<?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-6420546361774253693</id><updated>2011-07-08T06:28:09.077-05:00</updated><category term='cooking'/><category term='moving'/><category term='hobbies'/><category term='media'/><category term='technology'/><category term='resolutions'/><category term='academy awards'/><category term='thrifting'/><category term='movies'/><category term='books'/><category term='Minneapolis'/><category term='Natalie Dee'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='retail'/><category term='Daylight Savings Time'/><category term='favorite authors'/><category term='screenplay'/><category term='advertising'/><category term='art'/><category term='my sanity'/><category term='America'/><category term='Furniture Liquidation Sale'/><category term='survey'/><category term='Chicago'/><category term='society'/><category term='iPod'/><category term='celebrities'/><category term='my favorite coat'/><category term='family'/><category term='my blog'/><category term='Project Runway'/><category term='Holidays'/><category term='my Dad&apos;s lectures'/><category term='life moving'/><category term='traditions'/><category term='snack food'/><category term='politics'/><category term='music'/><category term='Earth Day'/><category term='fall'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='television'/><category term='American Idol'/><category term='life'/><category term='my mom'/><category term='Gopher Basketball'/><category term='a good deal'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='writing'/><category term='my birthday'/><title type='text'>The C-Z Cocktail</title><subtitle type='html'>(The Blog Formerly Known as "Countdown to 30" and "30 is the New Twenty")</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>222</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2598509574239204980</id><published>2009-09-22T20:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T21:00:28.298-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Bye, Bye C-Z Cocktail, Hello Recessionista 4 Life</title><content type='html'>I have not been happy with this blog for quite a while.  This is evident in my lack of posts.  I've been thinking about what I am really passionate about and I came to the conclusion that it is fashion and writing.  I am leaving the C-Z Cocktail for good, but never fear, I have started a new blog at &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/shellfash.blogspot.com"&gt;shellfash.blogspot.com.&lt;/a&gt;  This new blog is all about fashion and how to make the most out of a limited fashion budget.   Don't worry, I'll still have my edge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, "C-Z Cocktail, "30 is the new 20" and "Countdown to 30"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2598509574239204980?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2598509574239204980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2598509574239204980&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2598509574239204980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2598509574239204980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/09/bye-bye-c-z-cocktail-hello.html' title='Bye, Bye C-Z Cocktail, Hello Recessionista 4 Life'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-509968351873474739</id><published>2009-09-22T10:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T10:41:11.191-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Bad Blogger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Srjvcd_xH_I/AAAAAAAAAOg/83B2dTnLHj0/s1600-h/Labor+Day+Weekend+09+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384316626888892402" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Srjvcd_xH_I/AAAAAAAAAOg/83B2dTnLHj0/s320/Labor+Day+Weekend+09+008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have to admit, I have been a horrible blogger, lately. Not quite sure why. Maybe it's just summer and being busy, but I am going to try to be better about blogging. I really don't have an excuse. I am contemplating taking this blog in a completely different direction. We'll see. I am hoping the change of seasons inspires me. Happy Fall! Break out your sweaters and boots!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-509968351873474739?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/509968351873474739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=509968351873474739&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/509968351873474739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/509968351873474739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/09/bad-blogger.html' title='Bad Blogger'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Srjvcd_xH_I/AAAAAAAAAOg/83B2dTnLHj0/s72-c/Labor+Day+Weekend+09+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1301473778946059128</id><published>2009-08-28T16:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T16:36:39.664-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Who Knew the Post Office Could be so Fun?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other day I had to go to the Post Office to mail a package.  I made sure to avoid my neighborhood Post Office because it is like going to a zoo.  There's always a long line, people in line are crabby, it's understaffed, and the workers move just as slow as they please.  And why should they move faster? The Post Office pretty much has a monopoly on mailing things by parcel post. I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;n order to keep my sanity,   I went to the one in the basement of the John Hancock building.  I feel like it's one of the city's best kept secrets; no one knows it's there.  Plus, it's close to work.  The line was really short: two people in line, two people at the counter.  I figured I'd be in and out in five minutes.  Think again.  Try 25 minutes.  The customer at the counter was mailing eight large boxes that he hadn't taken the time to tape up or address prior to going to the post office.  The Postal worker didn't care.  One by one, the man taped the boxes and addressed them.  Each time the Postal worker had to grab him a piece of paper to write the address on.  He had to look up addresses and mess with the packaging tape.  While he was doing this, a  line of ten deep had formed.  I have to admit, for the first 30 seconds of this scene, I was mad, but I quickly got over it and found the entire thing hilarious.  The people behind me failed to see the humor.  While Mr. Unprepared taped up boxes, the other customer  had about 15 little packages she had to mail.  At this point, the woman behind me yelled, "Can't you have him step to the side and finish that? It's taking forever!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;She read my mind.  I don't like to yell those things out, since I have sympathy for anyone working with the public.  At work on a daily basis, I have customers telling me to do my job and I hate it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The Postal worker said, "No, I can't.  I've already got him in the system.  I can't end it now."  The&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; women sighed and muttered,  "I didn't know that not wrapping packages was an option.  I am going to do that next time. "  I am sure she will.  I imagined her bringing in a huge shopping bag full of bubble wrap, gift wrap, tape, ribbon, and an extremely breakable gift.  She would take up an hours worth of time and think nothing of the line.  Sort of like Mr. Unprepared.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  After the woman with 15 packages was done, an old women was buying three stamps and checking on a package she mailed in 1984 stepped up to the counter.    The clerk was very patient with her  and helped her the best she could.  The line was not pleased.  I, on the other hand, was laughing at how funny this situation was.  It was better than watching a sitcom.  Finally, it was my turn.  I almost didn't want the fun to end.  As I was leaving,  I heard the Postal worker tell Mr. Unprepared that she was going on a break after she was done with him.  How I wished I could've hung around to see the looks on the people's faces as she put up her close sign. I am sure a riot ensued.   It would've been priceless. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1301473778946059128?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1301473778946059128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1301473778946059128&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1301473778946059128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1301473778946059128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/08/who-knew-post-office-could-be-so-fun.html' title='Who Knew the Post Office Could be so Fun?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1022905917016345505</id><published>2009-08-28T00:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T01:26:30.076-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>How Not to Win a Girl Over</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tonight I was waiting at the bus stop after work when an early twenty something couple walked over.  I have to admit that I love to ease drop on strangers' conversations.  It's my entertainment while I wait for my bus to arrive.   From the second the guy opened his mouth, I knew I was in for quite the interesting convo.  It was so engaging, I almost wish I had a tape recorder or a notebook to record it.  From start to finish, it was pure comic gold.  Here are the highlights: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: I've been in that store (Ralph Lauren).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girl:  Oh, really? That's cool.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Seriously, does he think that'll win her over? Last time I checked, RL is a public place and everyone can go in there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: Yeah, I bought a petticoat.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girl: Huh? I've never heard of that.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: yeah, It's the guy version of a pea coat.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am seriously not making this up! I don't think I could.  Last time I checked a petticoat is a poofy, hoop skirt worn by women underneath a skirt.  This guy is soooo brill! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girl: Hmmm.... I think it's just called a pea coat.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: No, it's a petticoat.  Girl's wear pea coats.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This went on and on for about three minutes.  Then, he pulled out the most amazing store to shop at for guys.  I was soooo impressed: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: Yeah, for a while I was really torn between RL and Express.  But, Express won out.  RL is kind of old looking.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This was very appalling to me.  Ralph Lauren is timeless.  Express is overpriced and trendy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: Yeah, I have to just wear one label at a time.  I don't understand how someone can wear an Aero shirt, AE  pants, and an RL jacket.   I am wearing an Express shirt, jacket, and jeans.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Really? I don't understand how someone can go into  Aero or AE, let alone buy clothes from there.  During all this, the girl just giggled.  Wow.  I had a really hard time not saying something.  Oooh! You're such a cool guy for shopping at Express.  OMG! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Finally, the girl got a word in: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girl: Three drinks was perfect for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: What? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girl: Yeah, I'm a light weight. Three drinks and a shot is about all I can handle.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: That's weak.   I bet you could drink more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Girl: No, I don't really like to.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To the girl: wow.  I am so impressed that you know your limits.  A guy should respect that.   To the guy, you are such a dumb ass.  Which, he proved by this story: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: Yeah, it was such a totally crazy night.  I don't remember what happened.  I ended up at my sister sorority's house and it was this girl's 19th birthday.  I woke up the next morning in the house and didn't know what happened the night before.  It was crazy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yes, that's a great way to win over a girl.  She really wants to hear about your sorority conquests.   The guy continued to dig himself  deeper into a hole: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Guy: Yeah, one time my bro got really drunk.  He went to take a shower to sober up and twenty minutes later, I went in there and he was sitting Indian style with his head in his lap and the shower going.  I knew he was faking it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Uh.... hello? I'm pretty sure he passed out.  And I hate the word "bro." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At this point, the bus showed up and I didn't have to listen to the guy's random monologue of stupidity.  Part of me really wanted to intervene and tell the girl that this guy isn't worth it! He's a tool.  A dumb frat boy.  Not once did he ask the girl a question.  It was just this weird conversation (if you could call it that) based on really superficial things.   I couldn't understand why this girl wanted to listen to such silly things.  If it had been me, I would've been out of there when he thought a petticoat was a pea coat.  It boggles my mind.  The girl struck me as the free spirited girl.  Maybe she was just naive.  Whatever the case,  I wouldn't have tolerated it.  At all.  I wanted to shake the girl.  She could do so much better than  this douche bag frat boy.  He's not a great catch. &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I really wanted to talk to this girl in an aside a la Woody Allen and knock some sense into her.    I think back to my early twenties, I really hope I was smarter than this.   I think I was.  Maybe I'm just too cynical, but why would you want to put up with a guy like that? It's just not worth it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1022905917016345505?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1022905917016345505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1022905917016345505&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1022905917016345505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1022905917016345505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/08/how-not-to-win-girl-over.html' title='How Not to Win a Girl Over'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-7328817821861949209</id><published>2009-08-23T18:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T18:35:00.859-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snack food'/><title type='text'>Wireless and Munchies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am sitting outside in my backyard enjoying the wonderful weather (it's barely 70) and more importantly enjoying the fact that I am on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Interwebs&lt;/span&gt; from my backyard!! Woo-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;! And I am connected my network.  Even better.   I had forgotten what it was like to actually use my laptop for it's intended purpose: being mobile.  For the past couple of months, I had to keep it connected to the cord 'cause it wasn't wireless.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;.  Enough computer chatter.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Lately, I've been starting to notice that I have horrible eating habits.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, maybe not horrible, but they are pretty bad.  I don't eat an entire bag of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mc&lt;/span&gt; Donald's cheeseburgers  (the thought of that is so no appealing) and I rarely eat fast food.  What are my downfalls? The vending machine at work and ice cream.  The vending machine at work has Munchies and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Chilli&lt;/span&gt; Cheese &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Fritos&lt;/span&gt;.  And they are very reasonably priced at 60 cents.  It started as a once a week thing, a treat, if you will, and now I find myself having  them a couple of times a week.  This is not healthy.  I tried bringing a can of nuts for a snack, but there were days where I talked myself into Munchies.  For those of you who haven't had Munchies, you should try them.  It's a mix of Cheddar &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sunchips&lt;/span&gt;, Nacho Cheese Doritos,  and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Rold&lt;/span&gt; Gold Pretzels.  Yum.  But, addicting.   Actually, don't try them, or you'll be hooked! I am going cold turkey on the vending machine.  I guess cold turkey on all junk food.  I also really love potato chips.  I don't need to have those with my sandwich.  The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sammie&lt;/span&gt; should be enough.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As for ice cream, I love it.  It is my favorite treat ever.  I blame my family for this.  We always had ice cream in the house and had it several times a week.  Lately, I've had too many late night ice cream treats.  Actually, I am going to try to not eat after 10 pm.  That is another downfall.  I work weird hours (which I should be used to by now) and sometimes when I close, I'll come home and eat half the fridge (or I feel like I do).  Bottom line is I am 31 years old and cannot eat like I could when I was 25.  Back then, I could eat anything and not gain an ounce.  Not anymore.  I don't need to loose a lot of weight, probably 5-10.  But eating better would make me healthier and have more energy.  Munchies do not give me energy, they really slow me down.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-7328817821861949209?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/7328817821861949209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=7328817821861949209&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7328817821861949209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7328817821861949209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/08/wireless-and-munchies.html' title='Wireless and Munchies'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-7298245816453410646</id><published>2009-08-22T00:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T00:46:48.826-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iPod'/><title type='text'>When Fate Takes Over My iPod</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today on my bus ride to work, I was listening to my iPod, like I usually do, when fate took over the shuffle.  Right in a row I heard "Not Ready to Make Nice" by the Dixie Chicks, "Stronger" by Kanye West. and "Black Swan" by Thom Yorke.  To most people, this might just seem like a really eclectic mix of music, but for me these songs were my anthems from last summer.  I listened to them constantly.  I would sit in my car with the windows rolled down listening to "Black Swan" on repeat.  It was pep up song before I went into work.  Ok, I know.  Thom Yorke as a pep song? It worked for me, though.   I was in a really bad place with my job.  I felt trapped and these songs brought me comfort.  It was odd today how they just popped up in a row on my iPod.  I was instantly transported back to last summer and it was like I felt the awful feelings all over again.   I felt myself welling with tears, but half way through "Stronger," they stopped.  I was feeling really happy.  Impressed about where I am a year later.  Yeah, I  still have bad days, but they  are not every day.  I don't take my work home with me like I used to back in Minneapolis.   Baby steps. It feels good.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-7298245816453410646?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/7298245816453410646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=7298245816453410646&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7298245816453410646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7298245816453410646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-fate-takes-over-my-ipod.html' title='When Fate Takes Over My iPod'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6046387931879610983</id><published>2009-08-04T15:38:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T19:52:04.333-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>My Battle with Parallel Parking</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Parallel parking and I have been enemies for the past fourteen years.   We don't generally get along.  Parallel parking frustrates me  and gives me horrible headaches.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I guess I should start at the beginning of our long standing hatred.  I was sixteen and my dad was teaching me how to drive (I could write a novel on that experience).  I kept asking him when was he going to show how to parallel park and he kept making up excuses.  When we finally got around to it, I was not allowed to practice it on an actual street with real cars.  My dad was nervous that I would hit another car, so we went over to the high school parking lot.  The first time we went, my dad had me envision two  imaginary cars parked on either side of the space. This ended in disaster.  I ended up in a huge argument with my dad about the imaginary cars that I couldn't see.  I couldn't  see how this was helpful.  Maybe for mimes, but not for me.  I needed something real, like actual cars.  We tried it again a couple of days later, this time using the  light poles in the high school parking lot as the pretend cars.  This ended with equally bad results.  In driver's ed, I was embarrassed every time we practiced parallel parking  because I was the worst at it.  I finally persuaded my dad to let me practice with real cars, well sort of.  His new version involved  my mom driving her car over, too, so we could use her car as an actual car! The other car was two construction cones (to this day, I have no idea where my dad found those). This attempt was better than the others, but would've went more smoothly had my dad not have been so paranoid that I would hit my mom's car.   I somehow managed to parallel park well enough to get my driver's license.  Or perhaps word had spread that my dad used some ridiculous teaching methods for parallel parking  and the DMV took pity on me.  Whatever the case, f&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;or the next fourteen years, I avoided Parallel Parking at all costs.  I spent hours circling neighborhoods looking for a parking spot that didn't require parallel parking.   When I did attempt it, I felt foolish and often found myself very angry.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Recently, though, I decided I needed to stop being afraid of parallel parking.  It has become a little ridiculous to be driving in circles looking for the perfect parking spot.   It's quite silly actually.  My new plan is to look for a situation to parallel park, instead of the easy spot.  Today I managed to parallel park in a small spot in one try.  It can be done.  With real cars and no damage to other cars.  Maybe parallel parking and I can be friends.  Or at least not enemies.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6046387931879610983?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6046387931879610983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6046387931879610983&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6046387931879610983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6046387931879610983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-battle-with-parallel-parking.html' title='My Battle with Parallel Parking'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1297552345017847581</id><published>2009-07-19T11:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T12:40:14.851-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><title type='text'>The Rachel Ray Cooking Debacle of '08: Or How I Learned Not to be a Slave to Recipes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I used to be a big fan of Rachel Ray.  Let me emphasize used to be.  Not anymore.  What I liked about her was how she cooked very simple meals that anyone could make and you could make them in a short amount of time, too.  I thought it was cool how she wasn't a professional cook and seemed to have come out of no where to have her own show on the Food Network and her own syndicated talk show.  I thought of her as a modern day Martha Stewart.  That is, before I attempted one of her recipes.  She ain't no Martha.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was watching her one day  on the "Today Show" and she made a  baked white pasta dish.  It looked so easy and combined some of my favorite foods: spinach, mushrooms, garlic and pasta.  I decided that  I would cook this amazing dinner.  I didn't copy the recipe down while watching, so I stopped by Border's and copied it out of her new cookbook.  Yeah,  I admit, that's a bit ghetto,  but I was not about to spend $30 on her cookbook (at the time I didn't have Internet at home and this seemed like a simpler solution).  As I wrote down the recipe, I was a bit puzzled at some of the quantities.  Two pounds of spinach?  Six cups of Mozzarella cheese?  Two cups of Parmesan  cheese?  It seemed like a lot to me, but I figured she has to know what she is doing.  I am a mere novice in the world of cooking.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After a trip to the grocery store and $30 later (What? She said this was a cheap meal!), I was ready to cook.  The meal was supposed to only take me 30 minutes to prepare.  I spent 30 minutes chopping up spinach and the entire clove of garlic.   I actually only used a pound and a half of spinach.  The colander was over flowing with spinach.  Anymore just seemed like too much.  I made the sauce, an easy white sauce, that ended up being a bit on the runny side.   I don't know how, I followed her recipe perfectly.  I decided to move on to the pasta part.   Another 30 minutes passed as I sauteed the garlic, onions and mushrooms  and wilted the spinach.  Next I broke up the no bake lasagna noodles and threw them into my giant skillet.  Another plus of this recipe is you only use one skillet. Amazing.   I poured my runny sauce onto the pasta and dumped all of the cheese on top.  Something didn't seem right.  The ratios seemed way off, but I put the skillet into the oven for another 30 minutes.   In the process of taking the skillet out of the oven, I managed to burn my hand badly.  My own stupidity, of course.  I grabbed the metal handle  without a pot holder.  Damn you, Rachel Ray! I ran my hand in cold water and cried.  I felt like a cooking failure and possibly might have a severe burn, all because of Rachel Ray and her ridiculous recipe.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At this point, I had wasted 90 minutes cooking an "easy" pasta bake.  I had feelings of  hate building up for Rachel Ray and her perkiness and too tight tops.   I was tired and my hand really burned.  I felt like one of Oprah's fans who thought that &lt;em&gt;Beloved&lt;/em&gt; would be an "easy" read.   I was hoping that it would be a wonderful meal.  That would be the one saving grace for the meal.  It wasn't.  Due to the massive quantities of dairy, it was extremely rich.  Not in a good way either.  With every bite, there was a half a pound of spinach, cheese, and garlic.  It was not delish.   It was edible and just ok.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All was not lost. I swore to myself that I would never, ever make a Rachel Ray meal again.  