, my entire body aches and I have to start physical therapy today :( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I call out sick?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;7:00 pm...&lt;/em&gt; I really really really hope PT counts as exercise coz I'm done.   They tortured me for almost 2 hours!  Can you do this?  Do that!  Bend this way.  Now bend that way.  Hot packs.  Cold packs.  LIttle electrical thingys.  I hurt in places I forgot I even had and I'm supposed to do this 3 times a week!?!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had therapy after my first surgery and I dont remember it ever hurting this much.  They told me that since I never had PT after the second or third surgeries plus the accident I'm extra damaged.  All I know is it hurt like hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner tonight?  Are you kidding me?  COOK?!?!?   No way Jose...  I ordered pizza.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-504320645420540791?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/504320645420540791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=504320645420540791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/504320645420540791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/504320645420540791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/9am.html' title=''/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-341930277838556726</id><published>2009-04-13T23:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:44:17.677-04:00</updated><title type='text'>what to do!!</title><content type='html'>Hope everybody had a wonderful Easter :)   I did.  We went to Easter vigil on Saturday night.  That's my favorite service of the year, it's so beautiful.  We start in the dark, theres a small bonfire burning in the back of the church, everybody holds candles,  they always bring in a full band with kettle drums and trumpets.  This year we had a cellist.   Easter vigil is usually a 2 hour service.  This year it was almost 3.  My back kills me after a normal 1 hour mass.   I walked out of there like a cripple.  Easter morning I couldnt move.  I havent felt pain like that in months.  It took every ounce of what I had to cook. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was nice.  Ham, baked mac &amp;amp; cheese, mixed vegetables,  glazed carrots.  My mother and brother came to dinner.   My second son decided going to the movies with his friends was more important than sitting down to dinner with us but whatever.  I started to argue with him about it but quickly gave up.   If he didnt want to be here then I didnt want him here.  He'd have just had an attittude and ruined our meal.  I was proud of myself, I didnt eat too much.  But then, fighting with Jimmy kinda ruined my appetite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my first son's new girlfriend came over.  They've been seeing each other for a little while now but this was the first time I met her.  I swear if he doesnt marry her then I will!   The first thing you notice about her is she is GORGEOUS.  She is tall, has long, straight black hair, big brown eyes and a smile that lit up my living room.  She is well spoken and polite.  I asked her how her Easter was.  She frowned a little and said that she'd had to work.  She works at a radio station on weekends.  During the week shes a fulltime college student, she's studying to be a speech therapist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were sitting here making small talk I commented on her bag.  I asked where she got it.   I have a pocketbook fetish but have a problem finding bags that I like in the store.  I'll stop strangers on the street to find out where they got theirs just so I know where to shop the next time.  Her's was really nice.  She told me she got it in NY and I said something like "That is really nice. Next time I go shopping that's where I'm going"   Next thing I know she is offering me hers!  She said she never uses it and that I could have it.  I declined, told her that I wasnt going to take her bag.  "No really, I never use it".   "You're sweet but I cannot take your bag".  Then the subject changed to her new puppy and I didnt think of it again.  This morning I wake up and the bag is on my kitchen table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                    &lt;center&gt;      &lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/SSPX1233-1.jpg" alt="" width="271" height="199" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel horrible. This girl walked out of my house with her stuff in a plastic bag :(  I didnt comment on it because I wanted it!  I was complimenting her sense of style.  I asked my son why he let her do it.  He said "she's a grown woman, she does what she wants"  He said he tried to talk her out of it but she wouldnt hear it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do?   Do I insist she take it back?  I really feel bad!  I dont want this girl being afraid to come over here because she's afraid I'm going to want her stuff.  How can I ever compliment her again?  On the other hand I dont want to insult her or hurt her feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELP!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-341930277838556726?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/341930277838556726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=341930277838556726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/341930277838556726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/341930277838556726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-to-do.html' title='what to do!!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_SSPX1233-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3804077700395396132</id><published>2009-04-09T23:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:42:21.476-04:00</updated><title type='text'>creepy?</title><content type='html'>I think I was just asked out by my sons friend! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son and this kid were friends all through grade school up to middle school (I think it was around the 8th grade they stopped hanging out).  One day the friend was smoking a joint and my son walked away from him,  ended their friendship right there.  Fast forward 10 years....   I'm coming in the house and I see him walking down the street.  He calls my name,  we say hello.  He asks how my son is, what he's up to...  regular smalltalk, no biggie.   He asks for my son's phone number.  I dont have a pen so I tell him to come upstairs.  I'm walking up the stairs (he's following behind).  He says "wow, you're looking pretty good these days".   I think nothing of it.  "Thanks" Then he says... "when are we going to get together?"  "excuse me?"  he doesnt answer, he just smiles.  I must be dense or something because I gave him my sons phone number, he gives me his.  I tell him that I'll make sure Jay gets it.  He says "no, that's for you.  Call me sometime"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT?!?!!?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I need a shower :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3804077700395396132?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3804077700395396132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3804077700395396132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3804077700395396132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3804077700395396132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/creepy.html' title='creepy?'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5980983007376332550</id><published>2009-04-08T23:37:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:41:19.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'>great shoes &amp; brown fat… what a day!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, in the middle of my crying fit, I had an appointment with my orthopedist. I've mentioned my car accident havent I? If I have you can skip this paragraph. 5 days after I lost my job I had my final epidural. The pain management specialist that I was going to does these epidurals under general anestesia so also owns a car service. It's an insurance deduction for him, you're not supposed to drive immediately after general anestesia. On the day my last injection the car service was driving me home and the driver crashed into another car. I was in the back seat, with my seat belt on, minding my own business reading a book. All of my medical bills have to go through my insurance company. I think that's ridiculous since my car was parked in front of my house at the time (I didnt even have my car keys) but NJ is a no fault state so all my stuff has to go through my insurance, not the car service. Now here's where it gets tricky. According to Allstate I checked the box authorizing my primary health insurer to be my PIP carrier. I dont remember ever checking that box, I looked on my original policy and that box isnt checked. They say I checked it on the next renewal, I dont remember doing that. Since I was laid off 5 days earlier I didnt have insurance. My attorney says that since I had no primary insurance at the time, that Allstate has to pick up all of these bills since they're my secondary insurance. Allstate says otherwise. Anyway, I'm not getting into that mess right now, it makes my head hurt. Let HIM fight that battle, he's getting 33% of my settlement... let him earn his money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The insurance company says that my primary care doctor has done all he can so they arent paying for any more visits (like it matters.... they're declining all the charges anyway). They say I need to see an orthopedist or a physiatrist. When I saw that independent medical review and the word psysiatrist I went nuts. I called my lawyer screaming "they're saying I'm crazy! I'm not imagining this pain!". He, of course, laughed at me. Psychiatrist's deal with emotional disturbances, physiatrists specialize in physical therapy. Who knew! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday I walked into my orthopedists office, first words out of his mouth are "those shoes are too old, you need new ones". He tells me that sneakers break down after a few months and even though they look in good condition, the insoles break down and they're actually bad to wear. So now, on top of everything else I have to buy sneakers. I go to Sports Authority and see a nice pair of &lt;a href="http://www.sportsauthority.com/product/index.jsp?productId=3199380&amp;amp;cp=3077570.3079721.2867040&amp;amp;parentPage=family&amp;amp;regImage=http://TSA.imageg.net/graphics/product_images/p5027341reg.jpg&amp;amp;ehnImage=http://TSA.imageg.net/graphics/product_images/p5027341dt.jpg"&gt;Nike Air Vitalitys&lt;/a&gt;. They have my size, and they're on sale. Here comes the salesman "do you need any help?" "nope, I have what I need" "are you sure? we have a lot of shoes here". My son starts to tell him about my back problem and the surgeries and the metal bars and he (the salesman) tells me that I'm wasting my money buying air soles, they break down much sooner than regular sneakers. He shows me these white &lt;a href="http://www.zappos.com/product/7402615/color/14"&gt;New Balance&lt;/a&gt;, says they're much better than the Nike Air. Says they're 1st choice of nurses and other people who have to be on their feet 10-12 hours a day. I tried them on, they felt ok and were the same price as the ones I'd picked so I get them. I get them home and put them on. 10 minutes later my feet are crying. They're hard to walk in, they dont bend at the toes. Now I get that you have to break them in but I cant have extra pain anywhere in my body until they break in so I brought them back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the original Nike Airs in my hand when I see these &lt;a href="http://www.zappos.com/product/7373253/color/128369"&gt;Brooks&lt;/a&gt; (the picture is the color I actually got)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/brooks.jpg" width="160" height="87" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neighbor had just been talking about Brooks shoes. He's in the police academy and said the Brooks were the best sneakers he's ever worn. So I tried them on. OMG they're like wearing pillows on your feet!! The ones that I got are normally 95.00, on sale for 60. That's a little more than I intended to spend but I think it was worth it. Can you hear my credit card crying? I think they can hear it in Kansas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and if there's a Sports Authority in your area, they have this great deal. For an extra 5 bucks you can get insurance on your sneakers. If they rip, tear or seperate, or the color fades, or the lace holes break or that metal comes off, or ANYTHING ELSE goes wrong with your shoes for 1 year they will replace them. The guy told me in 6 months (when it's time for new shoes) to rip a seam, return the shoes and get new ones for free! Check into it... I think it's a great deal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it about shopping that instantly makes you feel better? I felt like shit all day. Still depressed over yesterdays rejection, still stressed over money. Yet you go into a store and you leave happy. What is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just read the most fascinating &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/09/health/research/09fat.html?ref=global-home"&gt;article on nytimes.com &lt;/a&gt;about weight loss! I'll paste the article below but sum it up here. We have fat cells, brown fat cells, that burn calories faster in the cold. We are born with these brown cells but lose them as our bodies mature and learns to warm iteslf. They put these mice in a cold room for a week and they lost 14% of their weight &lt;strong&gt;just by being cold!!&lt;/strong&gt; I want these fat cells :) I'd live in my refridgerator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr size="1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;April 9, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;div class="kicker"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h1&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Calorie-Burning Fat? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Studies Say You Have It&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="byline"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc9933;"&gt;By &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="More Articles by Gina Kolata" href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/k/gina_kolata/index.html?inline=nyt-per"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc9933;"&gt;GINA KOLATA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;For more than 30 years, scientists have been intrigued by brown fat, a cell that acts like a furnace, consuming &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="In-depth reference and news articles about Diet - calories." href="http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/nutrition/diet-calories/overview.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;calories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt; and generating heat. Rodents, unable to shiver to keep warm, use brown fat instead. So do human infants, who also are unable to shiver their muscles to stay warm. But it was generally believed that humans lose brown fat after infancy, no longer needing it once the shivering response kicks in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#004276;"&gt;&lt;div id="articleBody"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That belief, three groups of researchers report, is wrong. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Their papers, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://content.nejm.org/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;appearing Thursday in The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a title="More articles about New England Journal of Medicine" href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/organizations/n/new_england_journal_of_medicine/index.html?inline=nyt-org"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;New England Journal of Medicine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;, indicate that nearly every adult has little blobs of brown fat that can burn huge numbers of calories when activated by the cold, like sitting in a chilly room that is between 61 and 66 degrees.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thinner people appeared to have more brown fat than heavier people, younger people more than older people; people with higher metabolic rates had more than those whose metabolisms were more sluggish, and women had more than men. People taking beta blockers for &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="In-depth reference and news articles about Hypertension." href="http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/disease/hypertension/overview.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;high blood pressure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; or other medical indications had less brown fat. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“The thing about this brown fat is that it takes a very small amount to burn a lot of energy,” said Dr. C. Ronald Kahn, head of the section on &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="In-depth reference and news articles about Obesity." href="http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/symptoms/obesity/overview.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;obesity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt; and hormone action at the Joslin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="In-depth reference and news articles about Diabetes." href="http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/disease/diabetes/overview.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Diabetes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; Center in Boston. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The fat really is brown, researchers say, because it is filled with mitochondria, cells’ tiny energy factories. Mitochondria contain iron, giving the tissue a reddish brown color. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The hope is that scientists may find safe ways to turn peoples’ brown fat on, allowing them to lose weight by burning more calories. But researchers caution that while mice lose weight if they activate brown fat, it is not clear that people would shed pounds — they might unwittingly eat more, for example. The data on global patterns of obesity are not good enough to say whether living in a cold climate makes people thinner. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The best evidence for the effects of brown fat is from earlier studies in mice, said Leslie P. Kozak, a professor of molecular &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="In-depth reference and news articles about Genetics." href="http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/specialtopic/genetics/overview.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;genetics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; at the Pennington Biomedical Research Center of Louisiana State University. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Recently, Dr. Kozak put mice predisposed to obesity in a cold room, 41 degrees, for a week. The animals activated their brown fat. As a result, they lost 14 percent of their weight, which constituted 47 percent of their body fat, while eating a high-fat &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="In-depth reference and news articles about Diet and Nutrition." href="http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/specialtopic/food-guide-pyramid/overview.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;diet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; with two and a half times more calories than they had consumed at room temperature. “That’s just by going out in the cold, without any drug treatment,” Dr. Kozak said. But, he cautioned, mice, small animals with a comparatively huge surface area, are easily chilled. “Put the mouse in the cold,” he added, “and it becomes a heat producing machine.” &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jan Nedergaard of the University of Stockholm did the opposite of Dr. Kozak. He and Barbara Cannon, also at the University of Stockholm, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science?_ob=ArticleURL&amp;amp;_udi=B7MFH-4VHS4G5-B&amp;amp;_user=10&amp;amp;_coverDate=02%2F04%2F2009&amp;amp;_rdoc=1&amp;amp;_fmt=high&amp;amp;_orig=browse&amp;amp;_sort=d&amp;amp;view=c&amp;amp;_acct=C000050221&amp;amp;_version=1&amp;amp;_urlVersion=0&amp;amp;_userid=10&amp;amp;md5=a299774de41d85957a911ec9ce67fb61"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;studied mice that were genetically engineered so their brown fat could not burn calories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;. The animals became fat. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Until very recently, we would have said that it is doubtful that differences in brown fat really could contribute to obesity,” Dr. Nedergaard said. Now, he said he had changed his mind, at least for mice. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The key to finding brown fat in humans was PET scans, which pinpoint areas where cells are actively burning glucose. Because brown fat rapidly burns glucose to produce heat, it lights up in the scans. In two of the three studies, investigators also studied samples of brown fat that were removed from a few subjects, confirming that the cells had a protein, UCP-1, that is unique to brown fat. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Brown fat in adult humans was in an unexpected place. Infants have it mostly as a sheet of cells covering their backs. Rodents have it mostly between their shoulder blades, just down from the neck. But in adult humans, it showed up in the upper back, on the side of the neck, in the dip between the collarbone and shoulder, and along the spine. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That may be one reason it was missed for so long, Dr. Kahn said. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“There was an interest in looking at humans 20 or 25 years ago with different scanning techniques, but people were always looking between the shoulder blades,” he said. And since there is so little brown fat — just a few grams of tissue — it can be hard to find, Dr. Kahn added.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;His study, one of the three published Thursday, involved 1,972 people who had had PET scans for a variety of reasons. The scans showed brown fat in 7.5 percent of the women and 3 percent of the men — an underestimate, Dr. Kahn says, because the people had not deliberately activated brown fat by getting cold. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dr. Kahn and his colleagues also examined &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="In-depth reference and news articles about Biopsy." href="http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/test/biopsy/overview.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;biopsy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; samples taken from the necks of two patients. They concluded that what looked like brown fat in their scans was indeed brown fat.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A second study, led by Wouter D. van Marken Lichtenbelt of Maastricht University in the Netherlands, involved 24 healthy young men. Ten were lean, the rest overweight or obese. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The scans showed no brown fat when the men had been in a room that was a comfortable temperature. But after they were in a chilly room for two hours, scans showed brown fat in all but one, an obese man.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A third study, led by Dr. Sven Enerbäck of the University of Goteborg in Sweden, involved five healthy adults. Each had two PET scans — one after being in a room at a comfortable temperature, the other after being in a chilly room for two hours. The investigators saw brown fat in their chilled subjects. Three participants allowed the researchers to remove some white fat and some brown fat to demonstrate that what looked like brown fat in the scans really was that elusive substance.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The studies, investigators say, should stimulate research on safe ways to activate brown fat. It is known to be activated not only by cold but also by &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="In-depth reference and news articles about Catecholamines - blood." href="http://health.nytimes.com/health/guides/test/catecholamines-blood/overview.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;catecholamines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;, hormones that are part of the fight or flight response. That is why beta blockers, which block catecholamines, can suppress brown fat activation. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Epinephrine, or adrenaline, and ephedra, a &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Recent and archival health news about dietary supplements and herbal remedies." href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/health/diseasesconditionsandhealthtopics/dietarysupplementsandherbalremedies/index.html?inline=nyt-classifier"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;herbal supplement&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt; containing epinephrine, can stimulate brown fat, said Dr. Rudolph Leibel, co-director of the Naomi Berrie Diabetes Center at the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="More articles about Columbia University." href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/organizations/c/columbia_university/index.html?inline=nyt-org"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Columbia University Medical Center&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;. But, he added, the drugs have too many side effects to be used for weight loss. While caffeine can boost ephedra’s effects, Dr. Leibel said, it is easy to eat your way out of a brown fat effect. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Brown fat, he said, “fits the fantasy — I eat what I want and burn it off.” &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That, however, is still a fantasy, Dr. Leibel added.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If a drug that stimulates brown fat could be developed, said Dr. Claude Bouchard of the Pennington Biomedical Research Center, it would be the first obesity drug to affect energy expenditure rather than appetite. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then there is the notion of simply hanging out in a cold room.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“We’re thinking of opening a frosty spa,” Dr. Kozak joked.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5980983007376332550?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5980983007376332550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5980983007376332550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5980983007376332550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5980983007376332550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/great-shoes-brown-fat-what-day.html' title='great shoes &amp; brown fat… what a day!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_brooks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2942315300266300959</id><published>2009-04-07T23:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:36:45.088-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It came this morning in an email...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span class="844370715-07042009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Thanks for &lt;span class="775371315-07042009"&gt;taking time to meet with us this past week&lt;/span&gt;. We had an extremely strong group of candidates, of which your were one&lt;span class="935195615-07042009"&gt; of the best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="775371315-07042009"&gt;, an&lt;/span&gt;y of which would be a great addition to our business.&lt;span class="935195615-07042009"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span class="844370715-07042009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3366ff;"&gt;We did choose another person for the position, but we do appreciate you and your skills, and we are confident that you will find another position soon. If for some reason the other candidate is not able to fill our position, we will re-contact you to see if you are still interested.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span class="844370715-07042009"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Warmest regards,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are confident that I will find another position soon. I wish that I shared their confidence. I have 2 weeks of unemployment left. Then what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="844370715-07042009"&gt;I’m feeling very whiney today so I’m going to save you from another “i hate my life, I want to die” post by not posting at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;Cya's&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2942315300266300959?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2942315300266300959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2942315300266300959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2942315300266300959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2942315300266300959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-came-this-morning-in-email.html' title=''/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7116461471569167266</id><published>2009-04-06T23:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:34:27.419-04:00</updated><title type='text'>is no news REALLY good news?</title><content type='html'>I've been a little afraid to post my *new* news.  I was afraid I'd jinx it or something.  Last Wednesday I went on a second interview for a job that I really, really want (see post from 3/29).  They told me they were down to 3 candidates, me and 2 other people.  I was there for almost 2 hours and I felt that it went great.   They said they had one more interview that day and another the next day.  He told me he'd probably know by Thursday afternoon but that he and his wife were going to take the weekend to make a final decision (his wife is the HR department...  its a small, family owned business).   He said he'd call me either way on Monday to let me know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed all weekend for this job.  I had my family and friends praying too.  Well, as you know, today is Monday.  There was no phone call.  :(  I can only assume that means I didnt get the job, if I did I probably would've heard first thing this morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my 3rd second interview.  Since being laid off in October I have been on 5 interviews, 3 of them asked me back for a second interview and I still didnt get the job.  Not good enough not good enough not good enough.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's that cheesecake?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7116461471569167266?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7116461471569167266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7116461471569167266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7116461471569167266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7116461471569167266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/04/is-no-news-really-good-news.html' title='is no news REALLY good news?'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7920381850486975534</id><published>2009-03-29T23:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:33:26.777-04:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting on my world to change</title><content type='html'>Have you ever wanted to get out a pencil and paper and try to do the math on exactly how much of our lives is spent waiting?  Waiting for someone to come home, waiting in line at the grocery store, waiting for a phone call, my God we even have to wait on line to use the ladies room!  It feels like half my life has been spent waiting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week was no exception. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had another fabulous interview on Wednesday.  This is a job that is 100% computer free (other than personal usage).  It'd be the job of my dreams if I got it.  I left there feeling like I'd nailed it.  Their IT guy is retiring in April.  They asked if I'd mind picking up some of his responsibilities once he's gone.  Of course I wouldnt.  Now I'm just waiting on them to call.   I'm praying that they will but there's that nagging voice in the back of my head screaming at me "they're not calling...  you're not good enough".  I hate that voice.  The only way to shut it up is to feed it chocolate.  or cheesecake.  or chocolate cheesecake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                           &lt;center&gt;     &lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/1255_MEDIUM.jpg" alt="" width="247" height="194" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe they'll call tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7920381850486975534?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7920381850486975534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7920381850486975534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7920381850486975534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7920381850486975534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting-on-my-world-to-change.html' title='waiting on my world to change'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_1255_MEDIUM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5591771296435574940</id><published>2009-03-16T23:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:31:53.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>illegal wax?</title><content type='html'>OK first of all, let me apologize for 6 new posts in one day.  Apparently, I'm blonder than I thought.  I'm making all these new posts and hitting save and thinking everything is just peachy.  They today I realized that I'm saving them alright...  AS UNPUBLISHED POSTS!   See that drop down on the right?  Yeah...  I was forgetting to change it from unpublished to published! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                  &lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/untitled.jpg" alt="" width="384" height="205" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I posted a thread about my kids on 3FC and that nutjob accused me of really wanting them dead I just troll the boards over there, I dont post or respond to anything.  I like to read one of the subforums called Looking Good, Feeling Great.   There's a thread over there about &lt;a href="http://www.3fatchicks.com/forum/showthread.php?t=158533"&gt;sugaring and brazilian bikini waxes&lt;/a&gt;.   Now I'll admit this thought has always intrigued me.  I have never done it (14 years hated the thought) but since he and I arent together anymore I've been thinking about it.  I dont know if I could ever go through with it but the thought has crossed my mind more than once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, after reading this thread, I did a google search to see if there was a place around my town (not IN my town, but close to it) that does this,  how much it would cost..  stuff like that.   I found &lt;a href="http://www.philly.com/philly/hp/news_update/20090313_N_J__salon_owners_to_state__Mind_your_own__quot_B_quot__wax.html"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; article on Philly.com.  The entire article can be summed up in these two paragraphs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The painful Brazilian wax and its intimate derivatives are in danger of being stripped from salon and spa menus if a recent proposal to ban genital waxing is passed by the state's Board of Cosmetology and Hairstyling.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;New Jersey statutes allow waxing of the face, neck, arms, legs and abdomen, but officials say that genital waxing has always been illegal, although not spelled out.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For real?  THIS is on top of their list of things to regulate? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news,  I sent out 3 resumes on Saturday, maybe I'll get a callback this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out with the hotdog guy again yesterday.  It kept nagging at me,  what if my friend Kevin was right and I'm being too hard on the guy?  So I gave him another chance.  We went to Applebees for lunch.  Yes he paid.  He also had this weird scent.  It turned my stomach a little.  I dont know...  maybe I'm making excuses because he's not HIM but this guy and I aren't clicking.  He calls all the time,  talks about how much he misses me.  I'm just like "yeah... thats nice, can I go back to my movie now?"  I'm really just not interested in this guy.  He's nice enough but there's nothing there.  I just dont know how to tell him.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh!  hot sexy latin guy called me this morning.  He's miraculously recovered from his flu.   I think that nagging feeling I've been having is because he's married.  He was all set and ready to go out Friday afternoon but as soon as I rescheduled and made it for Friday night he got sick?   Then not a word from him all weekend until this morning?  Yeah.  Somethings up there and I dont think I want to stick around to find out what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow night I go out with TATTOO GUY!  This internet dating site might never find me the man of my dreams but it sure is getting me out of the house. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 2 pounds away from being back where I was before my meltdown.  I was down from 237 to 228.  Then I fell in that hole and didnt give a shit about anyone or anything and went back up to 234.  I lost 4 pounds this week so I'm almost back on track.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5591771296435574940?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5591771296435574940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5591771296435574940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5591771296435574940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5591771296435574940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/03/ok-first-of-all-let-me-apologize-for-6.html' title='illegal wax?'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_untitled.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5688662454380011203</id><published>2009-03-13T23:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:27:58.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>scam</title><content type='html'>It's a 40 minute drive to my interview.  I spent 25 of those minutes on the phone with Mr 14 years.  This is probably why I cant get completely over him...  I talk to him too much.   How can I not?  We have a son together.  But still, I hear his voice and something inside me still breaks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. I walk into the building and there are at least 30 people sitting in the waiting room.  This is without a doubt the strangest interview situation I have ever seen.  It's more like a casting call than a job interview.  I have a bad feeling about this.  Half an hour later they call my name.  I go into an office with this lady.  She asks me 3 questions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;li&gt;If I were to ask your friends and family for 3 words that best describe you, what would those words be?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;li&gt; What do you think is your best quality?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;li&gt;What aspect of your personality do you think needs the most work?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am completely confused. What does this have to do with network administration?  I'm given a 30 page questionnaire and directed to a conference room where I could fill it out.   In this room were at least 40 other people with the same questionnaire.   None of us know what is going on.  All of us are interviewing for the same position at the same time? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope!  This is a mass interview to sell life insurance!  Some guy walks up to the front of the room and starts his "now is the time to change your life" speech.  I have to say I bought into it.  They were guaranteeing a starting salary of 55k.  This could be it I'm thinking.  This could be the career change that I'm looking for.  No cold calling,  guaranteed leads.   This could be the new career that I'm wanting more than anything and it's possible because the money is there.  I'm feeling good about this!  Until I get home and research the company :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                             &lt;img src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/scam_alert_big.jpg" alt="" width="359" height="170" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Google &lt;a href="http://www.complaintsboard.com/complaints/american-income-life-c413.html"&gt;American Income Life &lt;/a&gt;and the first listing is the company website.   Then every other listing beneath it are scam warnings.   You know what they say...  if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.  At least there's dinner with HSLG tonight.  OR SO I THOUGHT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to meet at 6.  He was going to call me when he was on his way.  5:30... he should be close...  no phone call.  6:00.... he's gotta be here any minute....  no phone call.   6:15...  maybe he's stuck in traffic....  I called but got no answer.  6:30 still no answer.  7:00 after another unanswered phone call I sent him an angry text message telling him to lose my number.  8:30 he answers that text with "I'm sorry baby, I'm home sick"  So I take the bait "I'm sorry,  are you taking anything?"  Just as I expected..  