<?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-6955332023439319378</id><updated>2012-01-04T18:57:45.707-05:00</updated><category term='Isms.'/><category term='Tales from the Abyss.'/><category term='Tidbits'/><category term='I know. I&apos;m a dork.'/><category term='Isms'/><category term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><category term='I know'/><category term='On My Soap Box'/><category term='I know.  I&apos;m a dork.'/><category term='Tales from the Abyss'/><category term='And a Light Went Off'/><title type='text'>Random Ramblings</title><subtitle type='html'>A compilation of random thoughts and funny moments.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-4067813360063258217</id><published>2008-02-08T14:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T14:29:55.679-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>New Signs of Happiness</title><content type='html'>(In talking about a program to study for a multiple choice test where upon answering a question, you either see a green check mark or a red "X" next to your answer choice.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K:  I am at the point where I know there is an exception to the rule but can't remember what the exception is and I keep going back and forth between the two last options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S:  I know, I can narrow it down to two choices but then I usually end up picking the wrong one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K:  Me too.  I just sit there wondering which one is the correct answer and then after I click the answer, I just hope and pray I don't see a big fat red X.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S:  haha.  Yes, the green check mark has become a sign of all goodness, hope, and happiness in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(maybe you had to be there.  Or at least have taken the test.... =P)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-4067813360063258217?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/4067813360063258217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=4067813360063258217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/4067813360063258217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/4067813360063258217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/new-signs-of-happiness.html' title='New Signs of Happiness'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-8217641168222398713</id><published>2008-02-08T14:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T14:20:05.983-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isms.'/><title type='text'>Hitch 101</title><content type='html'>C:  How many times did you watch Hitch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M:  Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  You used the tactics in the movie Hitch to get H, didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H:  Yes, he did the dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  Aaawww!!  That's a nice say of saying that M thinks he's dating up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I emphasize....the cup is half full.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-8217641168222398713?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/8217641168222398713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=8217641168222398713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8217641168222398713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8217641168222398713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/hitch-101.html' title='Hitch 101'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-5913204363023302568</id><published>2008-02-08T14:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T14:16:32.396-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>I am Woman, Watch Me Pretend.</title><content type='html'>L:  He said he wanted to try to wrestle me to see if he could flip me over.  I tried my hardest and held my ground.  After a while I started encouraging him by telling him to try harder and that he could do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M:  Oh my god.  You are so clueless and emasculated him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P:  And this is after they were cuddling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L:  What?  I'm supposed to let him win and just inflate his ego by saying he's strong?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X:  Yes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L:  I'm supposed to pretend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R:  We are women!  Pretending is what we do!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-5913204363023302568?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/5913204363023302568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=5913204363023302568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5913204363023302568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5913204363023302568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-am-woman-watch-me-pretend.html' title='I am Woman, Watch Me Pretend.'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-4242149562656469286</id><published>2008-02-07T12:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:08:28.879-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isms.'/><title type='text'>Lazy, But Not Alone</title><content type='html'>Conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  I don't want to wash my face!  I'm soo lazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R:  No one told you that you had to.  I practically had to force myself to wash my face and brush my teeth.  I am lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  You are not alone~.  I am lazy too~.  Though we're far apart~, we are both lazy farts~~.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Thanks Michael!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPyxgHCNxUE"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPyxgHCNxUE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-4242149562656469286?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/4242149562656469286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=4242149562656469286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/4242149562656469286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/4242149562656469286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/lazy-but-not-alone.html' title='Lazy, But Not Alone'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-1798438311815526456</id><published>2008-02-07T11:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:11:07.785-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isms.'/><title type='text'>Lone Studier</title><content type='html'>Student's mind starts wandering after studying for an important exam and comes up with the following song to reflect the situation of being alone and studying alone sends this email:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm soo bored I might die, so I will "sing" a song for you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lonely~, I am so lonely~, I am a hermit, all by my own EEEEEEEEeeEeEEEEEEEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sung to the tune of Mr. Lonely.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3FAH0NFvmA&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3FAH0NFvmA&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-1798438311815526456?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/1798438311815526456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=1798438311815526456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1798438311815526456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1798438311815526456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/lone-studier.html' title='Lone Studier'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-5085862253128992562</id><published>2008-02-02T14:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T14:38:42.671-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Birthdays - Sucks to be in a Rut</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is Super Bowl Sunday. It got me thinking about the people who have birthdays tomorrow. What if you don't even like football but all of your friends do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So some birthdays just feel more special than others because they happen to fall on a holidays. The more famous or popular the holiday, the more special people say your birthday is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ultimate seems like Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. We all talk about how special you are for having those birthdays, yadda yadda yadda. Those birthdays are the worst though if you think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least during Thanksgiving, you get to see your family and you probably get gifts, but people are too busy celebrating the holiday so all you get is a cake which blends in with all the pies and other desserts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are born on Christmas or Christmas Eve, it sucks because often times people only give you one present. Actually, at least if you are born on Christmas or Christmas Eve, please at least acknowledge that you are a Christmas baby. If you are born on the 22nd or something, you aren't special AND you don't get extra presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Years, well it might not seem so bad when you are young, because you might get presents separate from Christmas, but then when you are older, it is quite possible that you or all your friends will be hung over on your birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, if you have a birthday where businesses give a day off, such as Memorial Day, people leave town so you don't have any friends to hang out with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, for regular birthdays, if it falls on a weekday, then your friends might not be able to do much because they have to work the next day, but at least you get dinner or you move the celebration to the nearest weekend. Of course then you have to compete with everyone else who was born in the same proximity as you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the best birthdays are the ones where you were born on the first or last day of the month.  