It was not as simple and fast as she made it seem.   I also learned that sometimes you need to go with your gut and not use massive quantities of spinach because the recipe says so.  After this incident, I have been very leery of recipes.  In fact, I decided to make my own pasta (not using a giant skillet) bake without a recipe.  It turned out much better than Rachel's, took a shorter amount of time to prepare, and was a lot cheaper.  For the cost of Rachel's pasta bake, I can make three my way.   Take that, Thirty Minute Meal Queen!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1297552345017847581?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1297552345017847581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1297552345017847581&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1297552345017847581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1297552345017847581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/07/rachel-ray-cooking-debacle-of-08-or-how.html' title='The Rachel Ray Cooking Debacle of &apos;08: Or How I Learned Not to be a Slave to Recipes'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6200969160271971684</id><published>2009-07-13T23:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T00:14:29.382-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Minneapolis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thrifting'/><title type='text'>Summer Vacation Recessionista Style</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlwLFd4Wf0I/AAAAAAAAAOY/eEVOGWN1G7I/s1600-h/Stone+Arch+Bridge+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358169845212282690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlwLFd4Wf0I/AAAAAAAAAOY/eEVOGWN1G7I/s320/Stone+Arch+Bridge+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlwKpGaD2AI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/nq4Y_6rb_UQ/s1600-h/Stone+Arch+Bridge+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Next weekend I'm mini road tripping back to Minneapolis for my summer vacay. Exotic, I know. I am really excited. I'm going to see my grandparents for a couple of days and my friend, Christine. I haven't been back to Minnesota in six months. It will be good to see my grandparents. My grandpa recently had a pacemaker put in and is doing pretty good. I am hoping to help them out. If they'll let me. They never do. They are really independent (and in their 80's) and about the only person they let do anything for them is my dad. My dad doesn 't mess around and for some reason, they really listen to him (more than I do). Christine and I are planning on going to one of my favorite places in Minneapolis, Elsie's. They have the best waffle fries ever and bowling. The perfect combo. I am hoping to go to the Unique Thrift store in NE, too. It is my favorite thrift store. They have them in Chicago, too, But, in Minnesota there's no tax on clothes! Woo-hoo. I am really hoping to avoid going to the Mall of America, aka the Black Hole of Death. It sucks the life out of me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I feel like I am ready for another vacation. I know I just had a mini one for my birthday, but I am having a hard time dealing with tourists from Iowa and whiny children with American Girl dolls at work. I know, I know. I am a seasoned retail veteran and should be immune to stupid customers. Afterall, I worked at the Mall of America for three years of a perpetual white trash fest. My new store is not as bad as MOA, but my sanity is hanging by a string. Hopefully, a long weekend will do the trick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am not at the same level of craziness as MOA, and I remind myself of this on a daily basis, Towards the end of my tenure at MOA, I had to sit in my car and listen to music to pump myself up to enter the mall. Thom Yorke's solo album, "The Eraser" was my CD of choice.  I would roll down my windows and listen to "Black Swan" on repeat.  The stares I got from the tourists, made me chuckle.  Most of the people would hurry past and grab childrens' hands.  What was the crazy girl doing?   Some days not even the music would do the trick, then I resorted to a pep talk a la Stuart Smalley. Other days a coffee from Starbucks helped.  I developed an addiction to Chili Cheese Fritos.   Looking back on this, it's hilarious, but at the time it was quite painful.  I was really angry.  I am not even close to that level and wisely schedule more days off more frequently.   It keeps my sanity in check.  Minnesota, home of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox, here I come! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/6420546361774253693-6200969160271971684?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6200969160271971684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6200969160271971684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6200969160271971684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6200969160271971684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-vacation-recessionista-style.html' title='Summer Vacation Recessionista Style'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlwLFd4Wf0I/AAAAAAAAAOY/eEVOGWN1G7I/s72-c/Stone+Arch+Bridge+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6749711009268068494</id><published>2009-07-08T13:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T13:22:21.131-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='resolutions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>The MS Read-a-thon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have to admit, I picked up a horrible habit in college: speed reading through books.   I don't know how to simply read at a leisurely pace.  I still whip through books at lightening speed and in the process do not enjoy the book and at times miss important details.  It's a habit I am determined to break.  Back in college, this was almost a necessity.  I took full course loads of 16-18 credits every semester and being an English major meant crazy amounts of reading.  It wasn't uncommon for me to read 150 pages a night  for &lt;em&gt;one class&lt;/em&gt;.  I forgot to mention that I am and always will be a big procrastinator.   That probably didn't help.   After college, I had a hard time reading for enjoyment.  It took me about three years to actually read for fun.  Then, I started Grad. school and the speed reading started up again.  I have a hard time doing book clubs because I slip back into my old mode of speed reading and procrastinating.    It's time to break the cycle.  No one cares that I can read a three hundred page book in two days.  I am not eight years old reading eight books a month for Book-IT (I had to get my cheese personal pan pizza!)  I am not participating in a summer reading program where I read 120 books in a summer (true story).   I am going to stop this.  I'd like to read for fun and take my time.  It isn't the MS Read-a-thon.  With that in mind, I am starting my own summer book club a la Oprah.   First up, &lt;em&gt;A Prayer For Owen Meany&lt;/em&gt; by John Irving.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6749711009268068494?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6749711009268068494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6749711009268068494&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6749711009268068494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6749711009268068494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/07/ms-read-thon.html' title='The MS Read-a-thon'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-634414837431521331</id><published>2009-07-07T09:57:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T10:54:53.020-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Dad&apos;s lectures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>The Death Wand</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNsCDTCFsI/AAAAAAAAAOI/P4EHcKX1CbQ/s1600-h/31st+Birthday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355743164374324930" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNsCDTCFsI/AAAAAAAAAOI/P4EHcKX1CbQ/s320/31st+Birthday.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My dad has always been a big supporter of safety. As a kid, my dad had a huge list of items/ activities that might end in loss of limbs or a lawsuit. These included sparklers, home pyrotechnics displays, swimming pools (in his backyard), trampolines, pogo sticks, firearms, skate boards, powder puff football, and pumpkin carving with sharp knives. When I was a teenager, he became obsessed with concert safety and fires. After the Great White fire fiasco, my dad was always asking me about my concert going activities and if I learned where the fire exits were located at the venues. Mosh pits were also a frequent inquiry. He wanted to make sure I wasn't a part of them at shows. He was very concerned with the ventilation systems at venues, as well.  His Fourth of July fireworks safety lectures are legendary and can be summed up with "leave the fireworks to the professionals. Don't mess around with that crap!" To this very day, I don't know how to operate a chipper shredder or a snow blower because they are dangerous. I had to wait until I was 12 to learn how to operate the riding lawn mower. That was a huge ordeal with lots of lecturing on safety and using the lawn mower only under his supervision until I was 14. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My dad gave me has trusty Weber grill because "he doesn't want to mess around with that" anymore. There was no fire safety lecture or anything. In fact, he bought me an electric fire starter, so I wouldn't have to use lighter fluid. I thought nothing of the electric fire starter because my dad and my grandpa  have used them since the beginning of time. I just assumed they had to be safe, since my dad is Captain Safety. My friend, Steve read the back of the package and discovered that the electric fire starter, aka the Execution Wand or Death Wand heats up to &lt;strong&gt;1000&lt;/strong&gt; degrees Fahrenheit! That doesn't sound very safe. I was shocked that my dad would use something like that. On top of it, you can't leave it in the grill for longer than 10 minutes because the Death Wand will melt and might cause an explosion. Yikes! I want nothing to do with it. Where do you put the Execution Wand when you remove it from the grill? On the grass or on the concrete or a plastic patio chair or back in the house? Not to mention we would have to run an extension cord from inside the house to the backyard. I could just see my backyard  engulfed in flames or someone (probably me) would trip on the Death Wand and take off a layer of skin or lose a foot. Not a good idea. I think I'll stick with lighter fluid and matches. That is at least self contained and doesn't heat up to hell-like temperatures. The only way I would go near the Execution Wand is with a hazmat suit and four Ove-gloves on my hands. It's just not a good idea. The packaging had a warning to keep it away from children. Only kids? How about everyone? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I think my Dad should have to undergo some safety class after using something as dangerous as the Death Wand. Maybe next year for the 4th of July, I'll buy my dad some fireworks, so he can put on his own display. After all, that can't be as hazardous as the Execution Wand. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-634414837431521331?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/634414837431521331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=634414837431521331&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/634414837431521331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/634414837431521331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/07/death-wand.html' title='The Death Wand'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNsCDTCFsI/AAAAAAAAAOI/P4EHcKX1CbQ/s72-c/31st+Birthday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-4490986828385305776</id><published>2009-07-03T19:32:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T13:16:40.413-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Bob and Willie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Sk6vt3C_iZI/AAAAAAAAANg/W3eoreNDGac/s1600-h/bob.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 174px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354410209395575186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Sk6vt3C_iZI/AAAAAAAAANg/W3eoreNDGac/s320/bob.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The Marcus Amphitheater before the show (Taken from the &lt;em&gt;Milwaukee Journal Sentinel&lt;/em&gt;). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For my dad's Father's Day and Birthday present, I got us tickets to Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson at Summerfest in Milwaukee. What made the concert even cooler was my dad and I saw Bob Dylan ten years ago almost to the date for my 21st birthday. Let me just say, that this concert was even better than ten years ago. Bob still has a good voice, despite what others had told me. I heard his voice was shot, but that wasn't the case this past Wednesday. As for Willie, I really didn't know what to expect. I admit that I am more of a Bob fan than a Willie fan. The concert was absolutely amazing from start to finish. I think it has to be one of the best concerts I've ever been to. How could it not be with two of the biggest musical legends of all time performing? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Willie performed first. I was really shocked that he started promptly at 7:30. He played non-stop for the next hour. His voice still sounds the same and he has an incredible amount for energy for someone in their mid seventies. He played all of his hits: "Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys, "Georgia on my Mind," "On the Road Again," "Whiskey River" and "The City of New Orleans." It was classic Willie wearing a bandanna, braid, black t-shirt, and jeans. He is an amazing performer. The musicians he had backing him were awesome, too. I was really impressed with how laid-back and himself Willie was. He really looked like he was having a good time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Bob took to the stage with a dramatic entrance: a black stage and an announcer announcing him and all of his reinventions from over the years. He also had a black backdrop the projected black and white images throughout the show. This is not the Bob Dylan I remember from ten years ago. Ten years ago, it was very simplistic: Bob, his guitar, harmonica, and a stool. This time Bob really kicked it up a notch, it was two hours of rock and roll Bob. He only played the guitar for two songs (and it was an electric guitar) and the majority of the time he played the keyboard (yes, keyboard. I didn't know he even played the keyboard). Of course, he also played the harmonica. He had two guitar players , a bass player, and a drummer backing him. He did a good mix of his old songs with his new. Highlights included: " Like a Rolling Stone, "It Ain't Me Babe,"I'll Be Your Baby Tonight," Desolation Row," "Stuck in Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again," "Hwy. 61 Revisited," and the very last song of the encore was my absolute favorite Bob Dylan song: "ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER!" I just about crapped in my pants. It was the best version I have ever heard, too. Despite the rock and roll sound, it was still classic Bob Dylan. He wore a black suit with a black shirt and grey piping down the side of the pants, and a black cowboy hat; he had limited interactions with the audience. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I felt super young at this concert. I would say the average age of the concert goers was 55, but there was also a lot of twenty to thirty somethings and families with young kids. It is great how Bob and Willie really transcend generations and appeal to people from six to seventy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My dad really had a great time. He actually enjoyed Willie more than Bob. My dad is sort of a Bob Dylan purist and likes it better when it's just Bob, his guitar, his harmonica, and a stool. Although, he did enjoy the Everly Brothers style of 50's rock. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;All in all, an AMAZING show. If you ever have the opportunity to see either one of these legends, you should go. They will not disappoint. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I feel fortunate that I've had the opportunity to see one my favorite musicians of all time, Bob Dylan twice. I have so much more respect for Willie Nelson after seeing him. He is an amazing musician and person. And Bob, is always Bob. Both of these musicians have been able to stay true to themselves and not sell out. They are huge Icons in the music industry. It takes a lot to impress me ( I am a bit of a music snob), and Bob and Willie left me in awe. They are truly national treasures. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-4490986828385305776?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/4490986828385305776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=4490986828385305776&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4490986828385305776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4490986828385305776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/07/bob-and-willie.html' title='Bob and Willie'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Sk6vt3C_iZI/AAAAAAAAANg/W3eoreNDGac/s72-c/bob.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5589665379021295187</id><published>2009-06-29T10:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T11:14:15.820-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='media'/><title type='text'>Happy-Go-Lucky? Not So Much</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yesterday I finally got around to watching "Happy-Go--Lucky." I have to admit I was really excited to watch this movie.  All of the reviews I read made it seem like such a fun, light-hearted movie.  I felt like I could relate to the main character, Poppy, because she's 30 years old and a teacher.   I was very disappointed.  The movie had the weakest plot I've ever seen.  Essentially, Poppy has her bike stolen and has to take driving lessons.  On paper that sounds good, but it didn't translate well onto the screen..  In between scenes of her driving lessons (which are funny), are these rambley scenes of Poppy partying with friends, teaching, taking flamenco dancing lessons with a friend and meandering her way around London.  I guess there was the sub-plot of her dealing with a student who is a bully. Even that didn't really add much.  Then, there was the third act addition of love-interest.  That didn't save the movie.   The  movie left me wanting the two hours back I spent watching it.   I kept waiting for some huge plot development, but sadly, it never happened.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Happy Go Lucky" really disappointed me.  I had heard such good things about and it was nominated for so many awards.   Sally Hawkins won a Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Comedy or Musical.  Maybe it was just me.  Maybe I just had too high of expectations  going into watching it.  I just don't understand all the hype.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5589665379021295187?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5589665379021295187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5589665379021295187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5589665379021295187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5589665379021295187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/06/happy-go-lucky-not-so-much.html' title='Happy-Go-Lucky? Not So Much'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6403080686003832560</id><published>2009-06-28T11:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T11:56:46.727-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Week in Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352421056094347490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Skeel5jTIOI/AAAAAAAAANA/6bi7lSCkrV4/s320/Father%27s+Day+008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Skedd966jLI/AAAAAAAAAM4/jIy97S_yhtM/s1600-h/Father%27s+Day+058.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352419820316560562" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Skedd966jLI/AAAAAAAAAM4/jIy97S_yhtM/s320/Father%27s+Day+058.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last Sunday I spent Father's Day with my relatives on my Aunt and Uncle's boat. Despite the overcast day, we had a good time on Lake Michigan. I haven't been able to do this in years. It's always been a tradition for my family to spend Father's Day on the boat. I had a really good time and for the first time in my life I actually enjoyed the boat ride. Normally, half of the boat ride is spent trying to fight nausea. Not anymore. I think at the age of thirty, I've finally kicked motion sickness! As a child I'd have to take Dramamine before going on the boat. On several occasions it was so bad, I had to lay down on the floor of the boat.  I don't miss those days.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Later in the week, I braved the DMV.  I needed to get Illinois license plates because my Minnesota ones expire at the end of the month.  I put this off for quite a while because I'd heard horror stories about the Chicago DMV: Long lines, mean employees, and lots of frustration.  I felt none of this.  Yeah, there was  a short line, but moved very quickly.  The DMV employees were well organized and move people to the correct line quickly.  I was in and out in 25 minutes.  A record for any DMV I've ever been in.   I was shocked! And very impressed.  I had myself braced for three hours of waiting and DMV rage.  Not the case.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All in all, a pretty good week.&lt;/span&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/6420546361774253693-6403080686003832560?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6403080686003832560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6403080686003832560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6403080686003832560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6403080686003832560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/06/week-in-review.html' title='Week in Review'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/Skeel5jTIOI/AAAAAAAAANA/6bi7lSCkrV4/s72-c/Father%27s+Day+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-9111799130936755706</id><published>2009-06-18T09:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T09:32:24.163-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>My Creative Zone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SjpPz00MQZI/AAAAAAAAAMw/BvkgfrefQP4/s1600-h/Creative+Zone+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348675259225358738" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SjpPz00MQZI/AAAAAAAAAMw/BvkgfrefQP4/s320/Creative+Zone+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've been lacking a creative zone, so to speak. I didn't have a space to write, plan ideas, and read. It was really starting to affect my creativity. I've always been sort of random with my writing, but the older I get the more I see that I need to have a separate area to do nothing but write. I just can't haul ass to my local coffee shop and expect magic to happen, nor expect inspiration to hit me in the shower. Seriously, who was I kidding? With the prodding from my friend Steve, I created the perfect creative zone in my kitchen. As you can see, there's tons of room for spreading out papers or putting ideas on the wall above the table. For inspiration, I have my all-time favorite memoirs: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me Talk Pretty One Day&lt;/em&gt; by David Sedaris &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Candy Girl&lt;/em&gt; by Diablo Cody &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bitter is the New Black&lt;/em&gt; by Jen Lancaster&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I Was Told There'd Be Cake&lt;/em&gt; by Sloane Crosley &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I also have tons of paper, pens, and markers. Plus, the bible of creativity, &lt;em&gt;The Artist's Way&lt;/em&gt; by Julia Cameron. If you've lost your creative spirit, this is the book to get you back on track. It is amazing. I am all set. C'mon creativity, hit me! &lt;sigh&gt;I feel much better already. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-9111799130936755706?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/9111799130936755706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=9111799130936755706&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/9111799130936755706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/9111799130936755706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-creative-zone.html' title='My Creative Zone'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SjpPz00MQZI/AAAAAAAAAMw/BvkgfrefQP4/s72-c/Creative+Zone+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-4987406905981535368</id><published>2009-06-17T16:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T16:13:39.579-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><title type='text'>Too Much Time on the Internet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SjlbCYajprI/AAAAAAAAAMo/nFZaChMOAk4/s1600-h/Cleo+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348406128950879922" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SjlbCYajprI/AAAAAAAAAMo/nFZaChMOAk4/s320/Cleo+008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to admit that not having the Internet at home for almost nine months has turned me into a bit of an Internet junkie. A good chunk of my time is spent on the web, catching up on what I've missed. Last night I think I reached a new a low for spending too much time on the web: I found a job for my roommate's cat  (that's Cleo in the above picture) doing modeling.  Yes, that's how you know you've been online for waaaay too long.   For about ten minutes, I really got into it.  She could make between $50-$125 doing print ads or entertainment.   What did I fail to take into consideration? Well,  Cleo is ten years old, super sassy,  fat,  and doesn't really play well with others.   My roommate quickly brought me back to reality.  Yeah, I had been spending too much time on the Internet when turn to finding employment for a geriatric cat.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-4987406905981535368?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/4987406905981535368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=4987406905981535368&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4987406905981535368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4987406905981535368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/06/too-much-time-on-internet.html' title='Too Much Time on the Internet'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SjlbCYajprI/AAAAAAAAAMo/nFZaChMOAk4/s72-c/Cleo+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2761287640457957506</id><published>2009-06-12T13:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T14:06:47.665-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Klutz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Recently I've noticed that I've turned in a klutz.   My body has become my enemy.  I trip over everything and I drop things.  I feel like a teenager who has just experienced a growth spurt and doesn't know how to work their limbs.   I don't recall being like this as a kid.  I've always been told I'm well-coordinated.  I played sports and never looked like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Gumby&lt;/span&gt;.    It's strange.  I started to notice my new found klutziness while trying to be quiet  when my roommate is sleeping.  