he doesnt answer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My gut is proving itself to be right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5688662454380011203?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5688662454380011203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5688662454380011203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5688662454380011203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5688662454380011203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/03/scam.html' title='scam'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_scam_alert_big.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8755648871674877451</id><published>2009-03-12T23:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:27:05.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'>finally!  an interview</title><content type='html'>I have an interview on Friday morning.  They found me.  Said they found my resume on careerbuilder and think I'd be a good fit for a position they have opening.  It's a little farther away from home than I'd like but I'm not turning it away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This means I have to push back my date with hot-sexy latin guy.   He called yesterday, said after what I said the other day about losing vacation time he took Friday off and wants to have lunch.  I told him how the company I worked for filed for bankruptcy and I lost 5 weeks of vacation time.  They zero'd out everyones PTO time a week before the layoffs happened.   I told him I would never again save time like that because you never know what's going to happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's at work today so I sent him a text asking if we could turn lunch into a dinner because of my interview.  He said no problem.  Now that I'm thinking about it.... I never talk to him at night.   He texts me during the day, calls me on his lunch hour then again on his way home from work but then I dont hear from him again until the next day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm being paranoid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-8755648871674877451?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8755648871674877451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8755648871674877451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8755648871674877451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8755648871674877451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/03/finally-interview.html' title='finally!  an interview'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7126853152776388010</id><published>2009-03-09T23:25:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:25:56.021-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mondays</title><content type='html'>There are never any new job postings on Mondays.  How am I supposed to find a job when these people take weekends off!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The internet dating thing is going well.  Today I had coffee with HOT-SEXY LATIN GUY.  Oh my God that's no exaggeration!  I was on the site updating my profile and adding a new picture when he messaged me.  We chatted for a while and decided to meet later in the afternoon at Dunkin Donuts.  He's a 43 y/o divorced graphic artist, no kids.   We sat in DD for over an hour just talking then walked to the park across the street, we sat on the bench and talked some more.  We almost never ran out of things to talk about!  Then my son called me.  I didnt want him asking too many questions so I decided it was time to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids dont know that I'm dating.  I met Mr 14 years when they were still young.  They have no memory of me with their father.  14 years is the only man they've ever seen me with.  I dont want to be dragging new man after new man in front of them.  I figure I'll just keep it quiet and when I find someone who I know will be around for a while I will introduce them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving home from the park and HSLG called.  Said he had a wonderful afternoon and couldnt wait to see me again.  I dont know.  Something isnt sitting right, I have a weird nagging feeling about this one.  I'm not sure what it is yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7126853152776388010?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7126853152776388010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7126853152776388010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7126853152776388010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7126853152776388010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/03/there-are-never-any-new-job-postings-on.html' title='Mondays'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5453405407521608109</id><published>2009-03-07T23:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:25:10.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'>who pays?</title><content type='html'>The other day I mentioned that I'd gone out with internet guy twice. We went out again tonight and from now on he shall be forever known as HOTDOG GUY. I will explain :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/hot-dog.jpg" width="224" height="330" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice night so we went out for a drive. We stopped at this hot dog place for munchies. He ordered 2 cheese dogs and fries. I ordered one plain dog. Then I said "do you want me to pay? You paid last time we ate". Now this was a test. Mr 14 years wouldnt ever let me pay for anything. If he and I were going somewhere and I needed gas in my car he paid for it. I never asked him to, he just did. This is how I was raised to believe men behaved. So when I offered to pay and internet guy stepped away and said OK I was floored. I wanted to smack him in the back of the head and remind him that he was supposed to say no! He failed the test. There's no coming back from that! Especially since he knows that I have no job and very limited income.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned this to a male friend of mine after I'd gotten home. He told me that I was being too hard on the guy. "Maybe he said yes because he didnt want to hurt your feelings". So I called my friend Denise and asked her opinion. Both she and her husband agree with me. He should have said no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, there's no coming back from that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5453405407521608109?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5453405407521608109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5453405407521608109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5453405407521608109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5453405407521608109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-pays.html' title='who pays?'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_hot-dog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2724662732459109946</id><published>2009-03-05T23:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:23:59.555-04:00</updated><title type='text'>octomom</title><content type='html'>Can I ask what this countrys obsession with this woman is?   I'm sorry but I'm sick of hearing about her.  This woman is on the news every single day.  If it's not her it's her mom, or her dad or her neighbor or the lady who did her taxes 10 years ago.  I dont care about her!   Yes, my heart breaks for those babies.  There is no question she is a nutjob, she absolutely cant take care of all of those babies alone, yes her house is too small,  yes the doctor should have his license taken away.  She is eating up all this attention.  Stop feeding her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last nights mega millions was 212 million dollars.  There was one winning ticket...  10 people on that one ticket.  I spent a few bucks on some tickets too.  I would have been happy to share that 212 million with 100 other people.  I dont want a lot.  Just a million or 2 in the bank after taxes and I'm happy as a pig in shit.  You know what I'd do if I won all that money?  First I'd give a bunch to the church.  I'd create trust funds for my kids so they could go to college, buy a house, get married...  whatever they wanted to do.  But they cant have the money unless they're working or in school.  I dont care what jobs they have as long as they have one.  I'm not going to let my boys be lazy.  I'd buy my mom a new house (hers is falling down around her).  Then I would buy a small apartment building.  I have this fantasy where I own a building and single mothers live in it.  Single moms and their kids.  I would provide them a place to live for free while they went to college.   One of the apartments would be turned into a daycare center so they could study without worrying about who was watching their kids.  They would have to get part time jobs to buy their own food and stuff.  But their rent, utilities and child care expenses would be free.   I wish I had a chance like that when my husband first left us.  If I won millions of dollars THAT is what I would do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gained 4 pounds last week.  I lost one of them so far.   Tonight we had pancakes for dinner.  One pancake is only 1 point!  It was a good dinner :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2724662732459109946?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2724662732459109946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2724662732459109946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2724662732459109946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2724662732459109946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/03/octomom.html' title='octomom'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8676849385042329435</id><published>2009-02-27T23:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:22:59.727-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hi again</title><content type='html'>I've been gone for a while. I'm ok. I just fell into a hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didnt want to do anything, go anywhere, talk to anybody. It's taken every ounce of me to fight off the nothing that I wanted to be. So what put me here? Hell if I know. I hope I have a round trip ticket because I dont want to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out with internet guy twice. He is nice enough, thinks I'm beautiful. I didnt realize that dating would take up so much time. Maybe its not supposed to but it did. We met on Tuesday night. He called me when he got home. He texted me all day from work on Wednesday, called again Wednesday night. Wash, rinse and repeat on Thursday. I wanted to go out sometimes, not give up every night of my life to be with him in one way or another. We went out again on Friday. I sat there across the table from him wishing that I was somewhere else... WITH someone else. With HIM! (Why cant I let him go?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have no job. There arent many jobs out here and I'm applying for every one that I can find. I'm just not getting any answers. I hate the feeling of not being good enough. I used to think that getting within an inch of the job and losing it was the hardest. I was wrong. Sending out 20 resumes and not getting a single phone call in return can really suck the life out of a person. Even the recruiters have stopped calling. I dont know what is going to happen. I have my new lease in my hands. I'm afraid to sign it. What if unemployment runs out and I still dont have a job? Everyone keeps talking about this economic stimulus. How is that going to help me? All these *new jobs* that are supposed to be created... they're all construction. I dont see how that saves me or people like me. Looks like its all bullshit but we're supposed to have hope. Sorry Mr President, hope isnt going to feed my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My computer took a vacation on Tuesday. I have a water cooled system and with everything thats going on in my life right now I forgot to keep a check on the water levels. Tuesday it ran so low the machine wouldnt stay on. It's fixed now but life with only my laptop was difficult. Not that I used it much. I didnt even care if I turned it on. I dont care about much of anything these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I havent been staying on my diet. I was sick for a couple of days. Feed a cold and all that happy shit. I gained 4 pounds back and I have to be honest and say that right now.... I really dont care. I want chocolate ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://graphjam.com/2009/02/28/song-chart-memes-tub-cream/"&gt;&lt;img class="mine_3534402" alt="song chart memes" src="http://graphjam.wordpress.com/files/2008/10/song-chart-memes-tub-cream.jpg" width="450" height="404" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I raged at my kids Wednesday night. It was a holy day (Ash Wednesday) and I exploded all over our apartment. I screamed at everybody. I flipped my dining room table over. All those little things that I normally just suck up and ignore bubbled up and I exploded all over them. Thursday morning I didnt even recognize myself and hated myself even more. My middle boy still hasnt spoken to me. Cant say as I blame him. I was a monster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that everyone falls into this hole at least once in their lives. The last time I was in it my back was still good and I was always able to waitress to make money. I cant stand up for more than 10 minutes at a time, no way can I carry a tray or an armful of plates anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when you're in your hole....... how do you get out?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-8676849385042329435?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8676849385042329435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8676849385042329435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8676849385042329435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8676849385042329435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/hi-again.html' title='hi again'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7972630022675893796</id><published>2009-02-16T23:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:21:15.454-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chasing my dreams</title><content type='html'>On Feb 12 I wrote this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who knows, maybe I’ll figure out a way to start a new career AND take care of my family at the same time before the next job offer comes. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've found that way. Online classes! I started out researching University of Phoenix. Then I read an article on someones blog talking about that place. First of all they're for-profit, meaning they're in it for the money as opposed to the education. That makes their courses more expensive than anywhere else. Second (and maybe more importantly) their credits dont transfer. So now that I knew where NOT to go, I needed to learn where TO go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a list of brick and mortar universities that also offer online learning. Ever since I was a little girl I've wanted to be a psychologist. I remember setting up my own little "the doctor is IN" (like Peanut's Lucy) stand in my bedroom and counseling my dolls. So that's where I focused my google search.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baker College of Flint&lt;br /&gt;City University of Seattle&lt;br /&gt;Corban College&lt;br /&gt;Dallas Baptist University&lt;br /&gt;Drexel University&lt;br /&gt;Penn State&lt;br /&gt;Roosevelt University&lt;br /&gt;State University of New York-Empire State College&lt;br /&gt;Thomas Edison State College&lt;br /&gt;University of Houston–Victoria&lt;br /&gt;University of Wyoming&lt;br /&gt;Upper Iowa University&lt;br /&gt;Utah State University&lt;br /&gt;Burlington College&lt;br /&gt;Columbia College&lt;br /&gt;Eastern Oregon University&lt;br /&gt;Judson College&lt;br /&gt;LeTourneau University&lt;br /&gt;Liberty University&lt;br /&gt;Limestone College&lt;br /&gt;Mercy College&lt;br /&gt;New York Institute of Technology&lt;br /&gt;Northeastern University&lt;br /&gt;Northwestern State University of Louisiana&lt;br /&gt;Regent University&lt;br /&gt;Saint Mary-of-the-Woods College&lt;br /&gt;Southern New Hampshire University&lt;br /&gt;University of Maryland University College&lt;br /&gt;University of Massachusetts-Lowell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about this. I know that at my age a phd to open my own little office is an unreal expectation. I'm 44 years old. If I chased the complete dream I'd be in my mid 50's before I graduated. That's damn near retirement age. However, there's nothing stopping me from getting a 4 year BS and doing drug abuse counseling or something along those lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the smack in the face from reality. I'm 44 years old. I need to track down my HS transcript. I wasnt a very good HS student. As a matter of fact, I quit HS and finished my education at a local night school. Can I get transcripts from 25 years ago? Will my laziness &amp;amp; bad grades from way back then hurt my chances now? I never took my SAT's. Do I need those? And I dont even want to think about financing! Can I get financing? Financial aid? I'm still paying off a student loan from 20 years ago, can I get another one? As far as that old loan goes, I am sure of one thing.... even though I defaulted on it all those years ago, being as I am making regular payments now I am eligible for another loan. (Yes, I defaulted on my loan... short version.... after quitting HS &amp;amp; getting GED I went to one of those 9 month certification schools. While in school met and married the guy daddy hated. He turned into caveman... made me quit school, wouldnt let me work to repay the loan.) Being a single mom has torched my credit rating. Will I even qualify for a loan? I mean, I busted my ass trying to improve my credit and managed to get it from bankruptcy in 2005 to FAIR but losing my job sent me straight back down to POOR. I dont understand that either. There arent any black marks on my credit for the past 3 years. Even without a job I've made my credit card payments on time and in full. I havent made a car payment in 3 months but all of those payments have been deferred so they dont show up on my credit report either. The ONLY change has been losing my job and that sends my credit back into the pit? It's not fair but it's a rant for another day :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to be careful. I cant allow myself to get excited over this possibility yet. There are a lot of road blocks to knock down. I'm not sure which one to tackle first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7972630022675893796?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7972630022675893796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7972630022675893796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7972630022675893796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7972630022675893796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/chasing-my-dreams.html' title='Chasing my dreams'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-310685415930468276</id><published>2009-02-15T23:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:19:58.334-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>OK so I signed up for this online dating site. Today I had lunch and a nice walk with one guy. Coffee and dessert tomorrow with another. I wasnt going to start dating until I'd lost some of this extra weight. I didnt think I felt good enough about myself. Then I realized I'd been using those words.... good enough. I have never been good enough for anybody. I have been in 3 serious relationship in my lifetime. I wasnt enough for my first husband, he also needed alcohol. I wasnt enough for my second husband, he also needed other women and drugs. And I wasnt enough for my last boyfriend. We were together for 12 years and it turns out I wasnt enough for him either, if I were wouldnt have needed a whole other family behind my back. Yeah... long ugly story... I'm saving it for a rainy day. I've already opened up the daddy wound, this one needs to stay closed for a little while longer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. I refuse to believe that I'm *not enough* any more. I AM enough damnit and it's about time someone else agreed with me! He's got to be out there somewhere right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK SO!! Today all the Valentines day candy and flowers were 50% off. I love a sale :) I bought 2 count 'em TWO bags of jelly hearts. They're both in my bottom desk drawer. I dont know when (or IF) I'll ever eat them but at least I got Valentines candy lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/jlo0018l.jpg" width="393" height="281" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If receiving a Valentine means that somebody loves you then buying myself a Valentine means that I love me .... either that or I'm just a sucker for a sale :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-310685415930468276?