For whatever reason, it seems significant, but you are still not a holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm....what a strange turn of events. I love birthdays and I am a true believer in Birthday week (the celebration of your birthday over a weeks period of time) and getting whatever you want. Originally I began writing this post to show that although on its face, it seems like it is fun to have a birthday on a holiday, birthdays on "normal" days are the best, but now it seems there is a bad side to every birthday. Either that or I'm just being pessimistic. Probably both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks to be in a rut.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-5085862253128992562?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/5085862253128992562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=5085862253128992562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5085862253128992562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5085862253128992562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/birthdays-sucks-to-be-in-rut.html' title='Birthdays - Sucks to be in a Rut'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-421151083685924516</id><published>2008-02-01T18:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T18:24:18.100-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tales from the Abyss'/><title type='text'>Revealing Comments</title><content type='html'>R holds "the squat" position in a public restroom. Before she knows it, she loses control of her aim and hits her pant leg leaving a round circle of dampness on the bottom of her pant leg. R never knew what it looked like when people peed on their leg before. Seeing she never knew what it looked like, R tries to pull it off as if she somehow splashed water on herself. (How she would suddenly get the bottom of the back side of her leg wet by accident, you'd never know...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R overreacting after going back into the office: "Dang it! I spilled water on myself!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T: "Looks like you peed down your leg and onto your pants."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R (*Shocked silent for 5 seconds*) comes to a realization then exclaims:  "You only know that because you've done it before!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T: ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-421151083685924516?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/421151083685924516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=421151083685924516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/421151083685924516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/421151083685924516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/think-before-you-speak.html' title='Revealing Comments'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-8291184607244808087</id><published>2008-02-01T17:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T18:04:04.297-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='And a Light Went Off'/><title type='text'>Obvious "Hidden" Answer</title><content type='html'>C:  I like this show because all the characters in it are nice people.  It just makes me happy.  I wish there were more shows like this.  Instead, all the other shows I watch have soo much drama and conflict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  Why don't you just watch shows that have happy, nice people and stop watching the other shows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-8291184607244808087?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/8291184607244808087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=8291184607244808087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8291184607244808087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8291184607244808087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/obvious-hidden-answer.html' title='Obvious &quot;Hidden&quot; Answer'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-7293371515803954472</id><published>2008-02-01T17:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T18:08:49.043-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>Reminder:  TV is Not Real</title><content type='html'>(A gets sucked into a historical drama of sorts that takes real historical occurrences but fills in the blanks to the full extent that literary freedom allows. It is a story of kings, conspiracies, love, and corruption all wrapped in one.  After the end of the episode:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: I hate that queen. She is soo evil. I wish they would have just killed her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: The guy you like becomes king, it has a happy ending, so don't worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: That's not the point! She's going to cause soo much trouble and headache and probably end up causing deaths too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: Honey, all those characters are dead. They don't care. Calm down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-7293371515803954472?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/7293371515803954472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=7293371515803954472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7293371515803954472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7293371515803954472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/02/reminder-tv-is-not-real.html' title='Reminder:  TV is Not Real'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-2382245001651448932</id><published>2008-01-25T13:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T13:55:37.764-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='And a Light Went Off'/><title type='text'>Math Word Problem:Lawyers as Water:Oil</title><content type='html'>I recently received an email challenging "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?"  I am assuming it is inspired by the TV show.  Included in the email was the following math problem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; There are 7 girls in a bus&lt;br /&gt;&gt; Each girl has 7 backpacks&lt;br /&gt;&gt; In each backpack, there are 7 big cats&lt;br /&gt;&gt; For every big cat there are 7 little cats&lt;br /&gt;&gt; Question: How many legs are there in the bus?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; This is a real math problem so don't say that a bus has no legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I consider myself to be good at math, but this question baffled me.  My issue with answering this question was that all my years of legal training made it so that I contemplate the true meaning of every word.  The "problem" with this question is that it left too much room for interpretation and left unanswered questions.  Did all the girls have both legs?  Did the girls have their backpacks with them?  Was this some sort of trick question?  The last statement says that "this is a real math problem" so does that mean there aren't any tricks?  How am I supposed to answer this question when I can't figure out exactly what it is asking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first instinct was that the answer was 14 because there is no mentioning that the children have their backpacks with them.  I wasn't mean enough to amputate anyone.  When I found this was the wrong answer, I figured that I need to stop analyzing the question and just do to math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I had such a grand time with the problem, I decided to forward it to people I know, including other lawyers.  I found out that they too had problems because they were asking the same questions I was, plus a few more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when it hit me.  Lawyers, we are one messed up group of people who over analyze.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-2382245001651448932?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/2382245001651448932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=2382245001651448932' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2382245001651448932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2382245001651448932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/math-word-problemlawyers-as-wateroil.html' title='Math Word Problem:Lawyers as Water:Oil'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-3392696172353365554</id><published>2008-01-20T01:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T01:24:22.975-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>Thirty is the New Twenty</title><content type='html'>T:  So, I saw this card today.  It was a card for a person turning thirty.  There is a picture of a couple in their 50s or 60s on the cover.  Inside it says, "This is what you look like to a twenty year old."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  (28 going on 29)  Whatever!  That card can shove it because I got carded for lottery tickets twice this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The age for buying lottery tickets is 18 years old)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-3392696172353365554?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/3392696172353365554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=3392696172353365554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/3392696172353365554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/3392696172353365554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/thirty-is-new-twenty.html' title='Thirty is the New Twenty'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-1536348919980669912</id><published>2008-01-20T01:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T01:20:41.838-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='And a Light Went Off'/><title type='text'>The Difference Between "Ah" and "Aye"</title><content type='html'>K: Hey I have those same shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: You know what that means don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K: What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: (Option 1) It means you have great taste!