I either drop something, trip, or just generally make more noise than if I just did something normal.  The pinnacle of my klutziness happened this past weekend.   I managed to trip in the middle of a crosswalk.  Let's start at the beginning.   My friend sprinted across the street to catch the bus, I started running after him.  I was wearing slip on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Keds&lt;/span&gt;.  I must always be fashionable.  My shoe flew off my foot and I tripped on the shoe and fell  down on the street.   In front of an audience.  A girl ran over and helped me up.  I hobbled across the street to meet up with my friend.  I managed to scrape up my knee, bruise my leg,  rip a hole in my jeans, and scrape up my elbow.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so maybe I was a little intoxicated, but still.    I am a total Klutz.   I'm learning to embrace my klutziness.  It's the only thing I can do.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2761287640457957506?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2761287640457957506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2761287640457957506&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2761287640457957506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2761287640457957506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/06/klutz.html' title='Klutz'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2172909744365274685</id><published>2009-06-07T11:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T11:29:57.852-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>NSL</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have a confession: I am secretly a summer hater.  I know, I know.  It's so wrong.  How could I hate summer?  It's an adult thing.  As a child, I couldn't get enough of summer.  I spent most of my summers outside in my backyard getting into trouble. Well, I don't like hot weather and I hate sweating.  I really don't enjoy wearing shorts, either.   Living in Minneapolis, I could work around not liking summer by staying indoors and driving every where.  I really can't do that here in Chicago.  My roommate (also a fellow summer hater) and I have decided that we're going to embrace summer and  actually enjoy  summer.   We call it, NSL, or New Summer Life.  It's working, too.  I know it's not technically summer, but on warmer days, I find myself wanting to spend time outside. For the first time in ten years, I'm going to ride my bike.   I'm working on my summer wardrobe, too.  In the past, I've gotten by with tee shirts, crazily cuffed jeans, and a scarf.  No more.  If It's above 75 degrees, I will not be wearing a scarf.  Comfort before fashion, which is a novel concept for me.   I also bought a new swimsuit, one that I actually like.  I have no excuse to not go to the beach.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;NSL, here I come! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2172909744365274685?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2172909744365274685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2172909744365274685&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2172909744365274685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2172909744365274685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/06/nsl.html' title='NSL'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-296799601051719307</id><published>2009-06-06T00:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T00:04:22.217-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>I'm Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;After seven months without blogging, I am back.  I finally have internet at home, so expect more updates.  I promise.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-296799601051719307?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/296799601051719307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=296799601051719307&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/296799601051719307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/296799601051719307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8834039033365980914</id><published>2008-10-05T17:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T18:00:03.896-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screenplay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Writer's Block No More!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For the first time in months, I've actually had the urge to write.  I don't know what triggered this, but I am going with it.   I've got ideas for several articles and might finish my screenplay by the end of the year.  Today  I actually set down to write on my top secret project.   I am not done with, but I've got a good, solid rough draft and some direction.  It feels awesome.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8834039033365980914?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8834039033365980914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8834039033365980914&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8834039033365980914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8834039033365980914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/10/writers-block-no-more.html' title='Writer&apos;s Block No More!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5897684515509331451</id><published>2008-10-01T11:58:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T12:21:16.363-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thrifting'/><title type='text'>I'm Alive!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I know I haven't blogged in a super, super long time. I don't have the interwebs at home (yet), so I have to haul ass to the local Starbucks, which is only three blocks from my house. The thing is when I do go to Starbucks to do Internet stuff, I've got so much to do that I forget about my poor neglected blog. Anyways, no excuses... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Things are going really well. I am enjoying my job again for the first time in six months. It makes a huge difference. My neighborhood is great and I love that I can walk to practically everything. I have only had to fill my car up with gas once since moving here. I have never, ever done that in all my years of driving. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My roommate and I found two of the Unique Thrift Stores in Chicago. They are just as good, if not better than the ones in Minnesota. I was a bit concerned about the lack of quality thrift stores in Chicago. After all, Minnesota does have some of the best in the country. We both found a ton of good stuff. I found a winter coat, a brown clutch, three necklaces, and winter boots all for $25. That made me happy, I was really missing my Unique Thrift store. Steve found coats, flannels, ties, scarves and shoes galour. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;There's a Dunkin' Donuts on practically every corner. Sadly, I haven't felt the urge to visit them. I was pretty shocked by that. I thought for sure I'd go Dunkin' Donuts crazy. Maybe my urge was satisfied by visiting the uber ghetto one in Branson this summer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyways, life in Chicago is good.  I promise more blogging and pictures of my new 'hood.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5897684515509331451?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5897684515509331451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5897684515509331451&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5897684515509331451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5897684515509331451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-alive.html' title='I&apos;m Alive!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-4162309223980251333</id><published>2008-08-30T20:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T20:11:55.624-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>I made it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I finally made it to Chicago today. Woo-hoo!   It still feels sorta of surreal to not be in Minneapolis.  I never want to pack a box or  haul crap around again.   Last night told my dad that I would be ok with never seeing any of my clothing ever again.  Yes, that's how tired of moving I was.   Today that feeling quickly faded.   I am excited to get settled in.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-4162309223980251333?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/4162309223980251333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=4162309223980251333&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4162309223980251333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4162309223980251333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-made-it.html' title='I made it!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8704344401486873183</id><published>2008-08-27T14:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T14:12:45.073-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>Last Post from Minneapolis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've got two days left in Minneapolis before my move to Chicago. I am very excited, yet sort of sad at the same time. I'll miss Minneapolis and my friends, but I can wait for the newness of Chicago. I'm in the process of packing up my apartment and cleaning. Ugh. That's the part I hate. Here's some random pictures of my last day at work and moving. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My co-worker, Katie, made these cakes on my last day. They were so good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239275729709081170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SLWlhG2iolI/AAAAAAAAAIk/1wF9K4hRVWE/s320/Moving+08+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hello Kitty rings from the cupcakes  at work.  'Cause I heart Hello Kitty.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239276386325112610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SLWmHU8AJyI/AAAAAAAAAIs/lundNvyUQcI/s320/Moving+08+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lastly, my Dad's Explorer, jam-packed with all of my crap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239276401287051202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SLWmIMrNN8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/cLLj1Q55JTc/s320/Moving+08+032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is probably the last post from the 612.  Wow.  I don't have Internet at home anymore and moving eats up  most of my time.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&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/6420546361774253693-8704344401486873183?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8704344401486873183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8704344401486873183&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8704344401486873183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8704344401486873183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/08/last-post-from-minneapolis.html' title='Last Post from Minneapolis'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SLWlhG2iolI/AAAAAAAAAIk/1wF9K4hRVWE/s72-c/Moving+08+015.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6722446743581921926</id><published>2008-08-19T00:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T00:31:30.968-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>Overwhelmed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://nataliedee.com/081908/where-peanutbutter-comes-from.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;nataliedee.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today it finally hit me that I'm moving relatively soon.  A week from this Friday, to be exact.  That doesn't give me much time to pack my stuff and clean my apartment.  Today it was really overwhelming me. I felt like the peanut in the Natalie Dee comic above.    I know that I'm in pretty good shape, but there just seems to be a ton to do.    I am way better organized than my last move, but today I would've rather packed stuff than gone to work.   At least I have Wednesday off.  I will do nothing but pack and clean. Grrr...  I will stay calm.  I will not freak out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6722446743581921926?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6722446743581921926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6722446743581921926&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6722446743581921926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6722446743581921926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/08/overwhelmed.html' title='Overwhelmed'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-9012707853575393297</id><published>2008-08-14T09:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T10:02:40.495-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Furniture Liquidation Sale'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Microwave and Rudeness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I forgot to mention that I sold my microwave the other day.  It's sort of hard to adjust to life without a microwave.  I'm not totally dependent on my microwave, but it really helps cut down on time spent cooking.  I'm not one of those people that only cooks with their micro.   I mainly use it for heating up leftovers or making frozen dinners.   I've been taking things to work that I need to heat up and eating sandwiches at home.  It works.   I still have a stove.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The Furniture Liquidation is going well, but I have noticed a lack of manners by people responding to my ads.  This has happened several times.  I get really excited that someone has responded and really seems interested in my  stuff.  I respond back to set up a time to come take a look at it.  The person on the other end NEVER RESPONDS!  How rude! Is it really that hard to reply and say you don't want it? Since encountering this, I've been using a different strategy.  I respond to everyone and the person who actually follows through gets the item.  That strategy works best.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-9012707853575393297?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/9012707853575393297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=9012707853575393297&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/9012707853575393297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/9012707853575393297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/08/microwave-and-rudeness.html' title='Microwave and Rudeness'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2450791400371482733</id><published>2008-08-13T21:49:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T22:07:57.264-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Furniture Liquidation Sale'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Branson and Moving</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm back from my mini-vacation to Branson, MO for my cousin's wedding.  I had such a good time.  It was great to actually be able to spend more than a day with the relatives and I really was in need of a vacation.  And we went to Dunkin' Donuts for breakfast one morning.  I pigged out on donuts, of course.   The coffee, unfortunately, was boiled and horrible.  At least the donuts were good.   Branson is a weird mix of the Wisconsin Dells and Vegas.  Of course, lots of white trash tourists, too. It's almost like I never left the MOA.   We made the mistake of going to the outlet mall on a Saturday--it was awful.   White Trash Fest '08.  Ugh.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Back in the 612, the reality of moving has hit me.  It's weird how I went from thinking it was a long ways away to it's happening in less than a month.  I think that the cleaning out of my apartment has really helped.  This week, I sold my guitar and my crappy IKEA bookshelf.  I only have nine days left at work.  I still am super excited, but I'm also kind of sad.  I will miss many of my co-workers. I will miss my local hangouts.  But, at the same time, I am looking forward to starting over.  This is a huge change.  The last time I made a change that was even close to this was going to college. And that doesn't really count.   College is such a controlled environment and this is, well, the real world.   It'll be nice to step outside of my comfort zone.  Find a new coffee shop and favorite pizza place.   I cannot wait.  More importantly, locate my creativity.   It's in there somewhere.  It has to be.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2450791400371482733?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2450791400371482733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2450791400371482733&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2450791400371482733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2450791400371482733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/08/branson-and-moving.html' title='Branson and Moving'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6588403792959609392</id><published>2008-08-04T09:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T10:05:37.745-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Furniture Liquidation Sale'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Furniture Liquidation Sale Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The Furniture Liquidation Sale is loosing momentum.  I guess it had to happen at some point.  I probably jinxed myself.  I still need to put my bed and kitchen table on there, but I am waiting until I get back from my cousin's wedding this weekend.   That will be the last of the big money items.  I've got my guitar on there right now, and no one has inquired about it.  The guitar is the stupidest thing I ever bought.   I was young and ambitious  and really wanted to learn to play the guitar.  Eight years later, I don't recall anything I learned.   I spent an entire pay check on that.   Ahhh... to be young and frivolous with my money.  I haven't done that in a long time.   I'm way too practical.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Off I go to do some more cleaning.  I swear that's all I do lately.  Of course, this is what happens when you're a packrat.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6588403792959609392?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6588403792959609392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6588403792959609392&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6588403792959609392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6588403792959609392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/08/furniture-liquidation-sale-update.html' title='Furniture Liquidation Sale Update'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-961021557813357664</id><published>2008-07-31T23:55:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T00:24:41.720-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>My Last Month in Minneapolis</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've got 31 days left in Minneapolis. Wow. It still sorta seems surreal that I'm moving to Chicago in a month. At the same time, I am so excited. I've been stuck in a horrible rut for way too long. I just need some kind of change. I am really hoping that I can locate my creativity, too. It's been lost for a couple of months. I cannot even recall the last time I sat down to work on my screenplay. It's not like I haven't thought about it, but I haven't made the time to sit down and work on it. Grrr... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The last time I made a major move I was 18 years old. I came to Minneapolis for college at the U and I haven't left. Well, I did go home to Wisconsin for breaks, but that was it. I really think this move is well overdue. I recall when I graduated from college, I really wanted to move somewhere new. I didn't care where, really. I just wanted an adventure. I was far too practical and instead I ventured into corporate America. I totally should've listened to the voice inside of me and moved somewhere and worked as a barista (which is the job I thought was cool when I was 22). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am really excited to be able to spend more time with my relatives. My Aunt was happy when I told about my move. She said she always knew that I'd move back to Chicago. I will be able to walk from work to her house. I can baby-sit for my cousin's kid. My Dad will only be two hours away. I can actually go to a Packers game with him. I can see his 3,000 Daffodils. At the same time, it is an adventure. A fresh start. It's finally starting to sink in. I cannot wait to move. Don't get me wrong, I will miss Minneapolis and my friends, but a new start is so appealing. It's just what I need. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-961021557813357664?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/961021557813357664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=961021557813357664&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/961021557813357664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/961021557813357664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-last-month-in-minneapolis.html' title='My Last Month in Minneapolis'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5222709101746762338</id><published>2008-07-31T00:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T00:58:21.440-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='media'/><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tomorrow  (it's not the next day til I  go to bed) is my seventh day consecutive day of work.  I think I've lost my brain somewhere on day four.   I think the only thing that will help me  get out of bed and  go to work is that Chipotle is FINALLY opening a store in the MOA and they are giving away free burritos tomorrow.  Woo-hoo. I am so there.  I heart Chipotle.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Tonight while driving home from work, I heard "Bohemian Rhapsody" on the radio.  Apparently, some of the lyrics are too edgy and not family friendly.   The line: "put a gun against his head.." was changed to "put a  ________   against his head.  Seriously.  Why is that bad? I think everyone can figure that out.  In fact, you can use context clues with the next part, "pulled the trigger, now he's dead."    Noooo.... people won't be able to figure out it's a gun.  Gotta love the FCC.   Why is 'gun' a bad word?   I just don't get it.  Maybe they shouldn't play the song at all, if they're going to be that lame.   I bet Disney is somehow behind this.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5222709101746762338?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5222709101746762338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5222709101746762338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5222709101746762338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5222709101746762338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6657320022355742958</id><published>2008-07-30T11:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T11:09:05.659-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Furniture Liquidation Sale'/><title type='text'>Craigslist is my New BFF</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know what people did before &lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/"&gt;Craigslist&lt;/a&gt;.   It has made my Furniture Liquidation Sale so much easier.   With my crazy work schedule, I need something that is easy.   And something that I can do at random times during the day.  So far, I've sold my dresser and coffee table.  I've got people coming for my desk and love seat.  What I like the best is you don't have to put forth a lot of effort.  It takes about ten minutes to get something posted and then you just sit back and wait for the e-mails to roll in.  I was shocked at the responses I've gotten for my IKEA/ Target treasures.    I actually had a bidding war for my dresser, which is so nuts.   Not complaining, though.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6657320022355742958?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6657320022355742958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6657320022355742958&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6657320022355742958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6657320022355742958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/craigslist-is-my-new-bff.html' title='Craigslist is my New BFF'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8690241942070532422</id><published>2008-07-22T21:45:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T22:01:30.781-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><title type='text'>Fun with Technology</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tonight I spent close to forty minutes on the phone with my Dad,  troubleshooting a printer problem .  Last night he was printing something on his computer and his printer wouldn't stop printing.  He turned his computer off last night and thought that would solve the problem.  It didn't.   Tonight he turned his computer on and the printer fired up again.   I would like to mention that his printer is over 10 years old.  After walking him through several options, it finally stopped printing and I had a headache.  I really don't mind helping my Dad with stuff like this, because he's not very computer savvy, but I always end up annoyed.   My Dad has no patience with his  computer and is not a very good listener with stuff like this ( I think this is payback for me never listening when he helped me with math).   It also never helps that I am giving directions over the phone, instead of in person.    What always amazes me with my Dad's lack of computer ability, is he's a smart guy.  Super smart.  He can fix things and  has a degree in Engineering but he can't solve a computer problem.   I can't do math and science to save my life, but I do know how to fix computer problems.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We did make some headway tonight: I convinced my Dad he should get a new computer AND  a printer.  I offered to help him shop for  them  the next time I was home.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My Dad did tell me that I am more helpful than the IT guy at work.  I explain things in layman's terms and am patient.  Woo-hoo.  Score one for the girl with a Liberal Arts degree.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8690241942070532422?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8690241942070532422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8690241942070532422&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8690241942070532422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8690241942070532422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/fun-with-technology.html' title='Fun with Technology'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-3986764941049940215</id><published>2008-07-21T22:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T23:02:01.694-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>SOLD!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am having awesome luck with my Furniture Liquidation  Madness  Sale on &lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/"&gt;Craigslist&lt;/a&gt;.  I already have 50% percent of what I posted sold or  spoken for.  The best part: I posted less than 24 hours ago.  Wow.  I've had a huge response, too.   Who would've thought Target and IKEA stuff is in that high of demand.   My dresser is being picked up on Weds.  I am not sure what I am going to do with all of my clothes, though.  I am thinking suitcases and storage bins.  I would rather sell it now, than drag it to the curb  or move it to Chicago.  I'm holding off on posting my bed until it gets closer.  I really don't want to sleep on an air mattress that deflates while you sleep on it for over a month.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I am really hoping that I am not jinxing my luck with Craigslist by posting about it.   