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/310685415930468276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=310685415930468276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/310685415930468276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/310685415930468276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_jlo0018l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4897101546590751272</id><published>2009-02-14T23:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:18:40.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'>so yeah...  Valentines Day</title><content type='html'>I love the story of Saint Valentine. There are actually 3 saints named Valentine but only one gets a holiday. Legend has it that he was a priest during the reign of Claudius II who defied Roman law to perform marriage ceremonies. He was arrested, stoned and beheaded for his trouble. There are actually a few stories of St Valentine and nobody is completely sure which one gets the holiday. But I like that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this day of chocolate and roses I learned a valuable lesson...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                             &lt;img alt="" src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/valentines_chocolate.jpg" width="271" height="270" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If nobody gives you chocolate, you cant break you diet by eating it :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4897101546590751272?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4897101546590751272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4897101546590751272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4897101546590751272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4897101546590751272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-yeah-valentines-day.html' title='so yeah...  Valentines Day'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_valentines_chocolate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2475282325002421984</id><published>2009-02-12T23:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:16:42.798-04:00</updated><title type='text'>its over</title><content type='html'>The VP called me today. He said he'd heard that I was unhappy with the salary I'd been offered but they had no intention of ever paying anybody 55k. I said "the job was posted at 55K, if you werent going to pay that, why did you put it out there?" I also told him that I felt the whole "she was happy before, she'll be happy again" attittude was a little insulting. I reminded him that "without knowing someones entire situation, you have no right to judge them on their behaviors, decisions and choices". At that point I told him my health history and my reasons for staying in an underpaid, dead end job. I also pointed out that if I had been able to walk I would have have absolutely searched for and found a job paying me what I was worth, but since I was in a wheelchair my choice was simple... low pay is still more pay than disability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said that he understood my reasons and would discuss it with the CFO and IT Director. I told him that my 55 wasnt set in stone either. They were offering me 50, I was looking for 55. "Maybe we could meet in the middle?", I said "compromise and make it 53?" He said that he would take that number, discuss it with the above mentioned people and someone would get back to me maybe tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 hours later my phone rang. It was the IT Director and he was mad!! They refuse to go any higher than the 50. He told me that he also believes 50 is too low for what the job entails but they are adamant. They want him to place another ad and I heard him try to cover the phone and say (apparently to someone else in the room) "they arent going to get anyone qualified at that salary, I'm not putting another ad up"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's it. My decision was made for me. It's all good. I'm sure something will come up. Who knows, maybe I'll figure out a way to start a new career AND take care of my family at the same time before the next job offer comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lesson in all this mess is............ always LIE about your salary history!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2475282325002421984?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2475282325002421984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2475282325002421984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2475282325002421984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2475282325002421984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-over.html' title='its over'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8739564337546607623</id><published>2009-02-11T23:12:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:15:50.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'>now what?</title><content type='html'>I got an offer letter for that job. The problem is they're offering to match what I was paid at my last job &amp;amp; not what was posted on the monster ad. I'm going to put the numbers out there. The job was posted stating a salary range of between 55-65k. During the whole interview process all I was asked was what I made at my last position. I was very honest (which turns out to be my problem but I'll get to that later) I was honest and said I made 48k. I also made sure to bring up the fact that nobody ever got raises at my last job. In the 5 and a half years that I was there I saw one pay increase. It wasnt job related, they just didnt do it. Their excuse was always the same "this is retail, sales are down from last year". I did the math. If I had gotten regular annual increases I would have been making 53,400 at the time of the bankruptcy so in my next job I dont think it's unfair to ask for 55. The offer letter that I got stated they were offering me 48k.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I answered back with this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Thank you for the offer but I am a little confused. I was hoping to earn more than my last position paid. Your ad on Monster said the pay range was 55-65k. I applied for the position because that is the pay range that I was looking for. I accepted the low pay and lack of annual increases at my last employer because of the convenience of working from home. If I had gotten annual raises I would've been earning somewhere in the area of 53k.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;He (the man who will be my manager if I accept) called me and said that I was right. He also felt the 48 was too low but that's what they decided to offer me. He said their line of thinking is "if I was happy with 48 at my last job, I should be happy with 48 from them". He told me to send a formal email to him stating that I am looking for the 55k that was being offered. About 2 hours later he called me back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;They are only willing to go to 50 with a review and possible increase after 3 months. Their original train of thought stands. If I was happy before, I will be happy again. But I wasnt happy with the 48. I only accepted it for 2 reasons. Most importantly... I COULDNT WALK! When my back started getting really bad, they let me work from home part time. When my second surgery failed and I couldnt stand for more than a minute, they let me work from home. After my second surgery when my leg was paralyzed, they let me work from home. During all of this we still had a corporate office a few miles away, everybody else was still reporting to work. I was working from home &amp;amp; going to the office only 4 hours a week for 2 full years before everybody else was! They made special arrangements for me because our building was not handicap accessible and because they were nice that way (my boss was the BEST!). No I wasnt getting paid what I was worth and I wasnt getting a raise but I was definately getting paid more than disability would've been paying me! The money I saved working from home was great and made the low salary easier to handle. My car insurance was lower, I didnt have to pay for gas or tolls. I didnt have to buy clothes for work or have to pay someone to watch my youngest son after school. I've had my car for 2 years and still havent needed to put new brakes or tires because I never drive the thing. Not to mention the income tax deductions from having a home office. Working from home saved me an ass load of money! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;I asked about this possible increase. He said they will review my performance after 3 months. If I have totally blown their socks off with my IT genius they will give me a raise. He couldnt tell me how much. He said maybe as low as 500.00 but he's sure it wont be higher than 2k. He told me that he also feels 50 is too low but they arent budging. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;So now I really dont know what to do. This is a job that I really didnt want. I decided that I would take it when I thought they pay was 55. Now they're offering 50 and he flat out told me that this company doesnt give regular raises either. He said every 2 or 3 years they give 3%, nobody gets rich at that company but they treat you well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;Do I take a job paying less than what I'm worth? In this economy can I afford not to? The more I think about it the more I'm discovering that I dont want to work for people who make random assumptions about what motivates a person. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-8739564337546607623?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8739564337546607623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8739564337546607623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8739564337546607623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8739564337546607623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/now-what.html' title='now what?'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4372294292273829743</id><published>2009-02-10T23:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:12:07.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions</title><content type='html'>My ex-boss called today (he and I got laid off on the same day). The guy from last week called him for a reference. I dont know what to do. I NEED a job. I hate what I've been doing (IT work). I really dont like this guy. I still have a few months left on unemployment. Do I take the chance and turn this down if he calls? Do I want to take a job doing something that I hate while working for a guy I dont like? The market is pretty bad, what if I dont get anything else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have to come to terms with my career choice. I need to learn to be happy with it because I really dont see any other options. As much as I would love to go back to school to learn something else, I cant afford to start a new career at entry level salary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news... dinner tonight was amazing!! I got the recipe from weightwachers.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chicken Jambalaya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POINTS® Value: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Servings: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Preparation Time: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;25 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Cooking Time: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;30 min&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Level of Difficulty: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Easy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This New Orleans specialty is a great choice for feeding your Mardi Gras crowd. Make it in advance and reheat before your guests arrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ingredients&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 spray(s) cooking spray&lt;br /&gt;2 1/2 oz raw turkey sausage, chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 large onion(s), chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 medium celery, stalk, chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 small green pepper(s), chopped&lt;br /&gt;1/4 tsp cayenne pepper, or to taste&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp dried thyme&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp table salt&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp black pepper, ground&lt;br /&gt;2 medium garlic clove(s), minced&lt;br /&gt;2 medium chicken breast, cooked, skinless, cubed (about 2 cups)&lt;br /&gt;28 oz canned tomatoes, whole, plum, peeled with juice&lt;br /&gt;2 cup(s) fat-free chicken broth&lt;br /&gt;1 cup(s) uncooked white rice, long-grain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Instructions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Coat a large, nonstick saucepan with cooking spray. Over high heat, sauté sausage until crispy on edges. Add onion, celery and green pepper; sauté until tender.&lt;br /&gt;Reduce heat and stir in cayenne, thyme, salt, pepper and garlic; sauté until garlic is fragrant.&lt;br /&gt;Stir in chicken, tomatoes, broth and rice. Bring to a simmer, cover and let cook until rice is tender, about 20 minutes. Yields about 1 1/4 cups per serving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4372294292273829743?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4372294292273829743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4372294292273829743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4372294292273829743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4372294292273829743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/decisions.html' title='Decisions'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4784332829676573190</id><published>2009-02-09T23:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:04:40.157-04:00</updated><title type='text'>no news is still no news</title><content type='html'>Who ever came up with that "no news is good news" shit? No news is just that.... nothing new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing new on the job front. I had that second interview last week. The guy said he'd call me on Monday with his decision, he didnt. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I really dont want to work for him. He is the kind of person who's never satisfied. He's firing the guy who has the job right now because "he hasnt grown enough". I dont even know what that means! So yeah, I'm not sure I want &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;THAT&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; job but I know that I need &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; job. I really cant afford to be picky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a copy of this months Entrepreneur magazine. On the cover it says "LAID OFF? START A BUSINESS IN '09" It seemed to be calling my name. Inside are all these franchises that they've rated in terms of growth potential. What they dont tell you is the startup costs to open one of these franchises. I googled a few and the cheapest I checked was 20k, the most expensive was over 200k. I've always wanted to own my own business, too bad I dont have the funds necessary to start one. I know I dont have to open a franchise but I am honestly not that creative. I dont know what business I'd be good at. Pretty high on the list is an Adam and Eve franchise. I have to admit I was intrigued. Selling adult toys and movies. LOL My kids would disown me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, on another note... I havent stepped on the warscale since the last time I blogged (5 days ago?). Today is my day to weigh in. I've lost 3 more pounds! One month and 2 days since I jumped and I've lost a total of 7 pounds! I'm feeling pretty damn good Thank you very much :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                    &lt;img style="VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle" alt="" src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/success_baby1.jpg" width="371" height="293" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night chickies!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4784332829676573190?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4784332829676573190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4784332829676573190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4784332829676573190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4784332829676573190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/no-news-is-still-no-news.html' title='no news is still no news'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_success_baby1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-1015801385306458067</id><published>2009-02-04T23:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:03:10.061-04:00</updated><title type='text'>another second interview</title><content type='html'>first of all, to anyone who suffered through Sundays post... I am sorry. I thought about deleting it but if I'm going to make this *lifestyle change* work then I need to be honest with myself about everything all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So! On to better days :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had another second interview today, different company - I still havent heard from that other one. This was with the guy I met with last week (the one I was afraid of giving pink eye to). Speaking of the pink eye... it's grown into infected eye! Apparently I've scratched it so much that it's now infected. I have this goopy ointment that I have to stick in it 3 times a day. So yeah, today I met with the CFO and the VP. They had all kinds of non-technical questions for me. I think their job was to see if I *fit* into their team. We'll see. I sent my resume to another company today. Their advertising for a job that I can do and have a decent amount of experience with but it's not computer related. It's a slight paycut but not enough to be painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna know a secret? I hate computers! I love that being a techy has allowed me to pay the rent and feed my kids for so many years but I hate it. If there was a second paycheck coming in my house I would definately go back to school and learn something completely new &amp;amp; different. Problem is, I cant afford to start a new career at entry level, not when I'm the only one bringing money in the house. I dont want to read trade magazines for the rest of my life. I want to read novels about love, murder mysteries, scary stories. I dont want to spend my life reading about the latest processors and the latest, greatest server hardware. I have so little time as it is to read. I hate that the only thing people want to talk to me about is the problem they're having with their computers. Here's a story..... while I was in the hospital after my fusion I needed physical therapy. Because my leg was paralyzed they had to teach me how to use a walker and how to manage my day to day life (at that point we didnt know if my leg would ever come back or not). The therapist walked into room with this walker. He showed me how to stand into it and take my first steps. The plan was for me to walk from my room to the end of the hallway and back. We made it to my door when he asked me what I did for a living. From that point on all he talked about was his printer sharing problems and the slow internet connection he has at home. We didnt talk about my therapy at all. That happens all the time. People that I havent spoken to in years suddenly remember my phone number when their monitors stop working or when they need to upgrade and need shopping advice. I had a friend from high school. She got married, had a baby &amp;amp; moved away. I spoke to her twice after she had her son then she moved and we lost touch. One day - TWO YEARS LATER - my phone rings. It's her! Wow! Its so good to hear your voice. How are you? Oh we're fine. My husband is trying to create his ebay page but cant figure out how to make the background black. Do you know how to do that? So I give her the html code that she needs for the page to have a black background. She says thanks and hangs up. That's my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. What else is new? My middle son broke his hand yesterday. I spent all day at that hospital only this time I walked right by that discharge window. He has insurance but there was still a copay. I'll mail them a check for 35 bucks when the bill comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was at the hospital all day there was no dieting. The school nurse called while I was just sitting down for breakfast so I didnt get to eat it. It was after 4 when we got home. I was exhausted and my back was screaming at me in 4 different languages. We ordered Dominos and I called it a night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, back on the wagon. Is it really a surprise that I havent lost any more weight? I started this *lifestyle change* on January 6th. Today is February 4th and I've lost 4 pounds. I spend more time falling off the wagon then I do sitting on it. Sometimes I wonder if I should just give up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-1015801385306458067?