&lt;br /&gt;A: (Option 2) It means I must have great taste!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both Option 1 and 2 essentially say that both K and A have great taste, but the two options can leave K feeling two totally different moods.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-1536348919980669912?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/1536348919980669912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=1536348919980669912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1536348919980669912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1536348919980669912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/difference-between-ah-and-aye.html' title='The Difference Between &quot;Ah&quot; and &quot;Aye&quot;'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-629884450537917363</id><published>2008-01-19T00:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T01:15:30.453-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>The Value of a Surprise vs. The Value of Anticipation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.partyguideonline.com/occasions/images/g0415854.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.partyguideonline.com/occasions/images/g0415854.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.partyguideonline.com/occasions/images/g0415854.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there I've been to a lot of "Surprise" parties recently. Everyone loves surprises because it is just something happy that we don't expect. I wonder however if it is worth all the work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Usually everyone has to run around keeping a secret and trying organize your party without you knowing. The whole time you are clueless or at least supposed to be and so you are just sitting there thinking that maybe no one loves you because there has been no talk about what will happen on your birthday. Maybe you think that a surprise is waiting for you, but at the same time, you don't want to get your hopes up so you just wait and are either surprised or disappointed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing about surprise parties is...is that we have surprise parties for special occasions. We all know that the special occasion is coming. Most people want to celebrate this special occasion so why do we keep hiding it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Has everyone forgotten the value of anticipation and preparation? The excitement you have from counting down the days till your party and you will be surrounded by people who love you. After all, it'll be the people you love you that go through the trouble of trying to surprise you. The fun of getting dressed up in your own way so that you can be as presentable as can be. I also think that included in the anticipation is the ability to mentally prepare yourself for what is to come as well. Even if you had a crappy day at work, you know that a party is waiting for you. You might not even want it, but at least you can mentally prepare yourself. At a surprise party, you don't have time to prep yourself. Instead you might come home after a long, hard day at work, looking like a mess, and just want to be alone and WHAM! Twenty people jump out at you yelling "Surprise!!!" looking all excited, and instantly you have to put on a happy face and play your part.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the occasional loud mouth ruins the surprise, that person becomes the butt of "ruined party" jokes. But what is the end result? The guest of honor is happy because he knows that there is a party. The other planners and guests still look forward to the party.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've really started thinking that a surprise party is more fun for the people making the party because they get to enjoy all the anticipation of the party and the fun of surprising the guest of honor. The surprise actually transfers all the pre-party fun to the party planners instead of the party guest. That's probably why surprise parties are popular.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong, I like surprise parties, but I wonder if they are as great as they are cracked up to be.&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/6955332023439319378-629884450537917363?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/629884450537917363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=629884450537917363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/629884450537917363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/629884450537917363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/value-of-surprise-vs-value-of.html' title='The Value of a Surprise vs. The Value of Anticipation'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-8273194030972623759</id><published>2008-01-18T00:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T01:01:27.970-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='And a Light Went Off'/><title type='text'>What's In A Kiss?  (Part 2)</title><content type='html'>A1:  So I was thinking about your comment on kissing.  I wondered if it was because it feels good for your lips to touch another pair of soft, warm lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A2:  So?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A1:  I realized that isn't it because I was looking at a picture and I kissed it.  All I felt is cold, hard glass, but I was still happy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-8273194030972623759?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/8273194030972623759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=8273194030972623759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8273194030972623759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8273194030972623759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/whats-in-kiss-part-2.html' title='What&apos;s In A Kiss?  (Part 2)'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-7121721198152810865</id><published>2008-01-18T00:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T07:13:42.448-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>Foot In Mouth, Head in Gutter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.inklingmagazine.com/images/article-images/lollipop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.inklingmagazine.com/images/article-images/lollipop.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.testriffic.com/resultfiles/6033lollipop.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Waiting in line for a haunted frat house.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;T: So have you been playing by yourself alot?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: Yeah. Recently I changed my name to "Lollipop." Everyone thought I sucked so no one would play with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;T: Omg...you shouldn't say that out loud.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: ??? (takes a good 5 seconds to understand why) (suddenly mortified after seeing that surround people are trying to hide their smiles, speaks loudly and clearly). IF PEOPLE ARE EAVESDROPPING, IT ISN'T MY FAULT THAT PEOPLE HAVE THEIR HEADS IN THE GUTTER WHEN I'M TAKING ABOUT A SCREEN NAME FOR AN INNOCENT GAME!&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/6955332023439319378-7121721198152810865?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/7121721198152810865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=7121721198152810865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7121721198152810865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7121721198152810865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/foot-in-mouth-head-in-gutter.html' title='Foot In Mouth, Head in Gutter'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-3570484169073872033</id><published>2008-01-13T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T15:19:23.031-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>What's In a Kiss?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://southernfriedfatty.files.wordpress.com/2007/07/kissing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://southernfriedfatty.files.wordpress.com/2007/07/kissing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So one day my mom came over and gave me a kiss. It got me thinking. What really is in a kiss that we want to do it with the people we love? I mean, why don't we want to match our butts with our friends and family. Maybe some people do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it is psychosomatic. Maybe the happiness we feel from eating is associated with the happiness from kissing? As babies, I know our mouths are the most sensitive body part and that's why they try to eat everything. Maybe it is like smiling. Even when you are sad, if you smile, your brain is tricked into thinking you are happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, do we associate kissing with happiness because ever since we are born we are kissed and told to give kisses. We are obviously taught that kissing is a good thing that you do with people you like. Seeing that every society I know of kisses....well, you'd think it would have to be something more than psychosomatic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wonder if a baby never saw kissing happen and wasn't taught about kissing, whether or not that baby would kiss people he/she loved. I totally think that if you let a male and a female live on a deserted island (and they didn't die of various other problems), they'd end up populating the place. Just don't know if they would give each other pecks all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is probably some viable scientific explanation that this layman just does not know, but it still amuses me every time I give someone a peck, as to why I do it or I want to do it. I think however it is one of those "Chicken or the Egg" concepts. The world may never know... &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Side Note: So in looking for pictures to place with this post, I found a few articles with possible theories as to the origin of kissing, but the overall conclusion is that we may never know. I must be a genius!)