Cross your fingers.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-3986764941049940215?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/3986764941049940215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=3986764941049940215&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/3986764941049940215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/3986764941049940215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/sold.html' title='SOLD!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8428708344954924863</id><published>2008-07-20T10:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T10:59:34.587-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life moving'/><title type='text'>Going, Going, Gone!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yesterday I researched moving companies and I discovered that they are way too expensive.  I figured they'd be more because of the price of gas, but not what I found.  My stuff isn't even worth what they are charging.  The cheapest was a little over a 1000 and the most expensive was 2700.  I don't even have that much stuff.  Especially furniture wise.   I would hate to see what it would cost for a family to move.   Yikes.    After brainstorming with my practical, wise dad, I decided that I am selling most of my furniture.   It's cheaper to just start from scratch in Chicago.  The exceptions are my kitchen table, which was my parents when they first got married.  And it  still looks cool.  I have two end tables that are probably from the 50's that were my grandpa's.  I am only keeping the items that could be on "Antique Roadshow."  Everything else will be part of my Liquidation Sale.   Let me know if you or anyone you know is in need of following items: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A double bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Two desks- one desk is huge and nothing special. The other one, is adorable.  It's shaped like a yellow jellybean and has cute white legs.   I am super sad to part with that.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;An IKEA black cube bookshelf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A kitchen island.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A love seat .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A dresser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My prices will be fair.  I promise.  I'm pretty savvy at pricing things.   Especially since most of my stuff is from Target and IKEA.  It's not like it's Italian furniture.    The bed is from JCP and the loveseat is from HOM.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Today I'm taking pictures of my stuff and posting it on Craigslist.   I figure with back to school for college kids, I should have no problem unloading my stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8428708344954924863?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8428708344954924863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8428708344954924863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8428708344954924863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8428708344954924863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/going-going-gone.html' title='Going, Going, Gone!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1456947278310805704</id><published>2008-07-19T17:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T17:19:48.715-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><title type='text'>Facebook Rocks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I never thought I'd be writing this, but Facebook is pretty cool.  I admit at first, I was a bit skeptical.  I thought it would be lame like Myspace and I'd have tons of freaks wanting to be my friend.   I've had just the opposite experience.   I've reconnected with my childhood BFF and close friends from high school and college.  I have had no freaks wanting to be my friend, only  people I actually know.   I heart Facebook.  At least for now.  I am sure at some point the novelty will wear off.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1456947278310805704?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1456947278310805704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1456947278310805704&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1456947278310805704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1456947278310805704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/facebook-rocks.html' title='Facebook Rocks!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-208067434823811540</id><published>2008-07-19T11:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T11:42:59.235-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>BIG NEWS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SIIWhDtS5UI/AAAAAAAAAIc/2KGxIL8ay0k/s1600-h/Chicago+Summer+08+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224763274889979202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SIIWhDtS5UI/AAAAAAAAAIc/2KGxIL8ay0k/s320/Chicago+Summer+08+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is where I'll be living as of September 1st.  No, I'm not moving into the Bean, I'm moving to Chicago! I am so excited.   I have been thinking of this for quite a while (almost a year) and I'm finally doing it.  I've just been so restless and in need of a big change.  I'll be much closer ( two hours away) to my Dad and I have relatives that live in Chicago.  It'll be nice to be able to spend time with them.    I really feel that Chicago is where I finally will become a writer.   And where I will finally find myself the magical adult career (my Dad is still harping away on that).   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;In the meantime, I am drinking as much Summit EPA as I can (they don't have it in Chicago) and trying to downsize my crap. I'm going to sell a lot of my furniture on Craigslist and sell my movies, cds and  books at Half Price Books.  I will also have a trunk full of goodies for Goodwill.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-208067434823811540?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/208067434823811540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=208067434823811540&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/208067434823811540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/208067434823811540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/big-news.html' title='BIG NEWS'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SIIWhDtS5UI/AAAAAAAAAIc/2KGxIL8ay0k/s72-c/Chicago+Summer+08+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8685365615306346719</id><published>2008-07-10T10:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T10:26:55.829-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Flakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm really sick of people being such flakes lately.  I just don't get it.  I have never  been a flake.  I  don't know what goes on in their heads, but it stinks.  The past couple of weeks have been flake fest '08.  I am over it.   I don't want to get too into the details  and expose the flakes (maybe I should, though), but the worst example of flakiness was a friend who was in town.  We made plans to get together and she never showed up (we were meeting at my  house).  After waiting for 40 minutes, I called her and left her a message.  I never heard back from her.   At first, I was really angry and upset.  I quickly got over it, though.  I really just don't comprehend how someone who is supposed to be one of my closest friends can just blow me off like that. It was her idea when we got together, too.   And to not call me back.   At all.   In the Age of Technology there are so many ways to get a hold of someone when you really don't want to talk to them.  My favorite is texting.  The same week my friend flaked out on me, I had a woman flake out on me for a business meeting.  Yes, a professional meeting.  I waited for fifteen minutes before I called her and left a message.  Guess what? She never called back.  That one I think was worse.   It's business related.  That my friends, is low.   People really have no excuses, except for their own general lameness. Oh, and a lack of manners or common courtesy.   OK.  Done venting.  No more.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8685365615306346719?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8685365615306346719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8685365615306346719&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8685365615306346719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8685365615306346719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/flakes.html' title='Flakes'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1377159799215358406</id><published>2008-07-09T21:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T21:41:14.975-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'>Getting Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's official: I'm old. The trends that I wore in high school are back with a vengeance. That my friends, is when you know you're old. I was looking at the Delia's catalogue (I have no idea how I ended up on the mailing list) when I saw a model wearing Doc Marten boots. I lived in my Docs in high school and college. I turned a couple more pages and another model was wearing those Minnetonka Moccasin boots that lace up and have fringe at the top. My childhood, bff, Jenny rocked those boots when no one else would wear them. I know that these trends never ever really go away, but seeing them in a catalogue targeted towards teens really made me feel old.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1377159799215358406?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1377159799215358406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1377159799215358406&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1377159799215358406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1377159799215358406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/getting-old.html' title='Getting Old'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2701910382155363666</id><published>2008-07-05T11:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T11:59:25.225-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Thirty is Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://nataliedee.com/070508/cannibal-cupcake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;nataliedee.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My countdown to thirty has finally ended! Woo-hoo. I survived my twenties. Barely. Bring on my thirties. I don't feel any older or wiser. I always thought it was funny when I was little and an adult would always ask me on my birthday if I felt any older. Um... no. I would always spend a couple hours wondering what it felt like to feel older, though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Yesterday Christine and I went on a quest to locate a McDonald's that had a Ronald Mc Donald statue. She decided it would be fun for me to kick Ronald in the crotch. Something everyone needs to do before they turn thirty. We failed. Miserably. Apparently, Mc Donald's took Ronald out of the stores. That just seems wrong. There has to be an old school Mc Donald's somewhere in Minneapolis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am off to enjoy my birthday and the beautiful weather.  And possibly a nap this afternoon, so I am well-rested for bowling tonight.   Ahhh... I must be getting old if I need a nap.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2701910382155363666?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2701910382155363666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2701910382155363666&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2701910382155363666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2701910382155363666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/thirty-is-here.html' title='Thirty is Here'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-7596415139131334214</id><published>2008-07-05T11:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T11:32:47.782-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Happy Belated Birthday, America!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last night in honor of our nation's birthday, my neighborhood was out of control with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;amateur&lt;/span&gt; pyrotechnic displays.   I seriously thought I was living in a war zone.  They went on until three in the morning.   Isn't that a little excessive? And sort of lame.    I could see until midnight, but that's the cutoff.  I am not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;against&lt;/span&gt; people having fun, but I draw the line at  moronic fun.  These fireworks were not part of the pack that Target sells, these were full-on, last time I checked, illegal fireworks.  Needless to say, I did not get a good night sleep.  I went to bed at midnight and I got up again at one because there was no way I was going to fall asleep.  I ended up watching television until 2 and went back to bed.  Ugh.   I'm sort of tired and cranky today.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; Minneapolis and St. Paul both put on really good fireworks displays.   Our tax dollars probably fund them.  Why wouldn't you just go watch those instead of putting on home displays that might risk injury or a setting your house on fire? I just don't get it. I guess I can see sparklers, but not professional &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pyrotechnics&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/6420546361774253693-7596415139131334214?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/7596415139131334214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=7596415139131334214&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7596415139131334214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7596415139131334214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-belated-birthday-america.html' title='Happy Belated Birthday, America!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1001420816924630026</id><published>2008-07-03T10:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:04:53.126-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Last Retainer Post- I Promise!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can eat cereal again! Woo-hoo! Ok, ok.  I promise this will be the last post about my retainer and  being able to eat again...but it is just too exciting!   For a week, I had to eat cereal on one side of my mouth. It was horrible.   You wouldn't think it would be that big of a deal, but it is.   Anyways, no more on my retainer.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As a side note, two days until I leave my 20's behind me.  Woo-hoo.   So excited.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1001420816924630026?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1001420816924630026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1001420816924630026&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1001420816924630026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1001420816924630026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/last-retainer-post-i-promise.html' title='The Last Retainer Post- I Promise!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2507897429939936984</id><published>2008-07-02T23:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T23:32:16.008-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Back to Normal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I finally got my retainer fixed today.  Woo-hoo!  The best part is I can eat like a normal person again.   It seriously hurt to eat cereal.  I was down to two meals a day and no snacks.  I was drinking a lot of Naked juices because they didn't require chewing and are full of good things.  Bananas and yogurt worked well, too.  I really do not need to lose any amount of weight.    It is also nice to talk without having a wire poke me in the tongue.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2507897429939936984?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2507897429939936984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2507897429939936984&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2507897429939936984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2507897429939936984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/back-to-normal.html' title='Back to Normal'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1829044866518961343</id><published>2008-07-01T20:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T23:35:52.726-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Best Birthday Ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Growing up, I always had such fun birthday parties.   They really were nothing special.  My parents were quite frugal and at the same time kept things pretty simple.  I always had my birthday parties in the backyard with games and cake. That was it.  But, when you're five or six that is really all that you need.   I never had a fancy birthday party at Mc Donald's with Ronald Mc Donald doing tricks and Grimmace serving up cake.    I don't think I ever wanted anything like that, either.   I was content with pin-the-tail on the donkey, Simon says, a pinata, and tag.   Looking back, my parents were  brill ant.  They never had to deal with the mess in the house; it was always in the backyard.  All they would need is a hose and a garbage bag.  The best birthday ever was the year I had a pinata.  The thing was constructed so well that my Dad had to get out the wooden baseball bat to break it.   He also managed to crush all the candy with his strength.  My Mom made the best birthday cakes ever.  I always had a white cake with white frosting and strawberry filling on the inside.  Yum.  It is always amazing how the simplest of things made me so happy.  I am sure my memory of my birthday parties is different than my parents.  I am sure someone threw up or hit someone or some kid was very annoying.  But, even now, 24 years later it still seems like the perfect birthday.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1829044866518961343?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1829044866518961343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1829044866518961343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1829044866518961343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1829044866518961343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/best-birthday-ever.html' title='The Best Birthday Ever'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-3794837519646133506</id><published>2008-07-01T13:26:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T13:50:11.808-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Figuring My Life Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGp5XdpkoTI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/XNU0DdgAd5s/s1600-h/Dad%27s+Summer+08+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218116562265088306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGp5XdpkoTI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/XNU0DdgAd5s/s320/Dad%27s+Summer+08+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I think I'm ready for some kind of huge change. Not just a small change like changing my hair color, something big. The past couple of weeks have been bad from a restless standpoint. I just feel like I'm tired of my day to day life. I want to mix things up. I mainly want to find a way to be a serious writer.  This is totally different than one of my four Quarter Life Crises.  I am determined to make some sort of change, not just angst filled Michelle who hates her life.   Ahhhh.. good old angst filled Michelle.  She makes me chuckle.  Mainly, because my so-called angst was very trivial.   One of my co-workers and I were discussing our angst filled high school years and neither of us really had a reason to be all angst-filled.  My angst stemmed from growing up in a wealthy suburb.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyways, my current situation is different.  I am not going to rush into anything.   I just need to think things through.   I have a possible idea, I just need to work the logistics out.   Just having some sort of idea, helps me with my restlessness.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As a random note (well, this whole post has been out there), I am still living life with my retainer wire poking me in the tongue.  Grr.... tomorrow I will finally get that taken care of.  It is seriously annoying.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-3794837519646133506?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/3794837519646133506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=3794837519646133506&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/3794837519646133506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/3794837519646133506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/07/figuring-my-life-out.html' title='Figuring My Life Out'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGp5XdpkoTI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/XNU0DdgAd5s/s72-c/Dad%27s+Summer+08+014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-179728538824716909</id><published>2008-06-30T10:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T10:47:03.010-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>More Vacation, Please!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I almost don't want to blog about this, cause it makes me seem like a whiny person, but I could really use another vacation.  Yes, I've been back at work for a week, and I could use some more vacation.   Unfortunately, the next "vacation" I have is in August for my cousin's wedding.   I think this all ties into my restless nature.  It's been out of control lately (well, since I came back) and I'm not sure what to do about it.  At least this week won't be so bad.   Thank goodness for the 4th of July and my birthday, my two saving graces.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-179728538824716909?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/179728538824716909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=179728538824716909&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/179728538824716909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/179728538824716909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-vacation-please.html' title='More Vacation, Please!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1679964254815936061</id><published>2008-06-27T14:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T14:55:48.103-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Revenge of My Retainer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other night I got my toothbrush stuck in my permanent retailer on the back of my  lower teeth.   After a bit of a struggle, I realized that I popped the bracket off the end.   It really didn't hurt, but now I have a teeny tiny wire sticking up and poking my tongue.  It's making talking and eating difficult.   And is really annoying.   At work I am convinced that people thought I had a speech impediment.   It was sort of funny in a David Sedaris sort of way.   I oscillated between being embarrassed and wanting to making my faux impediment worse.  I know, I know.  I'm sick.   Anything though, to get me through the day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyways, back to my retainer.. I feel like this is orthodontic payback for accidentally throwing out my non permanent retainer at Mc Donald's and at school when I was little.  Grrrr....  Hopefully, I can get it fixed soon.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1679964254815936061?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1679964254815936061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1679964254815936061&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1679964254815936061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1679964254815936061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/revenge-of-my-retainer.html' title='The Revenge of My Retainer'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-4449173990618454619</id><published>2008-06-27T10:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T10:58:59.698-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Two Special White Trash Moments</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other day  I was waiting patiently in line at Holiday to pay for my ghetto ice tea, the giant Arizona Green Tea, when I heard the most ignorant and appalling statement I have ever heard in my life.  "Man,  she's got it made.  I needs to gets me one of those.  It be so much easier to get around."   The woman was talking about a wheelchair.   She kept going on and on about how great this would be.  Her friend kept trying to get her to quiet down, but she wouldn't.  I really wanted to say something, but I was so speechless, I didn't know what to say.  I just stood there, dumbfounded.   The woman in the wheelchair overheard this nonsense and came over.   She told the super rude woman  "at least you can use your legs."  The Super rude woman didn't get it.  And probably never will.  I really give the woman in the wheelchair credit for that.   Wow.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;While driving home from Milwaukee, I stopped at a Mc Donald's in the middle of no where WI  for my favorite car trip treat, a cheeseburger Happy Meal.   Yum.   The second I entered the building, I wanted to run back to my car.  There was two woman with six kids between them and the kids were out of control.  Not funny ha-ha out of control, but actual,  out of control.   They looked like a pack of wild dogs.  They were jumping up and down, crying over not getting a soda and running all over.   It was a spectacle and it was about to get worse.  I turned away for a second and when I glanced over, a three year old had grabbed one of the bags and was grabbing cheeseburgers out of the bag.  She proceeded to unwrap one of the cheeseburgers on the floor, put the cheeseburger on the floor, and eat it. Ewww... What did mom do? She asked her, "Did you get the one with the pickles?"   I was appalled.  Her kid had just eaten a cheeseburger that was on the dirty Mc Donald's floor for longer than five seconds.   In addition to the pickles,she probably got some Salmonella, West Nile, Hepatitis, and  Ringworm from that floor.   I know that we have immune systems, but I don't think they protect against the dirtiest of all floors.   The mom's  concern for her baby having pickles was the classic do nothing parent. If I had done that when I was little, the cheeseburger would've went in the garbage and we would've went home, where I would've been punished.    Of course, I knew how to behave in public.   I saved my bad behavior for home.  The kicker for me, was watching the family walk to their van with one of the kids running around outside without shoes on.  Ewww...  So Klassy.  Klassy with a K, that is.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-4449173990618454619?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/4449173990618454619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=4449173990618454619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4449173990618454619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4449173990618454619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/two-special-white-trash-moments.html' title='Two Special White Trash Moments'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5669756345564573282</id><published>2008-06-26T11:47:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T11:53:29.052-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a good deal'/><title type='text'>The Wristlet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It just occurred to me that in my last post, I failed to post a picture of the Marc by Marc Jacobs Wristlet. Silly me. I posted a picture of the Marc by Marc Jacobs bag with the wristlet inside, but unless you had X-ray vision, you couldn't see it.     