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/1015801385306458067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=1015801385306458067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1015801385306458067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1015801385306458067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/another-second-interview.html' title='another second interview'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-2056584681053342430</id><published>2009-02-01T23:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:02:02.465-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Steelers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;(long and whiney..... sad and depressing.... probably best to just skip today - come back tomorrow for happier thoughts)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a hard day to get through. The Steelers are in the superbowl (they're winning but it's not over yet). My dad was the biggest Steelers fan. His house was decorated in Steelers colors, he had terrible towels made into seat covers for his car. He was buried in his Jerome Bettis jersey. At the cemetary we all wore our Steelers jerseys. Today I miss him the most. I can almost hear him yelling at the tv. When I close my eyes I can see him. Then I cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and I had a strained relationship. He and my mom split up when I was 7. In the beginning he got a room in a boarding house a few blocks from where we lived so that he could stay close. We saw him a lot in the beginning. Then he met Joan. She had 4 kids of her own, the youngest was around 2 years old if not younger. My grandparents were married almost 50 years, my dad wanted that more than anything... even more than he wanted his kids. He couldnt have it with my mother. He was determined to make it work with Joan... no matter what it took. The longer he was with Joan the less he was with me and my brother. At first they moved across town but he stopped paying child support. His excuse was always the same "Joans kids need _____", "I had to buy ____ for Joans kids". Her kids were becoming his kids and his kids were becoming invisible. Eventually she took him away completely. Her son Michael was in the air force stationed in VA. Joan couldnt stand being away from one of her kids so they moved there. It'd be 15 years before I'd see my dad again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember being SO bitter! Everything I that I would do during those first few years was designed to get his attention. I got good grades... he didnt notice. I got bad grades.... he didnt notice. I did drugs.... he didnt notice. Nothing I did was enough to make him notice me. Then he was gone for good. Joan won. She'd gotten what she wanted... she had him all to herself. They were a nice, happy family with no reminders of his *other life*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, I got married. I picked a man that I knew he would hate. I sent him an invitation to our wedding, he sent me back the ashes of that invitation. I had done it. I had FINALLY gotten daddys attention! I dont think I ever loved him for who he was. I loved my husband because my father hated him. Husband and I had 2 kids. Husband had more girlfriends than he had socks. Husband finally left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont even remember how it happened. I just remember one day dad and I talking but I'm sure it was me who finally broke and picked up the phone. Dad and I had finally started putting the pieces back together when he got sick. We didnt have enough time. Why is there never enough time? I dont know if we honestly forgave each other or if we lied to make the other feel better. 10 years and I still dont have an answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dads cancer was discovered during a routine chest x-ray. He was going in the hospital to have a cataract removed. It was during the preadmission testing that they found it. Small cell cancer in his right lung. 9 months later he was gone. I was pregnant when they found out so they didnt tell me. They waited until I'd had my son. As soon as I found out the kids and I drove out to see him. I saw him again a few months later and, even though he looked fine, I knew it'd be the last time I ever saw him alive. Cancer never emaciated my dad. He was always a big guy, he had that big belly in the front. He had it when he was young and he had it the day he died. I remember being in the funeral home, alone in the room with just the coffin and my brother. I was so mad at him. I lost my mind. I hit him. I was a lunatic in a funeral home punching a body and screaming at him. I wasnt done yet! WE werent done yet! How could you leave me when we werent finished!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sicker he got the more his disease became about Joan. I called him almost every day towards the end and every day I would get to hear Joan complain about how hard it was for HER. I would ask how he was and she would tell me how SHE was. One day I called to talk to him but he was sleeping. Joan told me that he'd had a rough night. She asked if she should wake him but I told her no. "Let him sleep" I said, "I'll call him later during my lunch break". You see, I wanted to get her off the phone before she started. I told her that I was late for work but I wasnt. I just didnt want to hear about HER night again. 2 hours later my step-sister called to tell me he was gone. If only I'd had her wake him! If I'd had her wake him that morning maybe the coma wouldnt have taken him, maybe he'd never have gone into a coma at all. People sitting at the breakfast table just dont suddenly go into comas. If I'd had her wake him he would've been at the table. If I hadnt been in such a rush to get her off the phone and had her wake him then maybe the coma would've been found in time to get him to a hospital. Maybe they could've saved him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure the rest of the family feels the same way. They also blame me. They have to. They treated us like shit at the wake and after. There was no room for my brother and me in the funeral car. The funeral director thought that was so wrong that he let me ride in the hurst. They read his will and saw that he'd left his house to his grand-neice (nothing for his biological children, no mention of us at all in fact). They sold that house and split the money between them ignoring his final wishes. Those kids... the kids he left us for, the ones he replaced us with... none of those kids even cared if he had a headstone or not. I found out 2 years later that my dad STILL had no stone. They left him buried there like a John Doe. I'm in NJ, dad is buried in PA so buying one in person wasnt possible. I called the cemetary and they put me in touch with a local dealer. Working by email and fax machine that man and I designed a headstone that dad would be proud to have. I had a football helmet engraved on the back of it. That man was sent to me by God, I'm sure of it. I was then and still am a single parent. When he told me how much the stone would cost I started to cry. I didnt have that kind of money. I was a waitress with 3 kids to feed. That man, a total stranger almost 800 miles away, put that stone on my dads grave and let me make payments. Every week I sent him a check until it was paid in full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was so hard. I'm wearing my own Jerome Bettis jersey. It's the one that I bought to wear to the cemetary. I've thought about him all day and even more tonight. I have his picture on the coffee table, pretending that he's here with me. Pretending that we'd had enough time to fix everything. I sit here tonight, rooting for his team, hoping that he really did love me. Hoping that, in the end, he knew that I really loved him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4th quarter. Cardinals just scored. I can hear him yelling from here. Do they have superbowl parties in Heaven? I didnt get to have any buffalo wings or pizza bagels today. I hope my dad did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-2056584681053342430?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/2056584681053342430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=2056584681053342430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2056584681053342430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/2056584681053342430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/02/go-steelers.html' title='Go Steelers!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-8380229957798740389</id><published>2009-01-30T22:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:43:34.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'>wow FIOS!</title><content type='html'>It took that poor guy almost 13 hours to install my FIOS.   He said a normal install is around 6 hours, mine took longer because it’s a really old house with really old wires.  I felt so bad for him.  I kept apologizing for it taking so long.  He said he didnt mind… “I can use the overtime”.  Are you supposed to tip those guys?   I dont know but I gave him a twenty.  It’s all I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didnt follow the plan today.   It was so crazy with all the people in and out all day.  The problem with doing WW Online is that you need to be online.   I wasnt.  They took down my existing cables early in the morning because they all had to be replaced.   I didnt have internet or tv until after 11 and by then I was too tired to count.   I dont know how many points I ate so I dont know how many are left for the week.  I’m only awake long enough to check my email and stay accountable on here.  I’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I’m starting at day One again.    I wonder if there’s an easier way to get back on the wagon after you fall off.  Starting at day 1 is a little discouraging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-8380229957798740389?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/8380229957798740389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=8380229957798740389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8380229957798740389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/8380229957798740389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/wow-fios.html' title='wow FIOS!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7635001267865612686</id><published>2009-01-28T22:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:42:17.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>big day</title><content type='html'>big as in *lots of stuff today* not big as in *an important day*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I postponed my interview this morning. My right eye has been watery for 2 days now. I assumed it was allergies. I know it’s winter but Riley’s (the rabbit) hay makes me sneeze when I get close to the cage to feed him or fill the bin so I thought it was related. Today I wake up and my eye is on fire! It burns. It’s bright red, itches like crazy and there’s goop coming out of it. How gross is that!! So yeah… it’s not an allergy. Rather than risk spreading pinkeye around everywhere I went, I cancelled my interview and made a doctors appointment. It’s probably not a good idea to infect a potential new boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 264px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367787267589530178" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn42FIKJ4kI/AAAAAAAAAA8/FR2-fFW6ZKw/s320/sp.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so this is a brand new doctor. When I got laid off I applied for NJ Family care. It's basically a HMO'd medicaid program. Neither my primary doctor or my surgeons or my pain management therapist accept it but it pays for my meds and the kids pediatrician takes it. Because of my back issues, I cant afford to be without some kind of insurance. One day without coverage and my back becomes a pre-existing condition and no insurance company will ever touch it. This Family Care business stops that - that's really all that's important. I decide that I really need a doctor quick so I call the doctor who's listed on the card as my new primary. I make the appt and get there just to be told "oh, we dont take that insurance anymore". NICE! Ya couldnt have told me BEFORE I drove here?!?! So tomorrow morning I'll go to my primary and write him a check that hopefully he wont deposit until Monday. Either that or I'll gouge my eyes out with a spork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a spork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, I believe it has infected both eyes now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did find a funny article about how to write an e-article (or blog post) with pinkeye. It's &lt;a href="http://www.ehow.com/how_2034797_articles-through-stabbing-case-pinkeye.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; if you want to read it. I love step 3...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The moment you feel both eyes throb with itchy/stabby pain, rush right out to your local A&amp;amp;P for snacks and beverages--you'll need this fuel to power through your articles. You won't be able to drive for at least 4 days:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, some good (non-goopy) news. My Wii Fit came yesterday. I got it all connected and happy... step on it and it says I'm 2 pounds lighter than my &lt;a title="blogpost about the scale that hates me" href="http://3fatchicks.com/diet-blogs/twice/2009/01/07/1200-seems-too-high/"&gt;warscale&lt;/a&gt;. I knew that digital monster hated me! Now I have PROOF! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy from the phone interview called too. I'm meeting with him tomorrow (Wednesday) at 2:30..... if I'm not blind by then. Dont worry, I'll wear gloves so I dont infect him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on I went to the grocery store to see if they had something that'd make these eyes less painful. They had some homeopathic stuff for 10 bucks. I bought it. It doesnt help. But while I was there I found heaven. Throughout this whole miserable week (lol it's only Tuesday) I've wanted potato chips. My want was made worse by knowing that I can never, ever have potato chips again. Until today. Today I found Lays LIGHT. Half the calories of regular chips. 20 chips is 75 calories + zero grams of fat = 1 point per serving! That's even less than the baked chips! YAY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/lays.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get that I cant sit and eat the whole bag anymore but at least there's light in my tunnel. I've read the horror stories about Olestra and I think I even believe them. I'm looking at that one particular side effect as a positive. It will force me to not eat the whole bag in one sitting or even all in one day. So "never, ever" has morphed into a big "SOMETIMES". Tis a good day to be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then comes dinner. This was the icing on my entire day. My son brought me an everything bagel with low fat cream cheese for breakfast today. He knows those are my favorite bagels, he knows I'm having a shitty day and thought it'd cheer me up. He even got low fat cream cheese because he knows I'm dieting. I didnt want to hurt his feelings by not eating it but it cost me almost 10 points. I was searching weightwatchers.com for some low point dinners that were easy enough for a blind person to make AND that my kids would eat. I struck gold! I found this recipe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="HEIGHT: auto" class="art_intro"&gt;&lt;span class="recipe_title"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-large;color:#287ac6;"&gt;Pepperoni Pizza Pouches&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="uctl_receipe_divRecipeStatsTop" class="recipe_statstop"&gt;&lt;div id="uctl_receipe_divRecipeBoxTop" class="recipeboxtop-lg"&gt;&lt;div class="no-img"&gt;&lt;div id="uctl_receipe_divRecipeStats" class="recipestats"&gt;&lt;!-- end insert top intro section with image box --&gt;&lt;!-- end top intro section --&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ingredients&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;10 oz frozen pizza crust dough, at room temperature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 tbsp canned tomato sauce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup(s) part-skim mozzarella cheese, shredded&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 oz pepperoni, in 8 slices&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="recipe_bod"&gt;&lt;div class="recipe_int"&gt;&lt;h4&gt;&lt;em&gt;Instructions&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Preheat the oven to 425°F; spray a nonstick baking sheet with nonstick cooking spray.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;On a lightly floured work surface, unroll the dough. With your hands, press it into a square; cut into 4 squares. Place dough on the baking sheet. Spread dough with the tomato sauce and sprinkle with the cheese. With the dough on the diagonal, fold in the corners as bi-fold rolls, pressing the corners gently to seal; leave some of the pasta sauce exposed. Place a pepperoni slice on the exposed pasta sauce. Bake until the cheese melts and the crust is golden brown, 10-15 minutes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used turkey pepperoni instead of regular to save some calories/fat grams and the kids loved it! Since I saved so much on the pepperoni I was able to add 1/4 cup of part-skim ricotta cheese. I let each of them make their own *calzone* and I even found the ingredients for Pizza Huts breadstick topping, they sprinkled some on top of theirs - I did not. OMG it was SOOO good! I measured every ingredient (including the ricotta cheese), put it into my WW online thingy... 6.5 points and I'm stuffed! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. And today I learned (realized?) something. I've been wondering why I havent lost more than 3 pounds in 3 weeks. I read a post on 3FG this morning where someone (I'm sorry, I forget who) said something about a "monthly 5 pounds". Could it be possible that right TOM adds 5 pounds? If so I'm good because she's due here in a couple of days. I guess we shall see :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7635001267865612686?