&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/6955332023439319378-3570484169073872033?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/3570484169073872033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=3570484169073872033' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/3570484169073872033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/3570484169073872033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/whats-in-kiss.html' title='What&apos;s In a Kiss?'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-893221570757903251</id><published>2008-01-13T01:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T14:28:35.749-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>Agnorant</title><content type='html'>A: Did you know that kids are making new words? I heard one word, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Agnorant&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Agnorant&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Yeah, it means something is aggravating and ignorant at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J: That word is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;agnorant&lt;/span&gt;! That's the best definition for it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-893221570757903251?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/893221570757903251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=893221570757903251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/893221570757903251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/893221570757903251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/agnorant.html' title='Agnorant'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-6682743900441928559</id><published>2008-01-10T21:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T14:29:00.453-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>Spoiled But Still Wants to be Pitied</title><content type='html'>(A mother tries to use a pen from daughter's desk and finds it empty. She makes a funny face.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: (Sarcastically) Great~~.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: What? Don't look at me like that! You should pity me because I don't have any working pens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: What?! Pity you? You own mountains of pens. There are a stack of pens in the other room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: Those pens are empty. I was saving them so I could glue them together to make a picture frame. You should pity me because I used up all that ink studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: Pity you? You should pity me for having to pay for all that schooling!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-6682743900441928559?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/6682743900441928559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=6682743900441928559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/6682743900441928559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/6682743900441928559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/spoiled-but-still-wants-to-be-pitied.html' title='Spoiled But Still Wants to be Pitied'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-5533296519061939583</id><published>2008-01-10T02:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T14:29:28.163-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>Mommy's Little Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.jupiterimages.com/common/detail/33/84/22968433.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://images.jupiterimages.com/common/detail/33/84/22968433.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(A mother looks at her daughter sitting in a room and thinks that she's soo cute that she will show her baby off to a fellow worker. She goes out to seek the fellow worker.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;M: Hey, how old is your daughter?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;W: 24&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;M: Oh, then she's too old to be cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Mother goes back into the room where she left her baby to get her.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;M: Hey, come here, I want to show W how cute you are. His daughter is 24 so she's too old to be cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;D: Uhhh....Mom....I'm 26.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-5533296519061939583?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/5533296519061939583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=5533296519061939583' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5533296519061939583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5533296519061939583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/mommys-little-girl.html' title='Mommy&apos;s Little Girl'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-7882638325797417709</id><published>2008-01-09T20:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T21:00:27.177-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='And a Light Went Off'/><title type='text'>DINK or SUNK?</title><content type='html'>So I just heard "DINK" for the first time yesterday, or yesterday was the first time I actually paid attention.  Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DINK" stands for "Dual Income No Kids."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was laying in bed last night and it hit me.  If there is a DINK, then I must be "SUNK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Single Unemployed No Kids"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that is the circle of life.  SUNK, SINK, DINK, DIWK, RIP....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-7882638325797417709?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/7882638325797417709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=7882638325797417709' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7882638325797417709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7882638325797417709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/dink-or-sunk.html' title='DINK or SUNK?'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-8820031901879381918</id><published>2008-01-09T14:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T14:29:59.037-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>You know you are old when...</title><content type='html'>E: How old are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: 28&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: Wow. Just wait till you are 30. Something happens then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J: (Man in his early 30s) Yeah. One day I found myself in a robe with socks and slippers bending down for a newspaper with my legs wide apart and only bending at the waist. I knew I was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: (Man in his mid-30s) No, you know when you are there when you start leveraging the mailbox with one hand while you bend down for the newspaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H: (Man in his 40s) No, you know when you are there when you wake up and you feel hung over but you know that all you did the night before was work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-8820031901879381918?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/8820031901879381918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=8820031901879381918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8820031901879381918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8820031901879381918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/you-know-you-are-old-when.html' title='You know you are old when...'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-2025315595025260513</id><published>2008-01-09T14:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T14:30:51.329-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>All Choked Up</title><content type='html'>(Conversation between three men at a wedding reception.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Groomsman: Man, you almost got me when you were saying your vows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Groom: Yeah, I didn't forget the words or anything, I was just choked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guest1: For real, it was as if something got into both my eyes at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-2025315595025260513?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/2025315595025260513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=2025315595025260513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2025315595025260513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2025315595025260513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/all-choked-up.html' title='All Choked Up'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-6033339285697665604</id><published>2008-01-09T14:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T14:25:03.720-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>First True Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.mos319.com/images/TrueLove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.mos319.com/images/TrueLove.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(An 18 year old called  a radio station requesting to dedicate a song to someone with whom he was "very in love." The DJ asked if this was his "First True Love." )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"First True Love"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is that? It doesn't seem quite an oxymoron, but either why the statement seems nonsensical. You'd assume you only have one "true" love, but maybe this is me keeping the romanticist idea that we all have a "soul mate," as some people would call it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it just depends on what word you emphasize or what the definition of true is. If you take "true" love as meaning the ultimate love of your life, then you should only have one. If you take "true love" meaning, a pure, honest love, well... then I guess you can have as many as your heart can handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that said, maybe that's how so many people fall in love and get married (discounting the high divorce rates out there.