So, here it is: &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216233409314981474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGPIpiO-hmI/AAAAAAAAAII/U0YaYBVohGs/s320/Chicago+Summer+08.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Isn't it so fun? The inside has tons of room and pockets for things, too.    I heart Marc Jacobs.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&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/6420546361774253693-5669756345564573282?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5669756345564573282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5669756345564573282&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5669756345564573282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5669756345564573282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/wristlet.html' title='The Wristlet'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGPIpiO-hmI/AAAAAAAAAII/U0YaYBVohGs/s72-c/Chicago+Summer+08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5635955764595231577</id><published>2008-06-24T11:26:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T12:24:15.305-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Dad&apos;s lectures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Back From Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm back from my trip to Milwaukee and Chicago. I have to admit it was hard to come back, I had such a good time. I am really not looking forward to going back to work this afternoon. That is going to be a rude awakening. I did have six days in a row off. Which, in my world is unheard of. Anyways, back to the fun. Here's a picture of the roses from my Dad's awesome garden. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215486494133093746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGEhVWWmhXI/AAAAAAAAAHg/w0Xg4bOUX6E/s320/Dad%27s+Summer+08+097.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am always so impressed and amazed by my Dad's garden. It takes up a huge portion of his backyard. And requires so much work. The one thing about Milwaukee I will never miss is the lack of quality radio stations. It is seriously the music void of the Midwest. As I was driving into town, I was listening to New Rock 102.1 and they were playing the same stuff I recall from 12 years ago. Not exactly New Rock. More like Old Rock. I heard local Milwaukee fave, the Gufs song "Smile." It was big when I was in high school. And the Offspring. Sigh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I took the train down to Chicago. It's so affordable. It only cost me $37 round trip. And it only takes an hour and a half. Not, only did I save gas and time, I saved my sanity. I abhor driving in Chicago. I never would've gotten there in an hour and a half. Maybe three and a half hours. My Dad had to leave me with some words of wisdom before dropping me off at the train. "Remember that Chicago isn't like Minneapolis. It's a big city like New York." Oh my gosh! Really? I thought they were the same. I am so not country. And not stupid. I proved my city-savvy by beating out a woman for a cab at the train station. She tried to talk her way into me letting her have my cab because she had been waiting there longer than I. I don't think so.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyways, my friend, Steve and I checked out Millennium park, which very cool.   And a huge tourist draw, which you can tell by the people surrounding it.   I love how modern it is.   Yet, it is odd to see something like this in a city. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215487143941348562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGEh7LE9nNI/AAAAAAAAAHo/sv8ALyb6Cd4/s320/Chicago+Summer+08+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is the Bean . Sort of trippy. You can walk underneath it, which is even cooler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215488882024365330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGEjgV8PvRI/AAAAAAAAAHw/eMcvRqxspJo/s320/Chicago+Summer+08+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While in Chicago, I did a lot of shopping. The stores there are so much better than here. Even the Old Navy is better. It's bigger and had great displays. It almost didn't look like an Old Navy. Shocking, I know. The highlight, though, had to be the Marc by Marc Jacobs store in Bucktown. I heart Marc Jacobs. His store was really cool. The best part is they carry affordable gifty items that everyone can afford. I bought a rust colored wristlet for only $25. For Marc by Marc Jacobs. This makes up for the fact that I can't afford the super cute dresses that look like Marc designed them with me in mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my wristlet, hanging out at the bar (in the safety of the bag).  I have to admit that I was pretty obnoxious showing off my bag. But, it's not everyday that I buy Marc Jacobs. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215495116690846434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGEpLP4kcuI/AAAAAAAAAIA/Djwu4hJLrdk/s320/Chicago+Summer+08+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The other cool thing is shoes stores carry an awesome selection of sneakers.  Tons and tons of unique Nikes, Pumas, and Converse.  I did use my restraint and didn't buy any shoes. Woo-hoo.  It was hard, though.    I love fun sneakers, but really need to wear the ones I have.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All in all, it was a good vacation.  I got to hang out with my friend Steve  and catch up with my relatives that I haven't seen in a couple of years.    The one thing I didn't do is go to Dunkin' Donuts.  I saw a really big one with a Baskin Robbins in it, but I wasn't hungry for a donut.  Sad, I know.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&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/6420546361774253693-5635955764595231577?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5635955764595231577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5635955764595231577&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5635955764595231577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5635955764595231577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/back-from-vacation.html' title='Back From Vacation'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SGEhVWWmhXI/AAAAAAAAAHg/w0Xg4bOUX6E/s72-c/Dad%27s+Summer+08+097.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5056194516031741090</id><published>2008-06-16T09:42:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T09:58:25.191-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Dad&apos;s lectures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>I Gots the Skillz to Pay the Billz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My Dad's latest kick is that I need to have a "career" and not a "job."  Actually, he's been on his "Career" vs. a "Job" soapbox for six months now.   A "career" is something that provides you with adult-benefits like a 401K, paid vacation days, and the opportunity to stay with the company until the day you die.  A "job" might have some of those adult-benefits, but it's just a job.  More than likely you can't stay with your "job" until the day you die. Or if you do, you'd be in the same position as you started.   I would like to believe that a job can turn into a career and a career can turn into a job.  My theory is I am content as long as I can pay my bills and have a little left over for fun.   Also, times are different.  It's not 1968 where you stay with a company forever. Frankly, I don't think I could handle that.  I am way too restless.   In these crappy economic times, I am fortunate to have a job.    My Dad means well.  I just think a little bit differently than he does.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I only have two days of work at my "job" this week! Woo-hoo! I am going to Milwaukee to visit my Dad and to Chicago to see a friend and my rellies.  I am so excited.  I haven't taken a trip in several years.   I really need a break.   Thank goodness my "job" has excellent adult benefits like vacay (Ok, I'll put the sarcasm away).   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5056194516031741090?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5056194516031741090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5056194516031741090&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5056194516031741090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5056194516031741090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-gots-skillz-to-pay-billz.html' title='I Gots the Skillz to Pay the Billz'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6088055471714398673</id><published>2008-06-15T22:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T10:00:14.071-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my Dad&apos;s lectures'/><title type='text'>Just Walk Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In honor of Father's Day, I bring you the best of the best of my Dad's lectures. First, I should share, that I my Dad lives for the lecture. When I was younger he imparted lots of good information, but as I got older I noticed that the lectures got less pertenent and more along the lines of "Are you kidding me? Do I look stupid" variety. I know he means well, but seriously pumpkin carving and fireworks safety? I'm already aware of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyways, the best lecture my Dad ever gave was during the summer of 02'. My cousin, Andrew and I road tripped from Minneapolis to Milwaukee to help my Dad clean out the basement. We were going to Summerfest (this huge music fest along the lake front in Milwaukee) with my friend, Tiff. Before we left, my Dad gave his standard safety lecture, but about half-way through, it took a weird turn. I didn't have any idea where my Dad was going. I thought he was heading towards the dangers of drugs and alcohol lecture, but he skipped right passed that. We stood clueless for a while waiting for the big message. After he rambled for a while he got to his point: if someone bumps into you or spills beer on you, &lt;strong&gt;JUST WALK AWAY&lt;/strong&gt;. So simple. Wise words from Dad. It makes sense. And it can be use for a variety of situations. It was our big joke at Summerfest. To this day, my cousin and I still joke about it. My Dad's proud that one of his lectures were remembered and put to use on a daily basis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6088055471714398673?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6088055471714398673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6088055471714398673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6088055471714398673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6088055471714398673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-walk-away.html' title='Just Walk Away'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-3387519770759141187</id><published>2008-06-05T10:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T10:10:57.538-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>A Month Until My Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm a month away from saying goodbye to my twenties! So excited!  I'm very ready to leave my twenties behind.  Over them.   Way over them.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-3387519770759141187?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/3387519770759141187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=3387519770759141187&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/3387519770759141187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/3387519770759141187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/month-until-my-birthday.html' title='A Month Until My Birthday!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5999044793296754372</id><published>2008-06-04T22:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T22:57:25.957-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='traditions'/><title type='text'>Retail Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SEdiIAQnSqI/AAAAAAAAAHY/dB8tQMIGEeA/s1600-h/Detroit+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208239383725427362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SEdiIAQnSqI/AAAAAAAAAHY/dB8tQMIGEeA/s320/Detroit+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yesterday my friend came up with a new catch phrase, "retail baby" to describe me. I think this term is quite fitting and I'm also not really sure what it means. I do, however, see this term being popular on the streets. It has huge potential.   I could see two  catty  girls  talking about a co-worker: "She is such a retail baby. That's why she got the promotion." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Let me explain... I'm a "retail baby" because I've got retail in my blood. There's no fighting it. On my Dad's side of the family, I'm third generation to have worked retail. My grandpa worked for JCP for 40 years. My two uncles followed in his foot steps and my dad sold shoes and swept floors there in high school. I even had an old mannequin when I was little.  My mom  worked for Marshall Field's at their State Street location in the bed and bath department.  We talk retail at the holidays, too.   As for me,  I've got 5.5 years of retail fun under my belt. That's &lt;strong&gt;six&lt;/strong&gt; holiday seasons. I still have my sanity, too.  Yeah, I'm a retail baby.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5999044793296754372?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5999044793296754372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5999044793296754372&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5999044793296754372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5999044793296754372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/retail-baby.html' title='Retail Baby'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SEdiIAQnSqI/AAAAAAAAAHY/dB8tQMIGEeA/s72-c/Detroit+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-4710761979696036382</id><published>2008-06-04T11:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T11:14:00.515-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'>Summer Hater</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://nataliedee.com/060408/summer-wardrobe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;nataliedee.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Once again, I heart Natalie Dee.   This cartoon is so me.  I am a Summer Hater.  I try to get by without buying summer specific clothing.   I like to find clothing that can work for multiple seasons.  I don't wear shorts, instead I wear dresses, skirts, capris, or I crazily cuff my jeans.  I'll throw on a tee or a tank and away I go.    Maybe if I lived in California, where it's warmer most of the year, I might invest in more summer specific clothing, but it really doesn't make sense living in the Midwest, where winter is three-quarters of the year.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-4710761979696036382?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/4710761979696036382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=4710761979696036382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4710761979696036382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4710761979696036382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/summer-hater.html' title='Summer Hater'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1705611676028851671</id><published>2008-06-04T10:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T11:04:31.476-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Hazards of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I think I am getting Carpal Tunnel.  I haven't been to the doctor, but I did my own self-diagnosis on WebMd last night.    Today I am going to Target to purchase one of those lovely brace dealies.   I've known for twelve years that this is probably inevitable.  I am always typing on my computer and a lot of my jobs have been repetition filled.  It is also my own fault. I am not always very careful how I carry large piles of clothing around at work.  My preferred method is to grab a massively large handful  of hangars between my thumb and my index finger.  Yeah, I know that's not the best, but it's the fastest.   I will have to stop that.  It's just super frustrating.  It's very hard not to use my left hand.  I am a lefty, after all.  Although, it does help that I am ambidextrous.  It's what happens when you grow up in a right handed world.  I can play most sports right or left handed. I was a fierce switch hitter when I played softball.  I can use right handed scissors on my left hand (don't ask).   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  Hopefully, I can cure this by resting my left hand and adjusting my routines.  Cross your fingers... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1705611676028851671?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1705611676028851671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1705611676028851671&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1705611676028851671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1705611676028851671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/06/hazards-of-life.html' title='The Hazards of Life'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6897675296740914339</id><published>2008-05-31T21:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T22:11:27.954-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='television'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='media'/><title type='text'>This is My Confession...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ok, ok.  I've been hiding this secret for far too long.  Granted, it's not as exciting as Usher's confession... but it has potential for causing people's jaws to drop.   Here it goes:  I am not a fan of "Sex and the City" and I don't  get it.   I know, I know.  Everyone on the planet loves the show and has already seen the movie.   It's probably a crime to not like it.   I have only seen a couple of episodes and I really couldn't get into it.  When the show premiered, I was in college and my cynicism and non conformist attitudes were through the roof (I've really mellowed in my old age).   I was pretty much  the Daria of my social group.  I even wore a green army style shirt with my Doc Martens boots.   I found SJP really, really, really annoying and I hated her little voice-overs.  The cynic in me couldn't believe that she was really a writer.   Now,  ten  years later with the release of the movie, I am finding it slightly embarrassing to not be able to partake in conversations with people about SATC.   I am sort of wondering what I missed out on.   It seems like everyone watched it.  It's the universal show for women, young and old alike.   And the fashions.  If nothing else, that would've sucked  me in.  Although, ten years ago, I didn't really have a sophisticated sense of style myself, but I still appreciated crazy outlandish clothing.    Heck, I still liked to wear overalls out in public ( I've stopped that and encourage others to do the same).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I feel like I am caving to peer pressure.   I am super curious and might go see the movie.  I never cave to peer pressure.  I think it's a curiousity about the hype.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So, there's my confession.   I feel better.  Hopefully, Usher felt better, too with his confession.   His was huge: he had a baby by another woman and she's keeping it.  That is so major.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6897675296740914339?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6897675296740914339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6897675296740914339&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6897675296740914339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6897675296740914339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-is-my-confession.html' title='This is My Confession...'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-9169000729225051058</id><published>2008-05-30T08:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T08:19:08.447-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>At Peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For the first time in about six months, I am completely at peace and comfortable with everything in my life.  It's really nice not to be so stressed out and to not get a tension headache everyday.  I hope this can last.   Crossing my fingers... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-9169000729225051058?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/9169000729225051058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=9169000729225051058&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/9169000729225051058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/9169000729225051058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/at-peace.html' title='At Peace'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2895066470496487131</id><published>2008-05-29T17:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T17:22:44.911-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><title type='text'>Who Does Stuff Like This?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today I went down to the  basement to throw in a load of laundry when I discovered that someone has been using my laundry detergent.  There's no way I've used 3/4 of a bottle so quickly.  No way.  I don't do that much laundry.  It has to be my neighbors.  I live in a duplex and  my roommate wouldn't do something like that.   I just don't get it.  If they were out of detergent, please ask me.  I'd be happy to let them use my detergent.  This just strikes me as such immature college behavior.  Back in the days of college, this probably would've started WW III with my roommates.  Of course, back then, it was who used my cookie sheet? Or who ate my chili? I just don't get it.   I would never do something like that without asking.  I guess I'll have to keep my detergent locked up in my apartment.  It's so much more convenient to keep it in the basement, but I can't afford to keep buying more detergent.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;This same sort of behavior is occurring at work, as well.  Someone has been raiding the frig and cupboards and eating other people's food.  Nothing outstanding, either.  Half-eaten, day-old  Subway sandwiches, leftover frozen pizza, leftover salads and yogurt.  Seriously?  I really don't get that.  If you're going to eat someone's food, make it good.  I really don't get this.  It's usually not too hard to figure out who's eating  the food.  Just don't do it!  This behavior is just so odd and childish.  It reminds me of the episode of  "Friends" where Monica makes Ross one of her special sandwiches-- leftover turkey, gravy, and mashed potatoes.   Ross brings the sandwich to work and someone eats it.   Long story short, Ross goes crazy and is fired.   I think this is one of those things I will never understand.  What it comes down to is a lack of respect for other people's property and a general immaturity and serious lameness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2895066470496487131?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2895066470496487131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2895066470496487131&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2895066470496487131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2895066470496487131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/who-does-stuff-like-this.html' title='Who Does Stuff Like This?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5885457869918625849</id><published>2008-05-29T11:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T11:32:03.633-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a good deal'/><title type='text'>J.Crew Style on a Target Budget</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SD7Yhnotw7I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/CerDFm9YMCU/s1600-h/Matt+and+Lisa%27s+Wedding+091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205836291373908914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SD7Yhnotw7I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/CerDFm9YMCU/s320/Matt+and+Lisa%27s+Wedding+091.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I absolutely love J.Crew. I've loved it since I was in high school--back when I was into wool sweaters. About a year ago, J.Crew turned all upscale and the prices reflected this. I still drool over the catalog, but really can't afford a $230 pair of flats made of Italy leather  or $195 cute as hell blazer.   Until now.   I was at Target the other day,  looking at the clearance shoes, when I found the above flats.  They look exactly  like the J.Crew ones, but they were only &lt;strong&gt;$4.98&lt;/strong&gt;! What a steal! I am ok with the fact that they're not made out of Italian satin. In fact, that's probably a good thing.   I could just see myself ruining an pair of Italian satin in about five seconds. I'm  so excited.  They're so pretty.  And very J. Crewish.  And they won't break my bank.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5885457869918625849?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5885457869918625849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5885457869918625849&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5885457869918625849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5885457869918625849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/jcrew-style-on-target-budget.html' title='J.Crew Style on a Target Budget'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SD7Yhnotw7I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/CerDFm9YMCU/s72-c/Matt+and+Lisa%27s+Wedding+091.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8821456381963646520</id><published>2008-05-26T22:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T22:45:22.386-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Have You Seen My Motivation?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I seemed to have lost my motivation.  I last had it while driving home for work.  I was so excited and mentally psyched to  spend all evening working on  my latest Top Secret Project  (to be reveled at a later date).  I worked on it for a little bit, ate dinner, worked on it some more and that was about it.  writer's block hit me.  I know exactly what I want to say, but I can't  connect. So. Very. Frustrating.   I probably aggravated my lack of motivation and writer's block by staring at my computer screen blankly.  Grrr... I am hoping I have better luck tomorrow &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8821456381963646520?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8821456381963646520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8821456381963646520&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8821456381963646520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8821456381963646520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/have-you-seen-my-motivation.html' title='Have You Seen My Motivation?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-287053612191170155</id><published>2008-05-20T09:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T09:30:17.766-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Where Does My Time Go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I really need a 30 hour day.  I just don't feel like I have enough time to get everything done that I need to.   Grrrr....   Maybe just building a time machine would help, too.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-287053612191170155?