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7635001267865612686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7635001267865612686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7635001267865612686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7635001267865612686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/big-day.html' title='big day'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn42FIKJ4kI/AAAAAAAAAA8/FR2-fFW6ZKw/s72-c/sp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3298824252462200532</id><published>2009-01-27T22:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:42:02.788-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate titles</title><content type='html'>Would it be rude to use the same title for every post? I hate thinking up those things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids had a snow day today. I swear, 4 flakes fall and they close school. When I was a kid you had to get lost in it for school to close. We got less than an inch of snow today. The rest was rain. They could've gone to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to the doctors this morning. He gave me eye drops and warned me to stay away from silverware and battery acid. He was great as usual. Promised not to deposit my check until I called to say it was ok. Sometimes I wish doctors still worked for stuff. My grandmother told me her doctor (country doc) back in the day used to make housecalls and took livestock as payment. Like chickens and shit. I wish my doctor would take a chicken. Not that I have a chicken to pay him with. I have a nasty parakeet. He can have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on my interview. I'd say it went pretty well but I'm afraid to jinx it. I thought the other one went really well and havent heard a word from them yet. It took me a little over half an hour to get there at 2:30 in the afternoon. I'm guessing that means about an hour in rush hour? Yuck. Truth be told, I loved the drive. I love driving. I hate driving in traffic. I was very, very careful. I explained my pinkeye and he said he'd have understood if I cancelled. I didnt want to cancel even though I probably should have. I was afraid if I cancelled he'd think I was making an excuse not to drive in the snow. If he thought I was making excuses for the snow then if he hires me, everytime it snows I might call out. Unreasonable thoughts won the day. I sat there and dumped hand sanitizer into my palms almost every 5 minutes. There is NO WAY that I infected anybody which is good. He said he'd call me on Friday with his final decision. He told me he hates interviewing about as much as I hate being interviewed so he's out to make this a quick decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than the few Wii minutes on Monday, I havent exercised all week - unless digging in my eyes counts. I tried to do some stretching tonight but it didnt go well. I'm tense from all this interviewing business, plus the kids fighting like animals tonight, plus the weather (cold and raining)... I think I pulled something. I hope I didnt break anything. It's ok. I have pills. OMG I have so many pills. I could open my own drug store. I've been taking blood pressure medicine since I was pregnant with my youngest. They said it'd go away once the baby was born but it didnt. So here's my list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day I take:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 blood pressure medicines. Prinivil in the mornings. Toprol at night (when I remember)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vytorin for cholesterol&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Diclofenac - an anti inflamatory for the arthritis in my back&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;zantac for the heartburn the diclofenac gives me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Flexeril - a muscle relaxer (it blocks pain signals from the nerves.... great stuff)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when the weather is bad, or I overdo something, or stand/walk for too long I have a choice between&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 bottles of Valium for spasms (one for my purse, one for home)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ultracet (doesnt work)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Soma (makes my stomach bleed)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Percocet (makes me sick)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;3 bottles of Norco (works great but makes me sick)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 bottles Lortab (my usual first choice, works reasonably well, doesnt make me sick - one bottle for my purse, one for home)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 flavors of Vicodin (sometimes works, most times doesnt)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a miracle I'm not addicted. What scares me is these things coming up on a drug test. I know that as long as I have a prescription they cant be used against me but seriously, would you hire someone who you knew uses narcotics?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/mba0269l.jpg" width="367" height="376" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so food today. I havent used all of my points. I still have 10.5 left but I'm not hungry. I had the best omlet this morning. 1/2 cup egg beaters, 1/2 cup of mushrooms, 8 slices of turkey pepperoni &amp;amp; 1/4 cup part skim mozzarella cheese. I also had a small pita. The whole thing filled me clear through lunch for only 4 points. Add 1 pt for my coffee and breakfast was good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For lunch my son brought me a grilled chicken salad. I had half of it for lunch with balsamic vinegar for 4 points and the other half for dinner for no points (I calculated the whole salad at lunchtime)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow the Verizon guy is coming to install my FIOS. I hate leaving Comcast but they gave me no choice. I hope FIOS doesnt suck :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3298824252462200532?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3298824252462200532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3298824252462200532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3298824252462200532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3298824252462200532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-hate-titles.html' title='I hate titles'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i274.photobucket.com/albums/jj242/bpolite-stuff/blog/th_mba0269l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4538397948952942409</id><published>2009-01-26T22:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:41:51.422-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2 more interviews</title><content type='html'>I have 2 more interviews set up for this week. One is tomorrow for a recruiter, the other is Wednesday with the guy I interviewed with yesterday over the phone. The recruiter sounds psyched, he is even going to try to get me more money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody answered my email today. I think that is so rude, especially when my email today specifically said that I was hesitant to consider any other offers until their decision had been made. Obviously there are other candidates or this wouldnt be taking so long. I am not the only one hanging in limbo here. It doesnt take long to click the REPLY button and type a few letters. “Sorry, the position is filled” is only 26 letters (including spaces). “We havent made a decision yet, please hang in there” is barely double that. It only took 3-6 seconds to type each sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want donuts. Donuts make waiting easier. You see it on tv cop shows all the time. They ALWAYS have coffee and donuts on stakeouts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4538397948952942409?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4538397948952942409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4538397948952942409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4538397948952942409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4538397948952942409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/2-more-interviews.html' title='2 more interviews'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4482698300446022713</id><published>2009-01-25T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:41:36.006-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the weighting game</title><content type='html'>ha ha ha… get it? the WEIGHTING game! Sometimes I kill myself :) ok so it wasnt that funny but it is the game that I’m playing today again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday is my official weigh in day. I’m not going to meetings or anything yet but I do make it a point to step on that stupid scale first thing in the morning. There’s been no change. I’ve been doing WW since Jan 9 and have only lost 3 pounds. I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong. I’m not using all of my points. At the end of the week I still have a few weekly points left, I dont pay attention to the activity points at all so they never get used either. I wish someone would hire me so I can go to WW meetings and ask someone for help (cant really afford it on unemployment). I thought about posting for advice on the WW section at 3FG but decided against it. The last thread I started ended with someone trying to start shit. I dont know if that was her intent or not but that’s how it felt. I posted my frustration with the support levels I’m getting from my kids and one lady decided (without reading it) that it was about creative uses for rat poison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367786369242813730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn41Q1jm1SI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xr9NOOyGMb8/s320/marsbar.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At that point I decided that my post count would always be low. I will respond to a other posts when I think I have something useful to add but not that many and when I do it will be brief. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway…. back on track!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So my weight sucks. I sent an email to the HR Director of that company I interviewed twice for. They said they’d call early last week and they havent. I sent her an email asking if a final decision had been made and provided an alternate number in case my phone goes out.&lt;br /&gt;I’m switching from Comcast &amp;amp; Vonage to Verizon FIOS this week. My Comcast bill was always 127.14. This month they sent me a bill for 187.90. I called them and was told my promotion was over. I’ve been a Comcast customer for 15 years, what the hell kind of promotion could I have had. They dont know but told me they dont have any other promo’s to give me. My bill is what it is and will always be that way unless I take their triple play. I dont want Comcast phone service. I dont know a single person who has it and is happy with it. I have Vonage for my phone company and I love it. Long story short… FIOS offered me a deal, Comcast would not. I told the Comcast guy what Verizon was offering and he said maybe I should take the offer. What kind of customer service is that! lol So Verizon is going to port my number from Vonage and I dont have much faith in the process. I’m afraid Vonage will release the number before Verizon is ready to install and I wont have a phone until Friday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I’m waiting for either a return email or a phone call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I’m waiting for a phone call from the guy I interviewed with on Friday. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I’m also waiting for the UPS guy with my Wii Fit. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;WAIT WAIT WEIGHT. That seems to be the theme of the week. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long one. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4482698300446022713?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4482698300446022713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4482698300446022713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4482698300446022713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4482698300446022713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/weighting-game.html' title='the weighting game'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn41Q1jm1SI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xr9NOOyGMb8/s72-c/marsbar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-41671658978596314</id><published>2009-01-24T22:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:31:08.520-04:00</updated><title type='text'>14 minutes</title><content type='html'>in 14 minutes my phone is going to ring.   I have a phone interview scheduled with a publishing company.  They need a windows admin with mac experience.  I have no idea why I sent them my resume.  It’s true that I meet 98% of their requirements.  The problem is I dont know anything about Mac’s and that bulletpoint on the job description said OS X (REQUIRED)  Its not going to matter that I can navigate/administrate/support Windows in my sleep.  It’s not going to matter that I’m certified in TCP/IP, Exchange &amp;amp; Cisco or that setting up a VPN comes as easily to me as writing my own name.   The fact that I dont even know where the power button on a Mac is will kill me.    I set myself up for failure this time and I dont know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m having one of those “what’s the point” days.  I cant let it get to me.  After this interview I am NOT going to babysit this phone again like I did yesterday.   If IFIC doesnt call me today then I know I didnt get that job.   That hurts.   Of all the interviews I have been on,  all the resumes I have sent out….  that’s the job that I wanted the most.  It’s so hard to let it go because all through BOTH interviews they made it sound as if the job was mine.   The way the Network Systems Manager kept saying “we WILL be calling you”.    The way the CIO, on our second interview, was mainly concerned with my commute and how soon I could be there if a server emergency occurred (my answer was 10 minutes btw).  The way the Senior VP/HR Director laughed and said to me “OK, well I’ve made MY decision”.  She even told me about Christmas bonus’s!!  How do you tell someone who you’re NOT going to hire how great the bonus’s are?  I mean seriously, how much more positive can an interview go?!!?  So why havent they called?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this interview is over I am going to get dressed.  I am going to get in my car and go shopping.  LOL takes a lotta balls to go shopping wihtout a job doesnt it :)  First I am going to Barnes &amp;amp; Noble to buy that book the girls are talking about on 3FG.  I’d ordered it online this morning but a little while ago I realized that I need an excuse to leave the house today so I cancelled the order.  I’m going to B&amp;amp;N to buy that book.  I might even sit in one of the comfy chairs and read a little bit of it before coming back home.  Then I am going to the grocery store to buy more WW foods.   I know that I’m paying extra for the name but it’s worth it to me to know (without measuring) how many points I am eating.  I am going to resist the urge to drive thru the McDonalds that I have to pass twice on my travels.  Maybe, just maybe I will even go to Lowes to buy some white paint.  I’ve been wanting to repaint my woodwork for months!  That might be the distraction that I need to make it through the weekend.  (hope I can do that without hurting myself)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hear my credit cards crying already&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INTERVIEW OVER:&lt;br /&gt;It wasnt as bad as I thought.   He said that although they have several Mac users,  the main thing they are concerned with is installing software and putting them on the network.  I’ve done that.  He said the most important thing is that the users feel comfortable with the person trying to fix their machines.  There was a verbal test.   I think I got an 85?  maybe?  There were some Mac questions that I obviously couldnt answer.  My main problem was that although I could visualize the steps involved,  I couldnt find the words.   When you create users on an Exchange server,  after the first 100 or so you stop thinking about it.  It becomes an automated process that you can almost do with your eyes closed.  That makes it kind of difficult to explain the steps without having an actual server in front of you.   He was very concerned with my salary requirements.  It seems that I am asking for less than what they are offering.  He feels that makes me underqualified on the surface.   I explained to him that at my last job NOBODY got a raise for 4 years.  I got one 3% raise the first year that I was there and that was it.  No raises, no bonus’s (although one year the president of the company did give us 100.00 american express gift cards and a pizza for Christmas)  Now that I’m remembering it,  it really was a shitty job  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know.  I’ll see what happens.  He said he had some more interviews to do.  Said he’d call me next week to let me know either way.   He sounds like a real anal guy to work for.   He believes in documenting every little thing.   He got mad at the previous network administrator for not writing down that he connected a laptop to the router to send an emergency email when the servers went down.   I wanted to say… hey mister?  the servers were down….  exactly who was going to read that email?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I didnt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m going shopping&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-41671658978596314?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/41671658978596314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=41671658978596314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/41671658978596314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/41671658978596314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/14-minutes.html' title='14 minutes'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6198910876027419697</id><published>2009-01-23T21:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:39:24.526-04:00</updated><title type='text'>nervous eating</title><content type='html'>that’s what I’m doing today. The thing is, I KNOW that I’m doing it but I cant stop. That’s a lie. I’m sure that I could stop if I wanted to&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4oUKHoUXI/AAAAAAAAAAs/ghBD0rloq3Y/s1600-h/explosion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 223px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367772132651061618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4oUKHoUXI/AAAAAAAAAAs/ghBD0rloq3Y/s320/explosion.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I just dont want to. I want to eat until I explode &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had that second interview last week. They told me that they would be contacting me *early next week* to let me know either way. Monday was a holiday - they were closed. Tuesday was the inauguration (not a holiday but I gave it a pass anyway). Yesterday officially ended the early part of the week and they havent called. I sat here all day yesterday and stared at the phone…. willing it to ring. But it didnt. All day again today I have stared at the phone. Everytime it rings my heart skips a beat. But it’s always my mother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have done is stare at this damned phone and eat! I had a WW bagel &amp;amp; WW cream cheese with a slice of cantelope for breakfast (5 pts). Then I had an apple (1 pt). More cantelope (2 pts worth this time). 2 slices of toasted raisin bread with raspberry jam (3 pts). My son brought me the healthiest salad on the planet for lunch. Grilled chicken, romaine lettuce, tomato, cucumbers &amp;amp; carrots - balsamic dressing on the side (4 pts). I ate every bit of that salad like the world would end if I didnt empty that tin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the salad was empty I HAD to get out of the house. I felt the walls closing in and the damned phone still refused to ring! I got in my car and went to CVS. I told myself that I needed some Dove hair moisturizer. They didnt have any but I couldnt stand the thought of going back home so I wandered the store. I bought a bag of Ruffles Sour Cream &amp;amp; Onion chips. I ate them. I bought a bag of chocolate covered pretzels. I ate them too. I KNEW what I was doing was wrong. I snuck this shit into my house. MY HOUSE and I’m sneaking food like a theif. Oh, did I mention the diet coke and Twizzlers?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ruffles are gone. The pretzels are gone. I hid the Twizzlers in the bottom drawer but I can still hear them calling to me. The phone still hasnt rung and I want more junk. There’s this hole that no matter what I stuff into it wont close. The job is just one more thing on top of a pile of other things that isnt happening. I really wanted that job too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My day started out so good. I took a shower, put on decent clothes, I did my hair AND put makeup on! I was determined that today would be a great day. And I blew it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6198910876027419697?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6198910876027419697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6198910876027419697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6198910876027419697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6198910876027419697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/nervous-eating.html' title='nervous eating'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4oUKHoUXI/AAAAAAAAAAs/ghBD0rloq3Y/s72-c/explosion.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4734594779424172610</id><published>2009-01-22T21:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:36:05.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Congratulations Mr President</title><content type='html'>I sat in front of my tv today gasping at the sight of 2 million people on the White House mall. I cried as Senator Obama took the oath of office and laughed out loud when Chief Justice Roberts forgot the words. I was amazed to see so many tears in that crowd. So much pride in our country. So much hope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody despised Bush more than I did but I even cried for him a little bit. The boo-ing and the “get the hell out” signs were totally unnecessary. The history books will not be kind to him. His intentions were good. I honestly dont believe he set out to destroy our country. I was impressed with how well he carried himself today. How graceful and sincere his congratulations was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am blessed to be here to see this. Sometimes people dont realize history is happening right before their eyes. It’s not until someone points to it later on and says “THAT was important”. I know this is important. My children know this is important. Not just because he is the first black president (although that is important in and of itself). This is important because he will change the direction this country is headed in and I believe he will make a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                            &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4nq7RkutI/AAAAAAAAAAk/U1gVbO9SqyM/s1600-h/ap_obama_oath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367771424291601106" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4nq7RkutI/AAAAAAAAAAk/U1gVbO9SqyM/s320/ap_obama_oath.