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been said that love isn't something you feel, but it is something that comes from two people looking in the same direction. Can we all fall truly in love with anyone so long as we are headed in the same direction or is that just extended companionship? Some married people do say that after a while the burning love you have for each other turns into the deepest respect and friendship. Maybe we all have love staring us in the face but we chose to ignore it because we are waiting to be swept off our feet, whatever that means.&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/6955332023439319378-6033339285697665604?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/6033339285697665604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=6033339285697665604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/6033339285697665604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/6033339285697665604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/first-true-love.html' title='First True Love'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-5248094444537086433</id><published>2008-01-04T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T14:30:28.232-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tidbits'/><title type='text'>New Year's Resolution 101</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.digi-hound.com/wp/img_wp2/fireworks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.digi-hound.com/wp/img_wp2/fireworks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(After a conversation about how someone is not following her New Year's Resolution.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;B: You are breaking your New Year's Resolution already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;T: Today is Jan. 1st. It is a holiday. You don't have to follow New Year's Resolution on a holiday! Besides, on the first of the year, you should do whatever you want to do and just be happy because it sets the tone for the rest of the year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;B: That's not fair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;T: Whatever, and if you mess up, you can reset/restart on Lunar New Year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;B: Dang it! I wish you would have told me that before I kept my New Year's Resolution for today!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-5248094444537086433?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/5248094444537086433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=5248094444537086433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5248094444537086433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5248094444537086433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-years-resolution-101.html' title='New Year&apos;s Resolution 101'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-8713950041461421783</id><published>2008-01-04T21:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T21:47:31.585-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tales from the Abyss.'/><title type='text'>Got Water?</title><content type='html'>(So in this time of drought where officials tell us that we'll run out of drinking water in a matter of a couple of months if it doesn't rain, people have crazy conversations.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: You know? Maybe instead of just calling October "Shorter Shower Month," they should ask people to shower only every other day instead of everday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: Or...maybe we could all shower together!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-8713950041461421783?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/8713950041461421783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=8713950041461421783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8713950041461421783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8713950041461421783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2008/01/got-water.html' title='Got Water?'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-835586991216744298</id><published>2007-12-17T15:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T15:30:52.023-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isms.'/><title type='text'>True Meaning of a Well Known Idiom</title><content type='html'>(P1: Says something clever.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P2: That's exactly what I was thinking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P1: Well great minds think alike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: That's a backhanded way of complementing yourself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-835586991216744298?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/835586991216744298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=835586991216744298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/835586991216744298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/835586991216744298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/12/true-meanings-of-well-known-idiom.html' title='True Meaning of a Well Known Idiom'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-1714722824886978873</id><published>2007-12-17T15:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T15:18:28.883-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tales from the Abyss'/><title type='text'>Beauty Gets You Far</title><content type='html'>(A cute guy walks out of a store.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: OMG, did everyone not just want to walk out of here with that guy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: You know, I used to think so but then he started talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: Couldn't be that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: He heard my accent and asked me where I was from. I told him South Africa. He looked at me puzzled and asked if I was an albino. (S is a Caucasian with brunette hair, olive skin, and dark eyes) It didn't end there. When I said no, he asked if I was adopted because my parents must be black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: Thank God he's pretty!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-1714722824886978873?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/1714722824886978873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=1714722824886978873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1714722824886978873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1714722824886978873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/12/beauty-gets-you-far.html' title='Beauty Gets You Far'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-2604523409613841662</id><published>2007-12-03T12:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T13:07:47.884-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Maybe Home Really is Where the Memories Are</title><content type='html'>There are all those stories, movies, and shows where people go back to the house they grew up and sit in a nostalgia of memories.  Suddenly the picture turns amber and cute little kids are running around and their parents are happily watching them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So recently I moved houses.  I moved from a house I called home for 18 years to a new house that I wasn't even excited about because it was soo far out in the suburbs.  At first I felt sad that I was leaving this house.  Within one weeks time, I am accustomed to this new house and the old house feels like a cold, dark storage facility.  If the old house were a friend, I think my friend would hate me forever.  Good thing its just a building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have more feelings about the first restaurant that my parents owned.  When my parents sold it, I was sad and every time I pass by I still wonder how it is doing.  I remember every addition to the building we made.  The stories of all our customers and employees who were like family to us.  With my parents working such long hours I guess I spent more time and created more memories at the restaurant then I did at my "home."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-2604523409613841662?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/2604523409613841662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=2604523409613841662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2604523409613841662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2604523409613841662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/12/maybe-home-really-is-where-memories-are.html' title='Maybe Home Really is Where the Memories Are'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-6973776375117684957</id><published>2007-12-03T12:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T12:51:55.287-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I know. I&apos;m a dork.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I know'/><title type='text'>I'm Happy Because I Amuse Myself</title><content type='html'>T:  (talking to third party)  Yeah she's always happy, in a conversation the other day, she called me "Miss Glass Half Empty" and asked me what happened to the glass being half full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(3 minutes of silence goes by.  A occupied playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  I said that?!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hahahaha&lt;/span&gt;.  Miss Glass Half Empty.  I'm so clever!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hehehehehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T:  See, she amuses herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  Hey, if I can't make myself happy, who will.  Besides, you remembered the conversation so I obviously made an impression.  See?  I am clever!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A2:  Don't worry, I think my jokes are funny too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-6973776375117684957?