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/287053612191170155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=287053612191170155&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/287053612191170155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/287053612191170155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/where-does-my-time-go.html' title='Where Does My Time Go?'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8119007268694769016</id><published>2008-05-15T22:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T22:25:12.168-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>National Week of Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This week has been dragging on and on and on and on. It was bad when I thought it was Thursday and it was only Tuesday.  I feel like it's been the longest week on record, which is why I'm affectionately referring to this week as the National Week of Hell.  I'm s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;o glad it's Friday tomorrow and I've got the weekend off.  I seriously might spend  most of my time sleeping.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8119007268694769016?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8119007268694769016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8119007268694769016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8119007268694769016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8119007268694769016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/national-week-of-hell.html' title='National Week of Hell'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-4177456973759424086</id><published>2008-05-13T10:45:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T11:03:07.092-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Lack of Focus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SCm5IaSAvpI/AAAAAAAAAHI/JVSc1w7yTs0/s1600-h/Jackson+Hole+2005+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199890798920908434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SCm5IaSAvpI/AAAAAAAAAHI/JVSc1w7yTs0/s320/Jackson+Hole+2005+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SCm4WqSAvoI/AAAAAAAAAHA/vYuLhPRamC8/s1600-h/thrifting+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This picture really sums up how I'm feeling today. No, I haven't come down with a mad case of rabies.   I have absolutely no focus and I'm way too random.  Which, is a bad thing.  Usually, I embrace randomness, but today  it's driving me nuts.   I don't work until 3 today and  I wanted to take advantage of the extra time to accomplish a long list of tasks.  Sadly, I fear that I'll get nothing done.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just in case you're wondering what the heck I'm doing in the picture, I'll fill you in.... I am helping to clean up the frig.  I was in Jackson Hole, WY with the family  about three years ago and it's the last night and we have to stuff ourselves silly with the food in the frig.  It's better to get sick than to waste food.   I think I have a mouthful of Cool Whip or ice cream.  I can't tell.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ok.  I am going to atttempt to not be the poster child for adult ADD.   &lt;/span&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/6420546361774253693-4177456973759424086?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/4177456973759424086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=4177456973759424086&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4177456973759424086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4177456973759424086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/lack-of-focus.html' title='Lack of Focus'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SCm5IaSAvpI/AAAAAAAAAHI/JVSc1w7yTs0/s72-c/Jackson+Hole+2005+017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5487807274129979511</id><published>2008-05-12T19:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:09:52.410-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Today's Moment of Clarity Brought to You by Soul Asylum</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today while I was driving home from work "Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum was on the radio.  I was never a huge Soul Asylum fan, but for some reason, I resisted the urge to change the station.   Sort of glad that I did.  As I was literally parked on 4th Street headed towards Central, I had this huge realization that this song really describes my life right now.   Who would've ever guess that a song  that was popular twelve years ago, would hit home.  The chorus was  the part that practically screamed at me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Runaway train never going back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Wrong way on a one way track&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Seems like I should be getting somewhere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Somehow I'm neither here nor there." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Wow.   It's as if David Pierner climbed inside my head.  It's just so fitting.  The image of the a runaway train fits so well.  It's my life in a nutshell right now.  It was like it was a wake up call to get my life back on track.   I love it when a song hits so close to home. It is so very comforting.   Right now that's about the best thing ever.  And I have a song from 1994 to thank.  Ahhh....Soul Asylum. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5487807274129979511?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5487807274129979511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5487807274129979511&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5487807274129979511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5487807274129979511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/todays-moment-of-clarity-brought-to-you.html' title='Today&apos;s Moment of Clarity Brought to You by Soul Asylum'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8791862430854527006</id><published>2008-05-05T19:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T19:27:23.697-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><title type='text'>The Post Office Made Me Go Postal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today as part of my running errands kick, I stopped at the post office to get some stamps to mail Mother's Day cards.  I left empty handed.  I couldn't handle the crazy line.  It was about half-way back to the door.  I probably should've waited, but I just can't handle long lines at the post office.  It drives me crazy.  I always get stuck with someone in front of me who doesn't have any idea how it works to mail something.   Or someone is so indecisive if they want Star Wars stamps or flowers.  It's a stamp, just pick one!   No one cares.   I wonder if the massive line was due to the stamp price increase next week.   It has to be.  Or mailing Mother's Day presents.   I'll have to pick a better time to go back.   Maybe I need to practice being patient.  Although, it is the place where I freak out and have little patience.   It makes me want to go postal.  No one wants to see that.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8791862430854527006?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8791862430854527006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8791862430854527006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8791862430854527006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8791862430854527006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/post-office-made-me-go-postal.html' title='The Post Office Made Me Go Postal'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2100728060486348498</id><published>2008-05-03T21:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T21:32:25.849-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><title type='text'>For the Love of Bad Customer Service</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yesterday on my break at work, I got a cup of coffee from Starbucks and went over to For Love, the accessories store of Forever 21.  I am on the hunt for a necklace to go with my dress  for a wedding.   I was in the store for a grand total of ten minutes and no one said a word to me.  There was about four sales associates that were apparently too cool for school to talk to me.  They greeted and acknowledged every other customer in the store.  I was staring at a wall of necklaces when Suzie Sales Associate made her way over to me to inform me that I couldn't have a drink in the store.   She would be happy to hold the drink for me at the counter while I shopped.  WTF.  Great customer service skill. She  had a great totally teen attitude, too.  Nobody else noticed.     My beverage had a lid on it and I wasn't planning on dumping it all over the cheap merchandise.  I could see if I had a big cup of soda sans lid or a big pretzel with a cup of cheese, but I was holding a cup of coffee with a  lid on it.   I was so shocked.  I have never been in a store where you couldn't have a beverage with a lid on it.  I didn't know what  to do.  I told Suzie that I was on my way out anyways.  She was so snotty about it. I wasn't about to leave my drink with her.  She'd probably spill it or put something in it.     I wanted to ask her if her mommy drove her to work.  Or where was the sign about no Food or Drink in the store?    I just can't be that customer no matter how much I want to.   I am partial to the rock star exit of dumping the coffee slowly onto the table of scarves  and knocking the table over.  Sadly, I am not a rock star and cannot do something like that no matter how much I want to.  Plus, I paid money for the coffee and I'd like to enjoy it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I just left.  My coffee didn't taste as good because of rude snotty Suzie.   It really isn't worth it to make a scene with  a snotty teen who makes six dollars an hour.   I can find better jewelry at thrift stores anyways.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2100728060486348498?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2100728060486348498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2100728060486348498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2100728060486348498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2100728060486348498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/for-love-of-bad-customer-service.html' title='For the Love of Bad Customer Service'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8146567100766759851</id><published>2008-05-02T09:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T10:07:28.684-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a good deal'/><title type='text'>Vampire Weekend and Sunglasses</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other day  I finally bought  the Vampire Weekend CD, &lt;em&gt;Vampire Weekend&lt;/em&gt;.   It is my new favorite CD.  I love the happy and poppy sound  of all the songs.   It's the perfect  spring/ summer CD. Especially here in Minnesota, where spring seems like months away.  Vampire Weekend sort of reminds me of Bloc Party, with a slightly retro 60's feel.   They are amazing.     It is one of the few CDs that I've bought recently where I actually like the entire CD.  The best part is Vampire Weekend ended my month  long Radiohead Fest.  I had &lt;em&gt;Ok Computer&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;The Bends&lt;/em&gt; on autorepeat with a bit of &lt;em&gt;In Rainbows&lt;/em&gt; thrown in for good measure.  That's way too much Radiohead for one person.  Trust me.   Shockingly, my mood is better now.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I finally bought myself a pair of prescription sunglasses.  Part of it was the cost and part of it was my general laziness.  Plus,  I didn't realize that you could actually get  fun, trendy, cute frames.  I recall when I was little and my parents wanted me to have prescription sunglasses  and they had an old pair of my glasses turned into sunglasses with the old prescription in them.  Looking back, I applaud my parents' frugalness, but for a teen, that's the kiss of death.  I hated the frames and wearing an old prescription gave me a headache.  I went to the Target Optical center  in my neighborhood Super Target.   I was so surprised at the selection of frames for glasses and sunglasses.  Very fashion forward.   Plus, the employees let you browse.  I was shocked.  I hate how at the Big Box Optical Centers, they pounce on you and won't let go.   I usually have an idea of what  I want and don't need someone else forcing their opinions on me.   I ended up with a fun pair of Nicole Miller frames that are very 80s.    Plus, they have a classic quality about them.  I didn't want to buy a pair of uber trendy Olsen twin sunglasses that would be ugly next year.   In the world of eyeglasses,  it is impossible to find frames and lens for under $300.  Not the case at Target.   So excited.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8146567100766759851?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8146567100766759851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8146567100766759851&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8146567100766759851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8146567100766759851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/05/vampire-weekend-and-sunglasses.html' title='Vampire Weekend and Sunglasses'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-7739387145165379152</id><published>2008-04-30T16:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T16:55:03.641-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a good deal'/><title type='text'>Shoes That Won't Break The Bank</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SBjo5CyjW1I/AAAAAAAAAG4/4D-Ogs2YwIA/s1600-h/cute+shoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195158236870957906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SBjo5CyjW1I/AAAAAAAAAG4/4D-Ogs2YwIA/s320/cute+shoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I found the best deal EVER today at DSW.   These shoes were only $14.98 I couldn't pass them up.  I saw these shoes a couple of months ago and I  loved them, but couldn't justify spending $50 on them.   I love the vintage quality and the fun gold trim.   Plus, they sort of remind me of tap shoes (I've always wanted to be a tap dancer).    I heart patent leather, too. I plan on wearing them to my cousin's wedding next month.  I'm wearing a black and white sheath dress and the shoes will work perfectly.  Very Jackie-O.   The shoes are super comfortable, so I'll actually be able to wear them for the entire time and not have to bring a pair of flats as back up.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/6420546361774253693-7739387145165379152?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/7739387145165379152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=7739387145165379152&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7739387145165379152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7739387145165379152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/shoes-that-wont-break-bank.html' title='Shoes That Won&apos;t Break The Bank'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SBjo5CyjW1I/AAAAAAAAAG4/4D-Ogs2YwIA/s72-c/cute+shoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6910330153816585412</id><published>2008-04-30T10:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T11:06:34.912-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='media'/><title type='text'>Leave Poor Miley Alone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I really feel bad for Miley Cyrus with  the controversy over her &lt;a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/story?id=4736358&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;photo shoot &lt;/a&gt;with Vanity Fair.   The picture is completely in good taste.   It's not slutty at all.  I think it is very tasteful.   I was expecting a Maxim style picture.   When I saw the picture, I thought, "This is what everyone is in an uproar over?" I don't see anything wrong with it.  Poor girl.  She's wrapped in a sheet and is showing about 12 inches of bare back.  Oh my gosh! That is so immoral! Put some clothes on her! Essentially it is the equivalent of  wearing a strapless formal dress.   America is in an uproar over this picture.   People claim that she's not a good role model for kids or the picture is scandalous.    I am so tired of all this.  She didn't do anything wrong.  It's an artsy, tasteful picture.    It's not like she did a spread for Playboy.   But, here comes the Conservative Right ready to jump in and make much ado about nothing.  They've turned it into an issue of teenage girls being too grown up and skanky.  I agree that that's a problem, but Miley isn't fueling it.  She is a so-called role model for kids because she's on television.   Out of all the people kids could look up to, I don't think she's a bad one.   She strikes me as a normal kid.   Parents should be using this as an opportunity to show their kids how Miley doesn't compromise her integrity and expressed herself in a tasteful manner.   It's art.   I am sure these are the same parents that are upset when their child sees a nude statue at an art museum.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Now poor Miley is embarrassed by her picture, which I find unfortunate.  She should be proud of her  picture.  I think Disney brainwashed her.    Not too many people get to work with  Annie  Leibovitz.  And as a 15 year old? Even less.  We're diminishing this great opportunity that Miley had.    Isn't there something else to sensationalize?  Maybe Mischa Barton wore an ugly outfit out in public.   Or Britney tripped getting out of her car.    Now, those are real stories.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6910330153816585412?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6910330153816585412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6910330153816585412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6910330153816585412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6910330153816585412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/leave-poor-miley-alone.html' title='Leave Poor Miley Alone'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8011372995123434589</id><published>2008-04-28T09:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T09:50:18.528-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Coffee Detox</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I love a good cup of coffee with a splash of cream. Lately, though, I have been consuming waaay too much coffee. Take yesterday, for example, I had a cup and a half before I went to work. For my drive to work I drank 3/4 of my travel mug, and with my lunch I had a grande iced coffee. Yep. That's too much coffee for one person. Early in the afternoon, I felt like I was on crack. I had this crazy energy that I couldn't contain. It was horrible. This is not my normal coffee intake. Usually, the most I'll drink is three cups a day. I've just been so burnt out lately, that I feel like I need the extra cup (or two or three) to survive the day. Better yet, a coffee IV would be great. I must find a way to cut back. I can't cut caffeine out of my diet, because I these horrible headaches and I turn into a monster. It really isn't pretty for anyone. This week my goal is to only consume coffee in the am. In the afternoon, if I need a pick me up, I'll have a Vitamin Water or a can of soda. Hopefully, this helps. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8011372995123434589?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8011372995123434589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8011372995123434589&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8011372995123434589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8011372995123434589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/coffee-detox.html' title='Coffee Detox'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-4538297332306547520</id><published>2008-04-26T21:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T21:34:14.411-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This morning I had to scrap snow off my car.  It's almost May.  Can we please have spring? Seriously.  Why does winter have to keep showing up? I am so over winter.  I didn't wear a winter coat today.  I just couldn't bring myself to do it.   I did put on gloves, though.  And a spring jacket.   Perfect attire for scraping snow off my car during a Global Warming Spring.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-4538297332306547520?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/4538297332306547520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=4538297332306547520&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4538297332306547520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4538297332306547520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5024675600281399161</id><published>2008-04-23T20:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T21:06:25.161-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='American Idol'/><title type='text'>Outraged at American Idol</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;At least once a season on "American Idol," I am left dumbfounded at  who America thinks is  talented.   Tonight it  happened again.   I really don't understand what criteria people use for voting.   Maybe the tone deaf and dumb voted.   Seriously.   The bottom two didn't deserve to be in the bottom.  Carly rocked.  She was herself and  "Jesus Christ Superstar"  fit her big voice.   Syesha did a great job with a really obscure song from "Starlight Express."   Little miss wannabe singer songwriter Brooke who  forgot the lyrics and started over is safe.  I just don't understand.   That is not the person I want to be my American Idol.   She caves under pressure.  As someone who has performed myself,I know you don't start over.  I messed up in piano recitals and I forgot lines in plays.  Did I start over? Noooo... I ad-libbed or just kept right on going.   That's what a real performer does.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;ARGH.  Now, I am officially angry.  Carly didn't deserve to go.  I am blaming it on conservative America.  How could Carly be the next American Idol when she has a tattoo?      But, Brooke.  She's so cute and sweet, poor little thing was nervous and forgot her lines.   America likes  the vanilla contestants.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What have I learned from this? I need to vote every week.   Grrr.... Yes, it is just a television show, but it makes me mad when the talented go home too soon and we're left with the boring, bland contestants like Brooke.   Apparently America is too stupid to recognize talent.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5024675600281399161?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5024675600281399161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5024675600281399161&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5024675600281399161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5024675600281399161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/outraged-at-american-idol.html' title='Outraged at American Idol'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-9037608587981429440</id><published>2008-04-21T14:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T15:10:40.789-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snack food'/><title type='text'>Mmm...Donuts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What could possibly be better than Christmas?   Eating a real Dunkin' Donuts donut in my 'hood.  Today I ventured over to Cafe Donuts, 5001 Central Ave NE Columbia Heights.   From the outside it looks like just a regular Ma and Pa donut shop, but on the inside it's all Dunkin' Donuts.   They have all the wonderful varieties of my childhood, too.  I am so excited!  Even better--they still taste the same.   The only thing that's different is I can successfully eat a jelly donut without getting the filling all over me.   As a kid, my parents made me eat those outside or in the garage, so I wouldn't create a big mess all over the house.   I am so glad I  finally found  good quality donuts in Minneapolis.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-9037608587981429440?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/9037608587981429440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=9037608587981429440&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/9037608587981429440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/9037608587981429440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/mmmdonuts.html' title='Mmm...Donuts'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6383556725851981600</id><published>2008-04-20T23:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T23:19:43.390-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>No More Junk Food!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's hard to pin point when it happened, but I've fallen off the healthy eating wagon.   I think it might have been around Easter.   I haven't been eating good, solid, healthy meals lately. I'm not quite sure way.  I have had way too much junk food lately.  I'm blaming the long, crappy, never-ending winter.   And my addiction to  Puff Corn.  Whatever triggered it, it needs to end now.   I am hoping that the warmer weather and better fruits and veggies  being in season might help me eat healthier.  I'm not 22 anymore where I can eat anything without any consequences.  It never helps when the vending machine at work has yummy treats like peanut butter M&amp;amp;M's and Chili Cheese Fritos.    I am being hard on myself because I used to be good about staying away from junk food.   Grrr...  I'm not sure what happened.  I'm going to start eating better, though.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6383556725851981600?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6383556725851981600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6383556725851981600&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6383556725851981600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6383556725851981600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-more-junk-food.html' title='No More Junk Food!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8894890842099759413</id><published>2008-04-19T22:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T22:57:04.670-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Natalie Dee'/><title type='text'>AHHH! The Crazy Cat Lady</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://nataliedee.com/041908/everyone-really-needs-to-watch-out-for-catpeoples-feelings-ok.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;nataliedee.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The cat t-shirt is my favorite part.   It's classic crazy cat lady.  Something I hope to avoid turning into when I am old.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8894890842099759413?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8894890842099759413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8894890842099759413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8894890842099759413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8894890842099759413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/ahhh-crazy-cat-lady.html' title='AHHH! The Crazy Cat Lady'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5175933668064249428</id><published>2008-04-16T18:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T19:04:53.050-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snack food'/><title type='text'>Dunkin Donuts Lives On in MN!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today I discovered from a co-worker that Dunkin' Donuts is hiding from me--right in my 'hood.   I am so excited.  Apparently, there's a donut shop called Donut Time/ Donut Depot on Central Ave. and 46th-ish street in NE Minneapolis/ Columbia Heights.  