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son came home from school and told me that they watched the inaguration in class. Then he asked me if things were going to get better now. “I hope so baby, I hope so”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the pundents broke down the speaches I struggled to do my brothers taxes. All afternoon he sat behind me complaining about Barak Obama. He’s getting less of a refund this year than last. He blames Obama (the man has been president for less than 3 hours yet it’s his fault my brothers refund is less). The economy is in a hole, that’s Obama’s fault too. Then he broke into this bizarre accent. I think he was trying to imitate eubonics? At that point I got very scared. As proud as I am to be an American today, I was instantly reminded that not everyone is as happy as that crowd and I were. Some people are downright angry. I pray for President Obama’s safety and the safety of his entire family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As politically incorrect as this may be “all it takes is one redneck with a gun………..” and we have a whole new history in front of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4734594779424172610?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4734594779424172610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4734594779424172610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4734594779424172610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4734594779424172610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/congratulations-mr-president.html' title='Congratulations Mr President'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4nq7RkutI/AAAAAAAAAAk/U1gVbO9SqyM/s72-c/ap_obama_oath.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-1076027412075485494</id><published>2009-01-17T21:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:33:14.962-04:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW FOOD!!</title><content type='html'>Ohhh!! I tried a new recipe tonight. I didnt know a healthy way to cook pork chops without shake &amp;amp; bake or bbq sauce. I got this off weightwatchers.com. I didnt have cider so I used apple juice. It was SOOO good!! Next time I make it with juice I leaving out the mustard, I found it overpowering. I also used sage instead of dill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pork Chop Dinner with Apple-Cider Sauce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;POINTS® Value: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Servings: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preparation Time: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;15 min&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cooking Time: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;22 min&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Level of Difficulty: &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Moderate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A delicious one-pot meal perfect for a hearty fall or winter dinner. Also terrific with sage instead of dill.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ingredients&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 pound(s) uncooked red potato(es), baby-size&lt;br /&gt;3/4 pound(s) savoy cabbage, cut into 3- to 4-inch-wide wedges&lt;br /&gt;2 tsp canola oil&lt;br /&gt;1 pound(s) lean boneless pork chop, four 4 oz chops&lt;br /&gt;2 1/2 tbsp dill, fresh, chopped, divided (plus extra for garnish)&lt;br /&gt;3/4 tsp table salt, divided&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp black pepper, freshly ground, divided&lt;br /&gt;1 medium apple(s), Gala suggested, cored and cut into 12 wedges&lt;br /&gt;1 1/4 cup(s) canned chicken broth&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup(s) apple cider&lt;br /&gt;2 tbsp all-purpose flour&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup(s) scallion(s), sliced&lt;br /&gt;1 tbsp Dijon mustard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Instructions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;*Steam potatoes in a large deep skillet until almost tender, about 6 minutes. Add cabbage wedges and steam until potatoes and cabbage are both tender, about 3 to 4 minutes more. Drain and remove potatoes and cabbage to a serving platter; cover to keep warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Heat oil in same skillet over medium-high heat. Sprinkle pork with 1 tablespoon of dill, 1/2 teaspoon of salt and 1/4 teaspoon of pepper; gently press to adhere seasonings to pork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Add pork to skillet and cook, turning once, until golden and just cooked through, about 6 to 7 minutes; remove to serving platter. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Add apples to skillet; sauté 1 minute. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together broth, cider, flour and remaining 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Add broth mixture to skillet and bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer 2 minutes. Stir in scallions; simmer until slightly thickened and apples are tender, about 1 minute. Remove from heat; whisk in mustard and remaining 1 1/2 tablespoons of dill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Lift apples with a slotted spoon onto platter; spoon sauce over top and garnish with chopped dill or dill sprigs. Yields about 1 pork chop, 3 potatoes, 1 cabbage wedge, 3 apple slices and 1/4 cup of sauce per serving. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-1076027412075485494?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/1076027412075485494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=1076027412075485494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1076027412075485494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/1076027412075485494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-food.html' title='NEW FOOD!!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-4343400168824905567</id><published>2009-01-17T20:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:27:24.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'>3 of many</title><content type='html'>Yep. I lost my first 3 pounds. I dont *officially* weigh myself again until Monday but as of yesterday I’ve lost 3 pounds :) I have to admit I was a little disappointed with that number. Now wait…. losing 3 pounds is a hell of a lot better than gaining 3 no question. But I’m reading on the forums where people are losing 10 pounds in a week and I wonder what it is that I’m doing differently, what they’re doing that’s better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(there’s that FAILURE thing again)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of that failure thing…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was my son’s 12th birthday and his father came to see him. Back in my first post here ever I briefly mentioned him. I think I said something like *just coming out of another bad relationship*. HE is that bad relationship and we’ve only been separated for a few months. He worked last night so he came late. Normally I would’ve said 11:00 was too late to come for a visit but it was his sons birthday so I made an exception. I need to detour from the story for a little background or this next part wont make sense. It’s COLD outside. Since I have no job I need to keep my expenses low. I have the heat set on 63 at all times. During the day it’s not bad but at night it’s brutal so the kids and I pile into my bedroom, close the door and hang out in there. It’s a small room and with the door closed it gets very warm in there. So he shows up at 11 and my son and I are in my room watching tv. He sits on the edge of the bed and they start talking, playing, arguing over tomorrows football game etc. Then my son goes to bed. We had all been watching a movie so it wasnt weird that HE stayed to watch the end of it. We’re trying to have a good relationship for our son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned that my back hurt. He started massaging it and well……. you know…… I went right back into that old comfort zone that is HIM. I hate him. I hate that I spent 14 years with a man who doesnt want the same things that I do. I hate that he lied to me for most of those years by making promises that he had no intention on keeping. And now I hate that I was weak and gave in AGAIN. Yes… I failed!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need therapy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-4343400168824905567?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/4343400168824905567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=4343400168824905567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4343400168824905567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/4343400168824905567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/yep.html' title='3 of many'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-5095616592276541173</id><published>2009-01-15T21:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:25:55.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a job maybe?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I had a second interview today. I think (I hope) that it went well. I really want this job. It’s perfect for me. First of all, I’m absolutely qualified for it. It’s close to home, the people seem nice, most of them have been with the company for 15 years or more. That’s the kind of job that I want. The kind my parents had. My mother worked for the same hospital for 27 years. My dad worked for the same company for 18 (until he got sick and they made him retire). This company isnt afraid of change either. They’re looking at newer technologies and if I’m hired I’ll start at the very beginning of the upgrade process. When I think of the things that I could learn!!! What an exciting time to work there!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home from the interview I realized that I’d need a whole new wardrobe. This will be the first job I have ever had that wasnt business casual and for the past 2 years I’ve worked at home in my pj’s. If they hire me they have a business attire dresscode which means shopping. More of seeing sizes like 18 and 22 flash before my eyes. The last time I went shopping and saw those numbers I wanted to drive my car off a bridge on the way home. Where did my 7’s go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know what else I realized about this possible shopping adventure? I’ll have to do it several times. Lets say I lose 3 pounds a week (2-3 is normal right?). In a month my clothes will be too big. In a month and a half a belt wont cut it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get that buying smaller clothes is a happy thing. Wasting money is not. Buying clothes that I HOPEFULLY will only fit in for a couple of weeks just seems like an insane thing to do. Want to know a secret? When that thought came into my head I actually spent a few minutes thinking that I should put off my diet. Why bother losing weight if it’s going to cause all these problems.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 290px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367768999831358306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4ldzdNS2I/AAAAAAAAAAc/xRa_A9NQWwc/s320/shop04.gif" /&gt;If there was ever a WTF moment, that was it :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-5095616592276541173?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/5095616592276541173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=5095616592276541173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5095616592276541173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/5095616592276541173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/job-maybe.html' title='a job maybe?'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4ldzdNS2I/AAAAAAAAAAc/xRa_A9NQWwc/s72-c/shop04.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3190182158617260339</id><published>2009-01-13T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:23:47.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weight Watchers</title><content type='html'>Last week I decided to stop counting calories and joined Weight Watches online.   I didnt feel like I was doing the counting right.  There was one day last week that I only had 600 calories and felt like a total failure.  I found my self thinking things like ”How could you not eat enough?…  its FOOD!  how hard can it be?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So WW has a free trial and I signed up for it.  Once I go back to work I’ll start going to meetings too.   Unfortunately I cant do both right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3190182158617260339?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3190182158617260339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3190182158617260339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3190182158617260339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3190182158617260339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/weight-watchers.html' title='Weight Watchers'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6272243905477173969</id><published>2009-01-08T21:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:22:37.529-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today was a test</title><content type='html'>And I failed miserably!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 211px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367767933922015202" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4kfwond-I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ceSU06bAn0o/s320/test.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;today I decided to consciously TRY to eat healthy. All the other days I didn’t try, I honestly didn’t even think about it. I ate what I wanted and wrote it all down. On those days I barely broke 1200 calories. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I TRIED. I paid attention to what went into my mouth, thought out my meals and wrote it all down. 1600 calories!! When I thought about it, really thought about what I was doing, I was starving all day! I snacked like the world was coming to an end. I was hungry every second of the day. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do much better when I don’t think. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;todays calories… 1629&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6272243905477173969?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6272243905477173969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6272243905477173969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6272243905477173969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6272243905477173969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/today-was-test.html' title='Today was a test'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4kfwond-I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ceSU06bAn0o/s72-c/test.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-6245219142168416083</id><published>2009-01-07T21:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:20:05.197-04:00</updated><title type='text'>1200 seems too high</title><content type='html'>I dont know what I’m doing wrong. I just cant seem to get much above 1200 calories per day. I just dont want to eat. I had to force myself to eat what little bit I did eat today. Everytime I go in the kitchen I get a mental flash of my body and I feel sick. Today, everytime I walked by the refridgerator I remembered the scale episode last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I said that I’d gotten this new fancy *measure everything* scale. I read the manual, followed the programming instructions and stepped on it. I got my weight (which is more than I thought it was…..241.5!!!) then I got an error. I spent an hour programming and reprogramming the thing to clear the error. No go. I’m thinking the stupid thing is broken. As a final test I programmed my 12 year old son as a user. It works fine!! So I googled the error and found online documentation for my scale &lt;a href="http://www.prodex-hk.com/pevr-2101.htm"&gt;http://www.prodex-hk.com/pevr-2101.htm&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;on the bottom of the page it says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;If the results of the analysis exceeds the scales LC display, then &gt;&gt;ERR&lt;&lt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s my error! I exceed the scales display capability. I dont get how since it says max weight is 395 but somehow my 241 exceeds the limit. I wanted to slit my wrists. I felt sick. I still feel sick over it. How did I not realize this was happening to me? How did I not see it? Why didnt anybody say anything!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of nobody saying anything… I went to the doctors today to get my newest MRI results. I’ve had the same primary care doctor for 15 years. He’d have to be blind not to notice that I’ve almost doubled in size. Why wont he say the words? None of my doctors will say the words and I dont get it. I just want one of them to be honest. “your back is never going to feel better unless you lose some of that weight”. Thats the truth and it’s what I want to hear. It feels like a lie of omission and if they’re lieing to me about that, what else arent they being honest about? I dont know, maybe I’m paranoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did notice that I weigh less in the mornings so that was a smiley moment. 237 this morning as opposed to 241 last night. I will never step on that thing again at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH!! and I got a call for a second interview! I really want this job. It’s a stable company (not retail) close to home, I’d be learning new things and the pay is great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;calories today: 1073&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s&lt;br /&gt;me and that scale? It’s war now! My first official mini-goal is to get that stupid thing to work for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.prodex-hk.com/pevr-2101.htm"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-6245219142168416083?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/6245219142168416083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=6245219142168416083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6245219142168416083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/6245219142168416083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/1200-seems-too-high.html' title='1200 seems too high'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-7568671592387522806</id><published>2009-01-06T21:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:16:18.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>all I want is a stupid scale!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I went to K-Mart to buy a food scale and to check out what Christmas stuff they have left (75% off now!). I was SOOO proud of myself. I walked right by the cans of popcorn! You know the ones.. with the plain, cheese and caramel popcorn in them. Oh how I wanted that popcorn. I love those popcorn cans. I wait all year for the stores to start selling them. I cant decide which one I like better - the cheddar cheese or the caramel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised to find they didnt have any kitchen scales. The salesgirl said that with everyone making their New Years resolution to lose weight they sold out of them, she suggested Home Goods. I went there next. They didnt have any either. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was at K-Mart I finally got a bathroom scale. It was on sale… 29 bucks. My mother had given me one (for some reason she had 2) but it didnt work for me. I was all happy when she gave it to me. I can watch my weight now! YAY!! Problem was I couldnt see the numbers if I was standing on it. Now watch me lie to myself…….. ready?………… The dial is too small and too far away to see. Combine that with the bad lighting in the bathroom? Yeah… that scale isnt going to work. Truth is it IS a really small dial and the lighting IS really bad in my bathroom. But we all know that’s not why I cant see it. I haven’t seen my toes in years and I’ll die before I ask someone to tell me what the reading is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4i-qQemZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rAqteFqXIu0/s1600-h/scale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 229px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367766265762847122" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4i-qQemZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rAqteFqXIu0/s320/scale.