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/6973776375117684957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=6973776375117684957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/6973776375117684957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/6973776375117684957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-happy-because-i-amuse-myself.html' title='I&apos;m Happy Because I Amuse Myself'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-2084962881047170779</id><published>2007-11-20T23:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T23:02:46.943-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isms.'/><title type='text'>Falling Tree</title><content type='html'>B:  So its like, "If a tree falls in the forest did it fall?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  You totally messed that up!  It is, "If a tree falls in a forest and there is no one there to hear it.  Does it make a sound?"  If a tree falls in the forest, of course it fell!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-2084962881047170779?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/2084962881047170779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=2084962881047170779' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2084962881047170779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2084962881047170779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/11/falling-tree.html' title='Falling Tree'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-1337319578456212641</id><published>2007-11-20T12:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T13:02:12.188-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='And a Light Went Off'/><title type='text'>What Have You Done For Me Lately</title><content type='html'>I recently attended a professional development seminar on how to get promoted and move ahead in your professional career. Basically he was saying how we need to conform to the ways of the leaders of business and play their game. I really enjoyed the practical advice the speaker had to share. One particular thing he said struck me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was showing the audience a pie chart of what actions/characteristics, etc helps us get ahead in the world. Actual hard work was less than 10%. This struck many people's nerves. After all aren't we always told that if we do our best work we'll get ahead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He mentioned that when someone hires you, the boss hires you because he expects you to do your work well. As a consequence you get paid for the work that you do. If you exceed his expectations, you may get a bonus. (Here's the kicker) The moment that your boss hands you your pay check, he has paid you for your great work and at that moment can ask you..."So, what have you done for me lately?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(oooh ooohh oooohhh yeah~~~)  Nice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-1337319578456212641?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/1337319578456212641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=1337319578456212641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1337319578456212641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1337319578456212641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-have-you-done-for-me-lately.html' title='What Have You Done For Me Lately'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-3218890869033657450</id><published>2007-11-20T12:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T08:55:49.895-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Game Depicting Life Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.jakeludington.com/games/vv2thelostchildren_screen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://images.jakeludington.com/games/vv2thelostchildren_screen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.harmonicflow.com/game/images/gc/screenshots/virtual-villagers-2_screen2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px" height="166" alt="" src="http://www.harmonicflow.com/game/images/gc/screenshots/virtual-villagers-2_screen2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So another game I played recently is "Virtual Villagers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gist: You have little people running around this one village trying to solve puzzles in order to survive. The game doesn't really involve much brain power. They have to farm, fish, research, build things, have babies, etc. Each person in your village has to work and gain experience. If one person masters three different skills, that person becomes an esteemed elder. You then get a totem pole for every esteemed elder you create. It is quite an addicting game and fun to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most games, there is no real point to it once you solve all the puzzles. I still liked my little village and I was intrigued by the totem poles (you got a different one every once in a while) so I decided to make it a quest of mine to find every different totem pole available, meaning I had to make as many esteemed elders as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As time passed, my village kept growing till it reached the maximum of 90 people. It was hard telling them apart so I decided to dress each esteemed elder in a white robe. Quite prestigious! Before I knew it I had a bunch of elders. I was so proud of myself making so many elders and collecting so many totem poles (turned out there were only about 8 different poles).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden, I saw that some of my people had mastered three skills, but weren't considered esteemed elders and no more totem poles appeared. Were there so many elders that it just wasn't special anymore? The villagers were supposed to carve totem poles to show respect. With everyone and their mother becoming an esteemed elder, I guess it just didn't matter anymore. It is true that in my mind, every one of my villagers were destined to become elders before they died. I decided to still dress them in white garb, with or without a totem pole and just let the game keep running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I looked at my village and I saw a mass of little people running around in white robes. Suddenly my little villaged seemed like a cult. Before what was prestigious and special was now just a ocean of white freakishness.  This game just reminded me of how we view certain aspects of our lives and what we used to consider special now being mundane or stupid and the conformist ways in which we live. I'm bored with the game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-3218890869033657450?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/3218890869033657450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=3218890869033657450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/3218890869033657450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/3218890869033657450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/11/game-depicting-life-again.html' title='Game Depicting Life Again'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-2155878118393049324</id><published>2007-11-07T11:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T12:16:01.668-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Starting Ahead</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.krystalgardens.com/rmg/floor_tiles_tumbled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.krystalgardens.com/rmg/floor_tiles_tumbled.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(looking down at the floor at a department store)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A1: Wow, these floor tiles are soo clean and shiny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A1: These tiles are so lucky because the same tiles are here in S**** and stays shiny while other tiles from the same factory are on the bathroom floor at R**** all stinky and dirty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A2: Its just like the lives of people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A1: Exactly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-2155878118393049324?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/2155878118393049324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=2155878118393049324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2155878118393049324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2155878118393049324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/11/starting-ahead.html' title='Starting Ahead'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-8748178826288111841</id><published>2007-11-07T10:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T11:09:33.972-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On My Soap Box'/><title type='text'>Power of Words (Part Two - Chain Letters)</title><content type='html'>I despise chain emails and think that people who write them should receive all the bad luck that they are passing out. I can appreciate the occasional funny pictures, etc. I am talking about the emails that say that if you don't send the email to 15 other people all doom will befall you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have a friend who loves chain emails. I would receive at least one daily. I hinted and asked multiple times for this friend not to send me these emails. Finally I came out and specifically asked to be taken off the mailing list, because you know that my friend is bound to have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-made&lt;/span&gt; list. Anyway, I don't know if it was her response to me or bad timing, but this person sent me an email labeled (Do Not Delete (Read Alone)). Because I know that this friend is very sensitive to people's feelings and trusting that she took me off the mailing lists for chain emails, I took a chance and read the email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gist of the email was this: It was to warn non-believers. It gave examples of people who did not send the email to enough people or just deleted without reading. All the people who did not send the email to enough people died or had a loved one die. One of the examples was of a lady who only had 5 people in her contact list so although she forwarded the email to all 5 people knew, she died anyway.  