Donut Time looks just like a Dunkin' Donuts on the inside and sells real, authentic Dunkin' Donuts! This is better than Christmas!  Before you think I'm crazy, I haven't had a Dunkin' Donuts donut in about 12 years.  Since I was in high school.   They are the official donut of my childhood.  Growing up,  there always seemed to be a Dunkin' Donuts on ever corner.  Not anymore.   The past couple of years, I've been on a nostalgia fueled crusade to locate a DD.  I couldn't find one in Detroit and  I'm never in the right area in Chicago to go to one.  All this time, one is practically in my backyard.  I can almost smell the Munchkin donut holes.  This weekend, I'm going to check this place out.  I only hope this isn't another thing that should stay in my childhood like Spaghetti O's and  Dippin' Sticks.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5175933668064249428?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5175933668064249428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5175933668064249428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5175933668064249428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5175933668064249428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/dunkin-donuts-lives-on-in-mn.html' title='Dunkin Donuts Lives On in MN!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8297982970305188315</id><published>2008-04-15T14:04:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T14:15:42.681-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iPod'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Shhh! Don't Scare Spring Away!  (And Other Randomness)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I really hate to even mention this, but I think it's safe to say that Winter is over with! Yay! Today is such a beautiful day! After last week, I thought Winter would never leave.   Especially after driving home last Thursday night in a real life slushie machine.  Yuck.   I am so excited to put my winter coats away and bring out my spring jackets.   Not to mention spring clothes.  I am tired of my winter clothes.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Happy "Juno" DVD release day! I already bought my copy.  Yeah, I know, I am such a dork.   My cousin even pre-ordered it from Best Buy and got it yesterday.   I bought the special addition that come with the shooting script.  I am so excited to read that.  I am hoping it inspires my own writing.   Plus, it comes with a digital copy for my iPod.  I love special features like that.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Also, Happy Tax Day! Woo-hoo.  My taxes went in the mail on Saturday. I can't wait for my refund.   Actually, what I really can't wait for is the Economic Stimulus Refund.   I heart free money.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8297982970305188315?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8297982970305188315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8297982970305188315&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8297982970305188315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8297982970305188315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/shhh-dont-scare-spring-away-and-other.html' title='Shhh! Don&apos;t Scare Spring Away!  (And Other Randomness)'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6448800192531281552</id><published>2008-04-14T22:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T23:23:17.423-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Another Quarter Life Crisis Averted!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.nataliedee.com/"&gt;&lt;img height="604" alt="natalie dee" src="http://www.nataliedee.com/041308/tiger-style.jpg" width="600" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nataliedee.com/"&gt;nataliedee.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A couple of weeks ago I almost had another Quarter Life Crisis. I've had two official ones and several unofficial ones. I'm just the Quarter Life Crisis Queen. I guess I figured that wasn't enough and I should have one more before I turn thirty. Seriously, can I just turn thirty right now and leave my twenties behind? I can't take much more of this. I am my own worst enemy. I had myself so upset and frustrated with my life that I was contemplating joining a circus and traveling around the country. Ok. That last part is an exaggeration. I would never join the circus. I hate clowns. I really wasn't thinking very rationally or looking at the big picture. Luckily, a friend was able to talk some sense into me and I worked my way out of a full-blown QLC. It just wasn't a very pleasant experience filled with lots of crabbiness, emotional eating, and Radiohead music.   Things seem to be much better since I got the last  mini QLC out of me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ugh. I just need to turn thirty. A little less than four months to go! Seriously, my thirties have to be better than my twenties, right? Thirty is the new Twenty. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6448800192531281552?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6448800192531281552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6448800192531281552&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6448800192531281552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6448800192531281552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/another-quarter-life-crisis-averted.html' title='Another Quarter Life Crisis Averted!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5763567010533037906</id><published>2008-04-10T10:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T10:59:26.164-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>I Just Don't Get It...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is going to make me very unpopular with the local music fans of the Twin Cities, but I don't care.   Last night I saw local band turned national  music media darlings, Tapes n Tapes on Conan.   I was unimpressed.  The only word I can use to describe them is: overrated.   They're not bad, but they're not great.  They're just meh at best.    They just don't seem to live up to their hype.    Tapes n Tapes is really nothing special.  They seem the same as every other Indie Rock band.  Everyone else in this town seems to think they are the best band ever.  I just don't understand it.   I've never understood it.  I saw them before they broke nationally (before Erik Applewick jumped on the bandwagon), at the Hexagon, and I just thought they were ok.  Mediocre at best.    I would never go out of my way to see them, but they also don't make me want to rip out my eardrums, either.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5763567010533037906?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5763567010533037906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5763567010533037906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5763567010533037906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5763567010533037906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-just-dont-get-it.html' title='I Just Don&apos;t Get It...'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6813646565219470434</id><published>2008-04-08T18:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T18:53:27.553-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Natalie Dee'/><title type='text'>So True</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://nataliedee.com/040808/obviously-these-folks-have-never-heard-of-ROADKILL-HATS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nataliedee.com/"&gt;nataliedee.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yet another gem from Natalie Dee. I heart her!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6813646565219470434?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6813646565219470434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6813646565219470434&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6813646565219470434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6813646565219470434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-true.html' title='So True'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1306188212684225231</id><published>2008-04-06T22:29:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T22:45:29.190-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Super Hack</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I would like to add Timbaland to my list of people in the music industry who drive me nuts (he's in good company with Adam Levine and Nickelback). This might seem to come out of nowhere, but he has completely ruined the One Republic song, "Apologize." It is so much better without his annoying little touches. All he added to the song is a couple of beats and a "hey, hey." I am sorry but a small child without a musical background could come up with that nonsense. When the song is listed on the charts or played on the radio he receives most, if not all of the credit. It's credited as Timbaland featuring One Republic or my personal fave, simply Timbaland. Did Timbaland write the song? Noooo. Oh, but he arranged it and ruined a good song. Yes, that requires full credit. The song is great on it's own. It's a nice, poppy ballad a la Journey. It really didn't need the help of Mr. Super Producer Timbaland. Ugh. Every time I hear the original version I hear the stupid beats and the "hey, hey," they're engraved in my brain. I've been brainwashed by Timbaland. Someone help me! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1306188212684225231?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1306188212684225231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1306188212684225231&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1306188212684225231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1306188212684225231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/super-hack.html' title='Super Hack'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5425464974397119007</id><published>2008-04-05T19:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T20:02:47.544-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Spring Cleaning!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today I finally got motivated for some spring cleaning.  Back in December I went through my closet and got rid of all the clothes I never wear, but I never went through my dresser.   I managed  to fill three grocery bags full of goodies that I don't wear anymore.  In fact, I put less back into my dresser than I took out.  Hooray! I  had tanks and tees that were in horrible shape and some that I just don't wear anymore.  I was also shocked to discover that I own more leggings and tights than American Apparel.  I don't even know how that happened.  I think it's one of those things that I can't pass up when they are on sale.  Note to self: next time I should.  I have more tights/leggings than I have skirts.  I went through my purses, too.  This was a really hard thing for me to do.  I always think  I need to have a Rubbermaid size tote with purses on hand.  Today after going through the tote, I realized that I have the strangest collection of purses EVER.  They run the gamut from totally teen to  old  woman.  I have no idea how that happened.  It was scary, though.  I uncovered one of those initial purses and  a beige Sak purse that looked like something a 60 year woman would carry.  I also have an absurd amount of silly going out bags that look ridiculously cheap.   Lately, I've been  very cautious about clothing purchases.  I don't want to end up with the scary wasteland of clothes ever again.    It does feel good to get rid of all the crap.  More importantly, I have a clear idea of what I need to buy for summer.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5425464974397119007?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5425464974397119007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5425464974397119007&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5425464974397119007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5425464974397119007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/04/spring-cleaning.html' title='Spring Cleaning!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6085867308747257715</id><published>2008-03-27T11:23:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T11:54:31.825-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><title type='text'>Oprah Says Jump Off a Cliff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It really amazes me how women are so brainwashed by Oprah. Seriously. Oprah could tell women to rub dog poop on their faces to look younger and everyone would. There's something about Oprah that makes her the expert on everything. &lt;em&gt;If Oprah has UGGS and a Juicy tracksuit, then I should too! Oprah loves Beloved. It's my favorite book, too! Oprah endorses Obama, I like him too!&lt;/em&gt; I just don't get it.    I used to think it was just stupid women who live in the backhills of Arkansas, but smart women buy into Oprah, too.  Maybe because I like to think for myself or I see through Oprah's act, but this doesn't work on me. I am also highly cynical and can see through her marketing ploys. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other day, while checking out the sales section in the shoe department at Kohl's, I saw Oprah's power in action. I I overheard a middle-aged women say, " I&lt;em&gt; really should get these leopard print flats. Oprah says that every woman needs a pair of leopard print flats&lt;/em&gt;." I was so shocked, that I had to look around the aisle to see if this was true. It was real. Her friend agreed and she bought the shoes. Wow. That's brainwashing. I knew Oprah was powerful, but to see it in action in suburban Minnesota solidified the power of Oprah on women. To clarify, there's a big difference between seeing something on television and wanting it because you like it than buying something because Oprah said you need them. I'd much rather hear someone say, "oh, I should get these leopard print shoes; they're really fun" than "Oprah told me to buy these." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The influence of celebrity scares me. Women should be thinking for themselves, not doing things because they come with Oprah's seal of approval. What will women do because Oprah does it? How far will they go? Will they go get a trainer, a cook, and a huge condo because Oprah has these things? Will people buy 10 Juicy track suits because Oprah has them? Would you jump off a cliff because Oprah says it's OK? Not me. I'm thinking for myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6085867308747257715?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6085867308747257715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6085867308747257715&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6085867308747257715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6085867308747257715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/oprah-says-jump-off-cliff.html' title='Oprah Says Jump Off a Cliff'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2188080162302899186</id><published>2008-03-27T11:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T11:20:55.639-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advertising'/><title type='text'>I Love This Ad!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;IBM has the greatest series of ads, "Stop Talking, Start Doing." This &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ziOG_GHNVq0"&gt;one&lt;/a&gt;, "Ideating" is my favorite. There's a series of about four or five ads that are constantly played on the NCAA tournament. I think everyone has worked with someone who is all about the buzz words. They're the person that is all talk and no action. It always amazes me how people don't see through the bs. Buzz words don't solve problems. It's like the buzz words brainwash them. The series of ads are just genius. Very well done and so very funny. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2188080162302899186?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2188080162302899186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2188080162302899186&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2188080162302899186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2188080162302899186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-love-this-ad.html' title='I Love This Ad!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2152003267938283669</id><published>2008-03-26T10:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T10:57:50.465-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a good deal'/><title type='text'>Dress Hunt '08</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've got two weddings to attend this summer.  That means I need to find dresses to wear to them.   I do have some cute sun dresses that I could wear, but  I am just tired of them.   Dresses are such a  pain to shop for.  I admit, I am a bit particular.  I want something unique and something I might actually wear again.    It just seems like all the dresses out there fit into two categories: super skanky teeny bopper or old lady.   Since I fit into neither category, it makes it more challenging.   Over the weekend, I thought I had found the perfect dress.   I was shopping with the relatives at Kohl's when I stumbled upon the cutest &lt;a href="http://www.kohls.com/kohlsStore/landingpages/simplyveraverawang/apparel/dresses/PRD~317076/Simply+Vera+Vera+Wang+Belted+Dress.jsp"&gt;Simply Vera dress&lt;/a&gt;.  I loved the slightly retro style and the color combo is perfect for my hair and complexion.    I could actually see myself wearing this again.   Plus, if the weather was unpredictable, I could throw a blazer or sweater over it.    The best part was the dress was on sale and I  had a 15% off coupon.   I tried the dress on and it fit me like a mumu.    I had plenty of room for a mom pouch.    Perfect for playing crabby old lady.  All I needed was a pair of terry cloth slippers.   I was so mad.   The kicker: I tried on the XS.   I am small, but I am not Olsen twin small.    I just assumed that the dress would be cut on the small side, since it was Vera Wang.  I forgot I was at Kohl's.   It's just so strange.  I can usually fit into misses sized clothes.    Sigh.  It looks like dress hunt '08 continues.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2152003267938283669?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2152003267938283669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2152003267938283669&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2152003267938283669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2152003267938283669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/dress-hunt-08.html' title='Dress Hunt &apos;08'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1614172349258742930</id><published>2008-03-21T19:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T19:46:48.842-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Happy Easter from Scary Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/R-RVJef3HLI/AAAAAAAAAGo/w6UUWZgd0sA/s1600-h/scary+cat+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180359092676795570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/R-RVJef3HLI/AAAAAAAAAGo/w6UUWZgd0sA/s320/scary+cat+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nothing says Easter like a little kitten with a disturbing look on her face.  It makes me chuckle.  If I was a little kid, this image would terrify me.  It is better suited for Halloween  than Easter. What was the marketing gurus at Starbursts thinking?  Hmmm.... cute little ducks and bunnies are too much of an  Easter cliche! We want a kitten with a psycho look on her face.   What's wrong with fluffy? Did she eat too much tuna or did her owners abandon her?  My guess is she has an angry look on her face because  someone didn't finish their jellybeans.  This Easter make sure scary cat doesn't get you; eat all your jellybeans.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;    Happy Easter! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1614172349258742930?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1614172349258742930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1614172349258742930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1614172349258742930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1614172349258742930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-easter-from-scary-cat.html' title='Happy Easter from Scary Cat'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/R-RVJef3HLI/AAAAAAAAAGo/w6UUWZgd0sA/s72-c/scary+cat+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-2961016436347902822</id><published>2008-03-21T16:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T16:37:46.787-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my sanity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><title type='text'>Go Away Winter!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I thought I was done dressing like Marge Gunderson a la "Fargo" apparently it's not quite time to put away my parka and my winter boots.   Seriously, I am done with winter! No more.  I guess it's not really that bad because the snow won't stick around.   Today was the last straw having to shovel snow.    It's just a pain to keep switching from winter coat to spring coat to parka in the course of a week.   I do realize that it is Minnesota and it can pretty much snow until Memorial Day; I'd just like to enjoy spring for a change.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;While I was outside shoveling the sidewalk, a man was attempting to plow the streets/ sidewalk, but was having a horrible time maneuvering the truck (he kept having to backing up, inching forward,  repeat several times move).  I sort of felt bad for him, until I got a little closer.   He was having a conversation on his cell phone.  Seriously.  If you're going to be plowing anything, perhaps it would be easier to not talk on your phone.  Duh.   It did make me chuckle.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-2961016436347902822?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/2961016436347902822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=2961016436347902822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2961016436347902822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/2961016436347902822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/go-away-winter.html' title='Go Away Winter!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-7442261799960667502</id><published>2008-03-19T21:38:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T21:59:18.889-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snack food'/><title type='text'>Puffcorn: The Lazyman's Popcorn</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am hopelessly addicted to &lt;a href="http://www.olddutchfoods.com/our_products/product.php?id=9"&gt;Old Dutch's Puffcorn&lt;/a&gt;. It is the best stuff ever! I swear it has to be laced with crack because it is so addicting. Puffcorn combines the salty, buttery taste of popcorn with the air-puffed goodness of a cheesy poof. It's super cheap,too. Target sells a big ass bag for $2.30. The other night I ate half a bag while watching television. The only problem with Puffcorn is I can't stop eating it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-7442261799960667502?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/7442261799960667502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=7442261799960667502&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7442261799960667502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7442261799960667502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/puffcorn-lazymans-popcorn.html' title='Puffcorn: The Lazyman&apos;s Popcorn'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1223548227649916168</id><published>2008-03-11T10:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T10:11:24.465-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screenplay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daylight Savings Time'/><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Daylight Saving Time is still kicking my ass.  Last night I couldn't fall asleep at all!  Once I did fall asleep, I kept waking up every couple of hours like a senior citizen.  Ugh.   It was awful.   This morning I had the hardest time getting out of bed and felt like I had been up for three days.   So tired of this! I just want to feel normal.  Hopefully, this ends soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I worked on my screenplay yesterday. I wrote four pages and I planned out the plot.   I haven't written any new scenes since December.  It feels good.   I think I was motivated by "Juno."  I am hoping I can keep this up.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1223548227649916168?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1223548227649916168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1223548227649916168&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1223548227649916168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1223548227649916168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8445961171082910400</id><published>2008-03-10T22:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T22:27:44.943-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Juno</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I finally got around to seeing "Juno" today.  Wow.  It was fabulous.  I was so amazed.  It literally brought me to tears because it was such a well-done movie.  When it was over, I was a bit sad.  I seriously could've watched it again.   It's well-written and well-acted.  It is the best teen-pregnancy movie I've ever seen.  It has such a fresh, new take on teenage pregnancy.   And it wasn't just another teenage comedy, either.  Good realistic teenage characters.    It had such heart and really explained teenage life in suburbia.  I was so impressed.  Allison Janney had the perfect "mom" outfits; they really reminded me of my own Mom's wardrobe of comfy clothing.   The casting was perfect.  I loved Jason Bateman and Jennifer Garner as the yuppie couple.   Ellen Page is simply amazing.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I really liked the Midwestern suburbia touches of the movie.  It is so dead-on.  Juno's house has the homey cluttered quality.  Her step-mom clearly shops at JCP and Sears.  The family has a mini-van.  Juno and her friends play pranks on each other.  They drink slushies.      Yeah, people probably do these things on the east coast,  but there's this indescribable Midwestern quality about the movie that made me nostalgic for my own childhood in Midwestern suburbia.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It was nice to finally see the movie and be able to form my own opinions about the movie.  I don't understand why people don't think the dialogue wasn't  realistic for teens.  Juno is  a smart. sassy teenager, of course she's going to talk different than an average kid.  People also took issue with the catch phrases.  That's another part of teenage vernacular.   And Diablo really deserved the Oscar.   It is so well-written.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I left the theater so inspired to work on my own writing.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8445961171082910400?