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got an excuse-free scale today. It’s a body weight, water, muscle and bone mass monitor. I don’t know if it does all of that or not. I bought it because the display comes off and hangs on the wall. I hold the display in my hands while standing on it. Cant use the lighting excuse anymore. Now if I can just figure out how to program the thing I’ll be in business. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4i-qQemZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rAqteFqXIu0/s1600-h/scale.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also bought some Slim-Fast.  I dont know it that stuff works or not but I’m REALLY not hungry in the mornings.   I figure if I at least have one of those it’s better than nothing at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After yesterdays hospital adventure and todays kitchen scale mission my back is pretty bad so I didnt exercise much.  I spent some time on my ball, mostly stretching but that’s about all I could manage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually did end up buying a kitchen scale today.  I went to K-Mart for the 10.00 jobby and ended up ordering a 30.00 one on amazon.com.  Oh well,  at least I got free shipping&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;calories today…  1207&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-7568671592387522806?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/7568671592387522806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=7568671592387522806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7568671592387522806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/7568671592387522806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/all-i-want-is-stupid-scale.html' title='all I want is a stupid scale!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Bxe7t8CpsL4/Sn4i-qQemZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rAqteFqXIu0/s72-c/scale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-56712814964093884</id><published>2009-01-05T21:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:11:46.391-04:00</updated><title type='text'>can it be a bad hair day if I didnt wash my hair?</title><content type='html'>You know how when your hair looks bad everything else seems to follow? A hairday doesnt get any worse than waking up and throwing it up in a scrunchie and forgetting about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up as I normally do. Got the kids out to school and settled in for my morning job search. I sent out a grand total of ONE resume today. YAY! If I dont get a job soon we’re all in deep doo-doo. Oops, sidetracked sorry. I finished my daily job search and started on my normal routine. Close the monster page, have some breakfast, take a shower, check the job sites again, have lunch… check the jobsites again…. you get the picture. (admit it… you’re jealous of my jetsetting lifestyle arent you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way to the kitchen I hear my son coughing. He’s 21, also unemployed but at least he’s on a path. He’s also been fighting a cold for about 2 weeks and he’s losing. So I knock on his door and open it to find him coughing up blood. Not a lot of blood but considering you’re not supposed to be coughing up ANY blood, in my opinion a little is too much. I have to fight with him to go to the hospital. He doesnt want to go. ”I’m fine”… “I have no insurance”… ”I’ll be ok”. Now I gotta be the mom. “Get your ass in the car or I’m calling an ambulance”. My oldest is a very private person, he doesnt like anybody knowing his business. Having an ambulance with his name on it pull up outside would have sent him over the edge so he gave in and went. Don’t you think for a minute that he didn’t tell everybody in that hospital that he was FORCED to go there too lol He’s also a very proud person. What happened at the hospital might just ruin him for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank GOD he only has bronchitis. They give him some antibiotics, a couple of prescriptions and send us to “THE DISCHARGE WINDOW”. What the hell is a discharge window? The door to leave the ER is right next to this discharge window but it’s locked. The guy who pushes the button to unlock it is IN the discharge window. We go up to him, he asks my sons name and tells us we have to pay a $250.00 deductible before we can leave. What?!?! Yep. He says its hospital policy, it’s a new policy. People without insurance have to pay a $250 deductible. My son told him he didnt have $250.00. He isnt working. He asked me if I had it. I’m not working either. I told him that I didn’t have $250.00. He said “we take checks and credit cards”. My son is hacking up his lungs and this asshat isn’t letting us out of here without money. I took out my checkbook, wrote a check and told him to let us the hell out of there. He says no. We have to go to the 4th floor to apply for charity care. WHAT?!?!? My kid is sick, he should go straight home to bed. Nope. We’re hostages. We have to go apply for charity care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now realize something. I’m the woman who cant walk to the corner deli and back without tears of pain streaming down my cheeks. I have to walk all over this damned hospital to find the charity care room! You had to see us. We were quite the site. My 21 year old son, coughing and spitting the blood into a tissue…. holding his crippled mother up as we wandered the hospital hallways. You would think that SOMEONE would show some compassion and get us a wheelchair. It’s a hospital for pete’s sake. They’re all over the place! Nope. They’re for patients only. We finally get there, he’s handed an application and before we can find an empty chair to sit and fill it out he’s called inside. The man behind the desk asks for his paperwork. What paperwork? We need proof of income, last 4 checkstubs or unemployment papers AND bankstatements (not computer printouts). I said to this guy….. “this is a joke right? he came for medical treatment, not to file his taxes!”. So now he HAS to go back there tomorrow with his paperwork in order to qualify for charity care. Are you kidding me!??! They cant even give him a couple of days to get better. Absolutely unbelievable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get home it’s after 4pm. I havent eaten a nything all day except the chips I got from the vending machine, my back is screaming at me in 5 different languages from the walking, my head is about to explode from the stress and the thought of cooking makes me want to cry. I cant even take a pain pill because I’m afraid I’ll get the “You’re hired” call and have to take an immediate drug test. I dont want to have to explain narcotics in my results. Not only did I order have a bag of chips for lunch at the hospital…. I ordered pizza for dinner and had 2 slices :(&lt;br /&gt;It’s only my 3rd day and I’ve fallen so far off the diet wagon it’s a miracle I didnt break something. I think I’m FINALLY going to take my shower now. Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll drown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;calories today… 617&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-56712814964093884?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/56712814964093884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=56712814964093884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/56712814964093884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/56712814964093884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/08/can-it-be-bad-hair-day-if-i-didnt-wash.html' title='can it be a bad hair day if I didnt wash my hair?'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3027733689484555167</id><published>2009-01-04T20:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:12:07.797-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sloth</title><content type='html'>sloth [slawth or, especially for 2, slohth] –noun&lt;br /&gt;1. habitual disinclination to exertion; indolence; laziness.&lt;br /&gt;2. any of several slow-moving, arboreal, tropical American edentates of the family Bradypodidae, having a long, coarse, grayish-brown coat often of a greenish cast caused by algae, and long, hooklike claws used in gripping tree branches while hanging or moving along in a habitual upside-down position.&lt;br /&gt;3. a pack or group of bears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m watching a show on the History Channel and they’re talking about the 7 Deadly Sins. There were these 2 doctors a couple of hundred years ago who thought they had the cure for sloth. One implanted monkey testicles into men, the other implanted goat glands. I’ll admit to being lazy but seriously…… monkey balls?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now they’re saying modern day sloth is a medical condition and there are cures for it. A cure for laziness. Image that!! I wonder if they have the childrens dosages figured out yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so it’s 7:00. Everybody says not to eat after 7 (or 3 hours before bedtime). Now is when the REAL hunger sets in. What is it about not being able to do something that makes you want to do it even more? If I’m going to do this then maybe I need to move my bedtime to 7:00. Then I wont need to eat! (shhhhh… dont remind me of the 3 hour thing….. I want to pretend this could actually work)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;calories today… 1308&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3027733689484555167?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3027733689484555167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3027733689484555167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3027733689484555167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3027733689484555167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/slothslawth-or-especially-for-2-slohth.html' title='Sloth'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3462985625848945938</id><published>2009-01-03T20:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:12:29.019-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So.... HI!</title><content type='html'>Someone asked on the forums if I had checked with a doctor or was doing PT. No to both. I lost my job so I have no insurance to ask a doctor anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here’s what I know….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I KNOW I’m fat. I KNOW being fat isn’t helping my back at all. I KNOW if I can lose some weight I’ll feel better. And I KNOW if I strengthen my core abdominal muscles my back will be stronger. I also KNOW that I can do this. I am finally at the point where I’m not reaching for the pain pills every couple of hours. I don’t even take them every day anymore so I know now is the time to start. I know what I can do, and I know what I cant. I have no desire to hurt myself…. my kids have been through enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an elliptical cross-trainer. My job gave it to me after my first surgery. I can do 5 pain-free minutes on it now. Please dont laugh at my 5 minutes. There was a time I couldnt do 30 seconds without collapsing to the floor. I know that 5 minutes isnt enough so I do 5 minutes a couple of times a day. I’m not sure if that’s good enough. My son says it’s not the same as doing 30 minutes at a time. I think it’s better than nothing but I could be wrong. I’m also dipping my toes into the low impact yoga/pilates pool. I intended to start that yesterday but after vaccuming the carpets I started to hurt so I didnt. I’m not chasing that *no pain - no gain* theory just yet. If I have pain, I stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not understanding this whole dieting thing either. Yesterday I started a food journal. Thats the #1 thing that everybody on 3chicks says you need to do no matter which diet plan you’re doing so I started one. I ate normally and only consumed 1265 calories. My mother says that’s too low. She says I need to eat at least 1600. So I have to force myself to eat? I was always taught if you’re not hungry DONT EAT. Now I’m confused. I’m going to give this journal a week to see what happens. Maybe I didn’t eat normally because I knew it was being recorded? That has to be it because if I normally eat between 12 and 1300 calories a day there’s no way (exercise or no) that I would be 243 pounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;calories today… 1294&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3462985625848945938?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3462985625848945938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3462985625848945938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3462985625848945938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3462985625848945938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/someone-asked-on-forums-if-i-had.html' title='So.... HI!'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22462093.post-3043821265945324608</id><published>2009-01-03T09:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T09:55:01.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>About me  (how did I get here)</title><content type='html'>I am 44 years old and the mother of 3 incredible young men. I've been divorced for 14 years - 13 of those years were spent with another *wrong man*. As of Thanksgiving I am completely single and looking forward to the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow ALL of this snuck up on me. Everybody asks how this happened. Truth is I don't know. There was no car accident, no fall that I can remember. There is no single incident in my life that I can point to and say *there!... that's when it started*. Unless I fell and hit my head in that same fall? I don't know. I just remember waking up one day and my back hurt. Over time it hurt more and more. One day I walked into the doctors office for a blood pressure check and prescription refill and he (the doctor) asked why I couldn't stand up straight. I didn't know so he sent me for an MRI. The MRI showed a couple of herniated disks and a bunch of other stuff... degenerative disk disease, acute osteoarthritis, hypertrophy of something or other, prominent stenosis to..... who cares anymore. Everybody these days has some sort of disk disease, nothing to worry about he says. He sent me off to PT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PT didn't help. I think it made things worse but what do I know. He then sent me to an orthopedist who recommended epidurals. I wasn't having any of that. All 3 of my kids were born by emergency C-Section and I had epidurals with all of them. They all ended up being done under general anesthesia because the epidurals didn't take. 1 - 2- 3 - 4 sticks with that needle did nothing. Now here I was, years later with bad disks in exactly the same area they were poking in? No! Epidurals broke my back. There was no way they could fix it! (can you say stubborn?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to my primary who convinced me that epidurals were the way to go. He pointed out that the epidurals he wanted me to have were different than the kind they use for birthin babies and that maybe, just maybe the reason they didn't take was because there were problems there to begin with. Who know. It made sense in my non-medical head. 6 months of those (twice a month) and I still couldn't stand up straight. In fact, I was much worse now. I couldn't stand up at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was explained to me that each nerve in your body has a certain amount of this chemical in it. If the nerve is pinched it starts emitting this chemical that tells your brain *HEY! I'm HURTING HERE!*. If that nerve stays pinched it freezes. It locks up and (for lack of medical terminology) it becomes paralyzed. I had a bunch of pinched nerves so when they paralyzed...... I fell. I would fall walking from the living room to the bathroom. I would fall walking up the steps to my house. I would fall standing at the sink doing dishes. I'd fall in the grocery store and at work too. Anytime I spent too much time on my feet I hit the ground. My heart breaks when I think about how many times my kids came home and found me on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was around this time that my job moved my office to my home and my doctor recommended surgery. I had a &lt;a title="microdiscectomy" href="http://www.spine-health.com/treatment/back-surgery/microdiscectomy-microdecompression-spine-surgery" target="_blank"&gt;microdiscectomy&lt;/a&gt; on May 8, 2007. That stopped the falling but the pain in my back was still severe. The surgeon sent me back to PT which again did nothing for the pain. He tells me my only other option is another surgery. I had &lt;a title="spinal fusion" href="http://www.spine-health.com/video/spine-fusion-surgery-video" target="_blank"&gt;spinal fusion &lt;/a&gt;on October 2, 2007. When I woke from the surgery my entire right leg was paralyzed they still dont know why it happened or why it hasnt returned to normal. Sometime in mid-November the surgeon went back in to remove some scar tissue that he believed was causing the problem. For those of you not keeping score... thats 3 surgeries in one year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of today I have 70% usage and 40% feeling in that leg. One doctor told me it could take as much as 5 years to return to normal. Another doctor told me to get used to it, it's never going to change. I don't care anymore. It gets me all the good parking spots at the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In February of 2008 I started having epidurals for pain again. Twice a week every month for I dont remember, 4 or 5 months. The doctors over there suggested that I have &lt;a title="Radiofrequency Neurotomy" href="http://www.spine-health.com/treatment/injections/radiofrequency-neurotomy-facet-and-sacroiliac-joint-pain" target="_blank"&gt;radiofrequency neurotomy&lt;/a&gt;. He told me that I would need the procedure done twice. Once on the left side, once on the right. In June (or was it July?) I had it done on the right side first. The insurance company refused to pay for another procedure on the left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During all of this time I gained 60 pounds. Now before jumping to any cheesecake conclusions I know that some of that fat came from quitting smoking. I smoked a pack a day every day for 33 years. The surgeon told me that my fusion had no chance of success unless I quit. I don't know... he fed me some nonsense about nicotine hindering the fusion process. True or not I wasn't taking any chances. I quit smoking on October 1st 2007. I started again in March 08 then quit again when my kids decided to complain in May. I haven't had a cigarette since May 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I have been through all of this bullshit I still hurt. I hurt if I sit too long. I hurt if I stand too long. One day I decided that I was superwoman and that I could do anything. We needed milk and there's a deli right on the corner. Nobody was home and I wanted coffee so yeah.... I decided I could walk my big ass down the street for milk. I made it TO the deli. I couldn't make it home. My neighbor came outside, found me on the sidewalk and brought me home in my wheelchair. Superwoman can walk, just not too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came to the conclusion that since I wasn't any better all those doctors were quacks! So I went to see another one. He said that I'd been &lt;strong&gt;*over operated on*&lt;/strong&gt; and that there was nothing more that could be done. He handed me yet another prescription for Vicodin and sent me on my way. I REFUSE to believe a word he said!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my job on my 44th birthday October 30. The company filed for bankruptcy (Thanks George!) and laid off 80% of their corporate staff so I had to stop the epidurals. I was in a car accident on November 5th and finally got the nerve to kick a HUGE pain in the ass out of my life on November 23rd. The holidays are over and I want to start my life again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of those rambling paragraphs are &lt;strong&gt;reasons&lt;/strong&gt; for being overweight. They will not be &lt;strong&gt;excuses&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009 my year to be happy. My year to be fit. My year to find ME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to my journey. Buckle your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy ride&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22462093-3043821265945324608?l=in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/feeds/3043821265945324608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22462093&amp;postID=3043821265945324608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3043821265945324608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22462093/posts/default/3043821265945324608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://in-here-somewhere.blogspot.com/2009/01/about-me-how-did-i-get-here.html' title='About me  (how did I get here)'/><author><name>Twice</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