Maybe the email creator thought that if you only have 5 people in your contact list, you deserve to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This thoroughly pissed me off. One, because my friend did not listen to my request. Two, because of the absurd message in the email and what passing this email on would mean. The message was basically threatening death the people who do not pass on the email or don't send to enough people. So basically, the email put everyone who &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;actually thinks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; about what they are sending to people into a moral dilemma. Do you risk your life or the lives of your loved ones and stop the stupidity or do you pass on the email to others and risk their lives instead? How do you know that the people you send the email to have enough people to forward the email to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;in order&lt;/span&gt; to stay alive? What does it mean when you send this death threatening email to your supposed friends and family who are in your mailing list? It isn't like you have strangers on your email list. Does it make any sense to put their lives in danger? This could be worse then the plague!! The email would be sent to people and grow exponentially and before you know it, all of human &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;existence&lt;/span&gt; will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;seize&lt;/span&gt; to exist because some stupid email. Luckily I and so far as I know, everyone I know is still alive. If they weren't, I might have had to blame my friend for sending me deadly email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I replied to everyone on the mailing list saying as much for multiple reasons. One, to finally get my friend to stop sending these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt; emails. I mean, this one didn't even have a loving poem about how friends are important or anything, it's sole purpose was to be passed on to bring luck to those who send it to enough people and death to all others. Two, to try to get people to think about what they are passing on. Three, to speak out for people that didn't want to say anything. One person responded back to everyone on the list seconding me. I got another person saying that she loved me for my email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend informed me, however, that she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; multiple calls asking why I replied to everyone when my email was directed at her. The only thing that was directed specifically at my friend was a line asking her to take me off her mailing list. It disappointed me that all they got out of my email explaining the stupid nature of this email was wondering why I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;responded&lt;/span&gt; to everyone instead of getting the point that they are perpetuating waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;implore&lt;/span&gt; people, think before sending stupid mass chain emails that call for all doom, think about whether you would take the time to hand write these letters to send them out. If you would, well, maybe you need your head checked. If you wouldn't, delete. Just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; it takes a split second to send emails and address it to a whole slew of people doesn't mean that the useless words are any less important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note. If you want to send a poem to your friends and family telling them how important they are and how much you love them, don't you think it would really make more sense to send individual emails or letters to these people saying so? It would mean a lot more to me if you sent me a "how are you" email to me over a mass email of the most beautiful poem in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-8748178826288111841?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/8748178826288111841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=8748178826288111841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8748178826288111841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/8748178826288111841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/11/power-of-words-part-two-chain-letters.html' title='Power of Words (Part Two - Chain Letters)'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-5053081288476058047</id><published>2007-11-07T10:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T10:39:25.343-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On My Soap Box'/><title type='text'>Power of Words - Part 1</title><content type='html'>I am a true believer in the power of words, but I believe that most people take the power of speech and writing for granted.  I hear people all the time giving excuses for everything or claiming that "they didn't do it".  It really makes me wonder what we would "say" if we couldn't speak and we could only speak through our actions.  I'm sure people would be fighting all the time because that's the only way they could try to claim that they are not at fault.  I am not saying that people should stop talking.  I just wish that people would really just think before speaking and truly think about the effect their words are having.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-5053081288476058047?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/5053081288476058047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=5053081288476058047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5053081288476058047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5053081288476058047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/11/power-of-words-part-1.html' title='Power of Words - Part 1'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-5618952685969629878</id><published>2007-10-19T00:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T00:49:01.256-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I know'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I know.  I&apos;m a dork.'/><title type='text'>Joke for the Chemistry Lovers</title><content type='html'>Hydrogen and Oxygen are sitting at a bar. &lt;br /&gt;Suddenly when Gold walks in, Hydrogen yells, "A U get out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-5618952685969629878?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/5618952685969629878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=5618952685969629878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5618952685969629878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5618952685969629878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/10/joke-for-chemistry-lovers.html' title='Joke for the Chemistry Lovers'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-2742201680185368232</id><published>2007-10-16T12:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T21:45:11.784-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On My Soap Box'/><title type='text'>Think People, Think!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/b/b3/Dental_braces.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/b/b3/Dental_braces.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/b/b3/Dental_braces.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;More and more, I realize that people just blindly follow what they are told. I've had multiple conversations where people define morality or ethics based on what is legal and what is not. Why let others tell you what is moral or right? Laws are made by a bunch of people, usually lawyers, who just want to talk and enforce their opinions on others. Anyway....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, the other day I heard another person yet say again, "She had plastic surgery. I guess she didn't like herself enough." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who says that people with plastic surgery don't like themselves? They might loves themselves so much that they want to look even better. The funny thing is that these same people who shun plastic surgery will think braces are a totally normal thing to do. Why? Because society says so. They aren't going to a plastic surgeon, they are going to an orthodontist. Here are these people imprisoning their teeth in wire cages while slowly torturing themselves for YEARS to have straight teeth and that perfect smile. Unless you are starving to death because your teeth are soo messed up that you can't chew or your teeth are rotting out your head, it is cosmetic. I'd rather be knocked out for an hour or two and come out with a cute nose then actually bending bones and going on a liquid diet because my teeth hurt too much I can't chew.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(FYI: I've never had either.)&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/6955332023439319378-2742201680185368232?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/2742201680185368232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=2742201680185368232' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2742201680185368232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2742201680185368232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/10/think-people-think.html' title='Think People, Think!'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-4310858043071854808</id><published>2007-10-16T11:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T12:19:05.793-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Games Depicting Life</title><content type='html'>So I've started playing too many MSN games.  One game I played is "Diner Dash." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about:  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The same company came up with multiple games with basically the same concept.  People come in and they have some order.  They don't like being in line too long and want to be served promptly.  The faster you serve them, the more hearts appear above their heads.  The less satisfied the customers are, the more hearts start disappearing till if all the hearts disappear, they storm out of your business establishment.  To increase patience, you can buy magazines or give drinks, etc.  Usually customers enter with 3 hearts and you can get a maximum of 6 hearts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a bank the other day and was reminded of these games.  