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8445961171082910400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8445961171082910400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8445961171082910400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8445961171082910400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/juno.html' title='Juno'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-8596621983836979121</id><published>2008-03-10T11:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T22:28:57.391-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daylight Savings Time'/><title type='text'>Daylight Savings Time= Ugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am not a big fan of Daylight Savings Time. I know, I know, we're doing it for those poor kids in Indiana who had to wait for the school bus in the dark. The horror. I do enjoy having it be lighter longer, but it is really hard for my body to get used to it. This phenomenon started a couple of years ago. It must be a side effect of getting old. It seriously takes me a week to get used to DLST. This morning I woke up and felt like crap. I felt like I'd been up late drinking and was horribly hungover. Except, I went to bed early and haven't had any alcohol in days. After a cup of coffee, the pseudo-hangover effect went away, but I still feel like I'm running in my own time zone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The weird thing is I don't really get jet-lagged when I fly. Granted, I've never left the US, but whenever I end up in the Eastern time zone, I never have a problem adjusting. I have a feeling that my DLST adjustment is psychological. There I said it. This year, I am doing my best to trick myself into not thinking about DLST. It worked yesterday when I had to work at 8 am, after working until 12 am, the night before. Yesterday, I didn't even think about the fact that I was getting up at 5 am instead of 6 am. That actually helped. I was a bit tired and crabby at work, but it really helped in my survival. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;At least spring seems to be lurking right around the corner. It's supposed to be in the 40's  tomorrow. Woo-hoo! For us Minnesotans, that means a heat wave! Break out the shorts. I am really looking forward to wearing spring jackets. I am tired of my winter coats. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-8596621983836979121?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/8596621983836979121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=8596621983836979121&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8596621983836979121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/8596621983836979121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/daylight-savings-time-ugh.html' title='Daylight Savings Time= Ugh'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1590987628909849519</id><published>2008-03-06T11:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T11:13:11.681-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Sad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yesterday  I was shocked and saddened to &lt;a href="http://www.startribune.com/entertainment/movies/16265911.html"&gt;find out &lt;/a&gt;that the Oak Street Cinema is more than likely closing its doors in May.   I love that theater.  I used to go there quite a bit in college.   When I lived in T-Hall, it was practically in my backyard.  They  hosted the Minneapolis- Saint Paul International Film Fest and other cool events.  I love old theaters with character.  It makes watching movies a  much better experience than at the 24 screen multi-plex.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  I just hate it when old buildings like that get closed and torn down in order to build more housing.   I wish that someone could save it and if they don't show movies there, they could turn it into a restaurant or a club (sorta of a la the Varsity Theater).   I'll have to make sure that I make it there one last time before it closes.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1590987628909849519?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1590987628909849519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1590987628909849519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1590987628909849519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1590987628909849519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/sad.html' title='Sad'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-895472398401862441</id><published>2008-03-05T19:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T19:16:38.172-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Road Rage Minnesota Style</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This morning my psychic abilities kicked in and told me to leave for work extra early.  Good thing I did, because it took me about 35 minutes to go 2  miles.   Normally, I could get myself to work in that amount of time.  Yikes.   I just don't understand you, silly Minnesotans: why does a dusting of snow cause people to forget how to drive and just drive stupid? One would think that we would be  old pros.   Seriouly.  It's the one thing that  miffs me.   And makes me crabby.   Grrr....   At least I managed to arrive at work on time and in one piece.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-895472398401862441?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/895472398401862441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=895472398401862441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/895472398401862441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/895472398401862441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/road-rage-minnesota-style.html' title='Road Rage Minnesota Style'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1111280797424818269</id><published>2008-03-02T21:37:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T21:53:58.419-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='television'/><title type='text'>Yet Another Reason Why Tina Fey Rocks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I know I'm a little late with posting about this, but Tina Fey made her return to SNL last Saturday.  If you haven't watched her "Weekend Update" segment, you need to watch it &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/index.shtml#mea=221773"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.   Seriously.  The Hillary part was the best--and so true.  Especially the part about women doing what "Oprah" tells them to do (don't even get me started on her).   What I love the most about Tina Fey is she's not afraid to speak her mind and tell it like it is.   Everything she said is so true.  Women don't like other women that are in a position of power or who are outspoken or who get things done.  I don't get that.  Women should be working together not against each other . I  completely agree that "bitch is the new black." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1111280797424818269?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1111280797424818269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1111280797424818269&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1111280797424818269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1111280797424818269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/03/yet-another-reason-why-tina-fey-rocks.html' title='Yet Another Reason Why Tina Fey Rocks'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-6354367404082951390</id><published>2008-02-28T16:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T16:40:32.671-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screenplay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>It's baaack</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It's happening again.  I've got a nasty case of writer's block.   Argh.  I was so excited to have today off.  I was planning on writing for most of the day.  But, noooo writer's block has to show up and ruin the day.   It's not like I don't have ideas, 'cause I've got plenty.  I just can't make it happen.  I've been staring at my screenplay on  my computer screen for an hour and I haven't written a word.  Grrrr... I am going to do some dishes and make some coffee.  I hope that helps.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-6354367404082951390?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/6354367404082951390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=6354367404082951390&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6354367404082951390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/6354367404082951390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-baaack.html' title='It&apos;s baaack'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-4143782586561784105</id><published>2008-02-28T11:36:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T12:31:57.813-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thrifting'/><title type='text'>Shopping Tales</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In between my battle with the flu, I was able to sneak in some shopping. Christine and I checked out the &lt;a href="http://www.buffaloexchange.com/"&gt;Buffalo Exchange &lt;/a&gt;that just opened up at 27th and Lyndale in Uptown. I was really excited because I've heard good things about Buffalo Exchanges. Unfortunately, I left somewhat disappointed. Word on the street is that Buffalo Exchanges carry designer and vintage apparel. Not the Minneapolis one. The store was packed with Target, JCP, GAP, Forever 21, and Old Navy castaways. Many of the garments were priced higher than their actual retail price and looked like someone dragged them behind their cars for miles. I was expecting Marc Jacobs, Ralph Lauren, Betsey Johnson, Chloe, etc. I would've settled for Free People.  Even vintage Marshall Fields, JCP or Sears would've been a treat.  Valu Thrift and Unique have a better selection of clothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The shoe selection was pretty decent and reasonably priced. I found a pair of classic black canvas Vans for only $15. They were in good shape--maybe worn once. I didn't buy them because I really don't need anymore sneakers. Ahhh.... restraint. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What really got me was the customer service. As a seasoned retail veteran, I am understanding to sales associates having bad days or simply being too overworked to go above and beyond the call of duty. What I don't tolerate is non-existent, appalling levels of poor customer service. We were greeted  with a feeble "hello" when we walked in the door, but that was the extent of the customer service.  Most of the sales associates were too concerned with prancing around in the little outfits they were modeling to even say hi.   I am not a high-maintenance shopper, but  a little acknowledgement is always nice. Especially when its a new store.   Christine and I both got the too cool for school Uptown hipster vibe. I noticed one associate eying me up and down with a nasty look on her face.  Apparently, shopping shouldn't be done in a funnelneck sweatshirt and jeans. The kicker was the line at the register for about five minutes. No one noticed, the associates were too into their modelling and staring down the customers. The last time I checked, the name of the retail game is making money. Finally someone came over and rang everyone up.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I did find a cool kelly green leather jacket for $12.50. Here it is: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172091284452697986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/R8b1nsuyZ4I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/AMXi2iytp8Q/s320/spring+thrifting+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The picture really doesn't do it justice.   It's made of super-soft leather and is perfectly broken in.  I love it when I don't have to break in a jacket.   And it'll be great for St. Patty's Day.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I will probably give the Buffalo Exchange another chance.  It was their opening weekend and they might have been picked over, however, I can't excuse poor customer service.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Last weekend,  I checked out one of my favorite stores, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rewindminneapolis.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rewind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, in NE Minneapolis.   They have an excellent selection of vintage clothing and lack the hipster attitude.    I can always find something there.   Here's what I found: &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172091293042632594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/R8b1oMuyZ5I/AAAAAAAAAGY/r7lq6gCATKw/s320/spring+thrifting+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The denim vest is the coolest vest ever! The brand is Country by Loretta Lynn.    How cool is that?  I never knew that Loretta Lynn had a line of clothes.  I love the 80's country grandma trucker look. The bag I couldn't pass up.  I had a tan one when I was little that I carried my piano books in.  I also found a cute little panda pin.  All of that cost me $20.   Hooray! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The moral of my shopping tales is shop with your money.   Yes, I did buy a jacket at Buffalo Exchange.  I doubt though, that I'll make a habit of shopping there.   I'd rather support stores that don't have the too cool for school attitude. Fashion isn't just for the hipsters; it's for everyone.   I put up with enough  bad attitudes  when I'm on the other side of the register (I handle it all with a smile and kindness) that I don't need to deal with them when I'm shopping.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-4143782586561784105?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/4143782586561784105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=4143782586561784105&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4143782586561784105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/4143782586561784105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/02/shopping-tales.html' title='Shopping Tales'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/R8b1nsuyZ4I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/AMXi2iytp8Q/s72-c/spring+thrifting+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-5820473412927238428</id><published>2008-02-27T19:26:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T19:51:26.263-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='survey'/><title type='text'>Hooray for a Survey!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here's a survey for you.... I've never done one of those on my blog...   I got this one from &lt;a href="http://www.cathweber.blogspot.com/"&gt;Catherine's blog.  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1.  What were you doing 10 years ago? In 1998? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was a Sophomore at the U studying English and Spanish.  Well... those were  my  "declared" majors.    I liked to unofficially change my mind every week.    I was freelancing for  &lt;em&gt;the Minnesota Daily&lt;/em&gt;  in my spare time.  I also didn't get enough sleep and drank way  too much coffee and beer.  I got daily naps in whatever boring gen ed. I had.... I think it would've been "Rocks for Jocks" .   I spent lots of my time procrastinating.  Ahh... those were the days.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last year?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I had just finished school and I was coasting.  Trying to figure out what to do with my life. And as always, trying to set the world on fire and not myself.   I was enjoying having more "free time" and a steady paycheck.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.  What are your five favorite snacks? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Popcorn, popcorn and more popcorn.    I could eat my weight in popcorn.  I love it! I also like apples, chips and salsa,  cereal, and ice cream. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.  Five Favorite "Toys?" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My computer, my iPod, a notebook and a good pen, my imagination, and my  journal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.  What  I like to do&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Writing, reading, watching television,  sleeping,  thrifting, watching movies, and playing Nancy Drew.      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.  My bad habits &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am a procrastinator, a nail bitter, I take on too much, and I'm my own worst critic.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-5820473412927238428?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/5820473412927238428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=5820473412927238428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5820473412927238428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/5820473412927238428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/02/hooray-for-survey.html' title='Hooray for a Survey!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-7176964724661290537</id><published>2008-02-27T18:59:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T19:15:45.073-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='academy awards'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Bad Blogger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have been a horrible blogger lately.  I don't know why.  It might have been the awful flu I came down with last week.  You know, the one that EVERYONE had.  It knocked me off my feet for two days and has taken until  this week to sort of feel back to normal.   My appetite has been way off.  I've always been a good eater.  Last week, I could barely eat two meals a day.  A package of Quaker Oatmeal was too much to eat for breakfast.  A can of soup was enough for dinner.  Totally not normal for me.  I found that I didn't really need/want caffeine, either.  A cup of coffee was just enough for breakfast (I normally drink two or three cups).   All of that is slowly coming back.   Very bizarre. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The Academy Awards always serve as a major inspiration for me and this year was no exception.   I was so excited for Diablo Cody.  I really wanted her to win, but I totally didn't expect it.   And the Cohen Brothers really cleaned up.  I loved how Joel thanked everyone for "sharing a little piece of the sandbox" with them.  I have always loved the Cohen Brothers and it is so obvious that they have such a love  of  writing and making movies.   Like the Cohen Brothers, I've been writing ever  since I can remember.  It's a great love of writing that developed when I was organizing neighborhood plays in elementary school.   The story about how they went to the Minneapolis Airport to make a movie about Henry Kissinger was hilarious.  It reminded me of something I would've done as a kid.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I am hoping that my return to normalcy health wise and the Oscars can motivate me to spend more time on my own writing.  It's been suffering lately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-7176964724661290537?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/7176964724661290537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=7176964724661290537&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7176964724661290537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/7176964724661290537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/02/bad-blogger.html' title='Bad Blogger'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-1805906792044388546</id><published>2008-02-08T11:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T11:44:21.231-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a good deal'/><title type='text'>I Love a Good Deal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other day I  got my eyes checked.   My perscription changed sightly, so I got to pick out new glasses.  Hooray!  I heart glasses.   I've been wearing them for more than half of my life.  Although, I hated them as a kid, as an adult they are pretty cool. Plus, there's the minor detail that I could never, ever put a contact in my eye.   Not even if someone tied me down and put them in my eyes for me.   I have eye issues.  I ran into a tree when I was three (don't ask; long story) and got seven stitches right above my eye.  I haven't been the same about my eyes since. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyways, back to the new glasses.   I looked at a major national big box glasses emporium and was shocked at the prices.  They used to have a really nice selection of moderately priced frames.  Not anymore.  It's all high-end designer frames.   Seriously, who needs Versace, D&amp;amp;G or Burberry frames? I don't.   Ralph Lauren? Enticing, but no.    The frames alone ranged from $200-$300.  &lt;strong&gt;Just for the frames&lt;/strong&gt;.  YIKES! By the time you've tacked on the anti glare coating, scratch resistant coating, etc.  the purchase would be around  $500 dollars.   They did have two rows of "cheap" frames, but they looked really cheap.  I politely exited.    I went to &lt;a href="http://www.jcpeyes.com/"&gt;JCP optical&lt;/a&gt;.   I found two super cute frames for less than the price of one pair of glasses at the big box retailer.  I love a good deal. I would much rather have two pairs than one pair of Burberry glasses.  I saved over $300 on two pairs of glasses.  Woo hoo!   The lesson learned here is to shop around.  Check out JCP and Target, they have much better deals.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-1805906792044388546?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/1805906792044388546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=1805906792044388546&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1805906792044388546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/1805906792044388546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-love-good-deal.html' title='I Love a Good Deal'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-711435977080410976</id><published>2008-02-08T10:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T11:19:36.001-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Stop the Caucus Complaining!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am really tired of hearing people complain about their caucus experiences this past Tuesday.   &lt;em&gt;They ran out of ballots! I voted on a post-it note!&lt;/em&gt;  The horror.   &lt;em&gt;I had to wait in a really long line that went around the block nine times.  &lt;/em&gt;Oh, no!  &lt;em&gt;It was really cold waiting in the really long line that went around the block nine times. &lt;/em&gt;  -Sniff-.   &lt;em&gt;I was there for three hours! I missed "American Idol."&lt;/em&gt;  It's called TiVo.   To me, these complaints seems pety and small.   And very selfish.  There are so many  countries where people don't have the freedom to vote or if they do, they have to fight violence to go vote.   What happened on Tuesday was a great example of democracy in action.  I think it is so cool that there was a record turnout.  It shows that Minnesotans take their politics seriously and aren't going to sit back and wait for change.    It is especially great that younger voters got out and rocked the vote (caucus).   This is what people should be focused on; not a couple miscalculations of the turnout.  Unfortunately, I was unable to go caucus.  I had to work that night and I couldn't find someone to switch with.  I was pretty sad about it.    I know that if I had the chance to go, it would've been exciting.  I'm a bit of a dork and I love to go vote/ caucus.  It makes me feel like I'm doing my part.    Ever since I turned eighteen, I've taken every opportunity to go vote.  It's our duty as Americans.   Lines and make shift ballots are so minor.   Get over it.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-711435977080410976?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/711435977080410976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=711435977080410976&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/711435977080410976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/711435977080410976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/02/stop-caucus-complaining.html' title='Stop the Caucus Complaining!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6420546361774253693.post-3858395279329931799</id><published>2008-01-30T09:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T10:07:35.871-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screenplay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Me Write Pretty One Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The other day I was reflecting back on my early 20's and I realized that somewhere between graduating from college and loosing my job, I lost my love of writing. This had never occurred to me before. It was pretty shocking to work through this. I've been an avid reader and writer since I was little. I was always writing. How do you wrap your finger around something like this? Even in college, I was actively writing. I was one of the "weird" ones who enjoyed writing papers. I even helped my friends write papers. I kept a journal and I freelanced for my college newspaper. I loved creative writing classes and wished I had majored in creative writing instead of English Literature. My senior paper was a screenplay about a bunch of teens who get trapped in a grocery store during a blizzard. The only logical explanation I can come to is my crazy draw to the business world. I loved suits. I wanted to find my spot in corporate America and I somehow decided that the account side of Advertising was where I wanted to be. My love of suits mixed with my Dad's practicality pushed me towards the business world. I suppressed my creative side. I recall my super senior year of college (yes, it took me five years to graduate), a professor asked me what my plans were after college. I said I was going to work in Advertising. She told me that I really should pursue writing. I, of course, didn't listen. I was a naive 22 year old, who thought Advertising was the way to go...the way to make tons and tons of money. That was the beginning of my loss of my love of writing. Looking back, this was the time that my love of writing, should've gotten me through my eight months of unemployment and my decision to go back to school to get an MA in Education. It didn't. I was too hell-bent on finding a job and spending as little money as possible. I was in survival mode. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Four years later, I somehow managed to find my passion for writing. I was back in school and working in retail, where I witnessed several scenes a day that were too ridiculous to not share with others. I was 26 years old working at a big box retailer with a bunch of old woman, who really didn't understand me, and I certainly didn't understand them. This situation practically screamed, "write about me!" With the encouragement of a friend,  I decided that a screenplay about retail would be the best thing to write about.  That's when my passion for writing returned and it hasn't left. I have the same joy and excitement that I had as a 17 year old co-editor of my school newspaper. In fact, I think the passion is stronger. The past year, I've really decided that writing is what I want to do with my life. I have to have some sort of writing outlet or I go nuts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Writing truly is what saves me. It's what makes me happy. It's the one thing that I am meant to do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6420546361774253693-3858395279329931799?l=countdwnto30.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/feeds/3858395279329931799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6420546361774253693&amp;postID=3858395279329931799&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/3858395279329931799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6420546361774253693/posts/default/3858395279329931799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://countdwnto30.blogspot.com/2008/01/me-write-pretty-one-day.html' title='Me Write Pretty One Day'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05954056073266024331</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oH-BmxSac6k/SlNd7xf1reI/AAAAAAAAANo/he3zMDAvjSo/S220/31st+Birthday+169.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