As soon as I walked through the door I saw that there were at least 10 people in front of me.  (Lose One Heart)  Of course I saw 6 employees running around, but only 3 were helping the customers in line.  (Lost Another Heart)  Amused myself with this analogy.  (Gain One Heart).  I see that they have TV's with news (Delay Loss of Heart).  The line doesn't move.  (Lose Another Heart).  I feel like storming out, but what can I do?  I need to deposit money.  That's where life starts being life I guess.  Still, I couldn't help but think that it would have been nice for them to coax me with a latte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-4310858043071854808?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/4310858043071854808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=4310858043071854808' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/4310858043071854808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/4310858043071854808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/10/games-depicting-life.html' title='Games Depicting Life'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-810876036991725514</id><published>2007-10-11T14:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T14:58:08.368-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Soft Hands, The Next Accent Point</title><content type='html'>So people that know me know that I'm all about the "accent point." In fashion, it is the one piece of clothing, accessory, etc, that pops out and adds that extra something to the outfit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've decided that soft hands are a great accent point. I end up touching a lot of hands in one day. Sometimes the most grungy, dirty looking manly-man has the softest hands. When I meet someone like that the person automatically starts looking better for whatever reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it is only me and other people like rough hands, but I'd like to add "soft hands" to the list of important accessories of watches and shoes. So lotion on people, lotion on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-810876036991725514?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/810876036991725514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=810876036991725514' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/810876036991725514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/810876036991725514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/10/soft-hands-next-accent-point.html' title='Soft Hands, The Next Accent Point'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-3858455173747562584</id><published>2007-10-11T14:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T07:25:05.872-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isms'/><title type='text'>Mermaid Not So Clean?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://warehouse.carlh.com/article_119/mermaid_ariel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://warehouse.carlh.com/article_119/mermaid_ariel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ticketspecialists.com/images/little-mermaid-1_Little-Mermaid_Concert_tickets_2_Little-Mermaid_Concert_tickets_5929826.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: "You know? I would never want to be a mermaid. They have to live in their poop like fish. Gross."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(why do you think the mermaids want to go up where they walk, up where they run, up where they can get away from their "stuff"~~~~)&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/6955332023439319378-3858455173747562584?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/3858455173747562584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=3858455173747562584' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/3858455173747562584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/3858455173747562584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/10/mermaid-not-so-clean.html' title='Mermaid Not So Clean?'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-7379686559027735993</id><published>2007-09-29T15:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T14:52:55.131-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Beauty and The Green</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.sixwise.com/images/articles/2006/08/09/30405874%5B1%5DRAISE.thb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.sixwise.com/images/articles/2006/08/09/30405874%5B1%5DRAISE.thb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I overheard some lady say "Beauty is only skin deep. It's what's inside that matters."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reminds me of the saying about how money doesn't matter......something something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how many rich and/or beautiful people say those things and really mean it. It might be a chicken or the egg circular concept, but still....how many?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-7379686559027735993?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/7379686559027735993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=7379686559027735993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7379686559027735993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7379686559027735993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/beauty-and-green.html' title='Beauty and The Green'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-2056228762473129770</id><published>2007-09-27T13:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T16:11:06.449-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not So Deep Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Old Geezer</title><content type='html'>There was a group of four elderly persons sitting next to me. I couldn't help but overhear certain parts of their conversation. There was a married couple and two sisters sitting together. I don't know what they were talking about, but one blurted out, "Well, all I know is that men like big boobs. He (pointing to her husband) is a boob man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened after her husband hugged the waitress and the same lady said "Well, now he won't give me the time of day!"  (They were all very funny and cute.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That made me wonder. The cycle of men seem to be "Innocent Baby" --&gt; "Troublesome Toddler"  --&gt;  "Strapping Young Man"  --&gt;  "Grown Man" --&gt;  "Dirty Greasy Grossness"  --&gt;  "Harmless Old Man"  (Obviously not a complete set and not applicable to every man.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When does the a man stop being attractive and turn into a dirty greasy man who you don't want to even look at and then into a harmless old man?  Is it when we decide that he is no longer a sexual threat and we think he'd probably break a hip if he tried anything? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I sat there watching the old man hug different women and keep telling "harmless jokes" with slight sexual innuendos.  The news tells us that more and more senior citizens are having sex past their 70's.  Maybe men are all dirty old men...just protected by the disguise of age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-2056228762473129770?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/2056228762473129770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=2056228762473129770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2056228762473129770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2056228762473129770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/old-geezer.html' title='Old Geezer'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-2088893360873624475</id><published>2007-09-25T12:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T12:25:39.597-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tales from the Abyss'/><title type='text'>Cost of Endorphins</title><content type='html'>I was talking to my friend on the phone.  My mom comes and sits next to me and tells me to tell my friend a funny story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  What?  I don't want to repeat a story.  You want to talk to him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  No!  Just tell him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My mom feeds me the story line by line and I repeat the sentences.  After the story is over)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  Did he laugh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  No.  That story wasn't funny.  He says that the protagonist is just stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  Well, I feel bad for your friend then.  If he had laughed he would have released $2000 worth of endorphins.  (and laughs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Now you know where I get it from.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-2088893360873624475?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/2088893360873624475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=2088893360873624475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2088893360873624475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/2088893360873624475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/cost-of-endorphins.html' title='Cost of Endorphins'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-1734510212969012292</id><published>2007-09-25T12:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T14:59:34.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sound Chinese?</title><content type='html'>Man comes in and gives an Asian person a double take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: "You didn't sound Chinese on the phone!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: "Ha ha.....ha.....ha......ha......hmmm"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-1734510212969012292?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/1734510212969012292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=1734510212969012292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1734510212969012292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/1734510212969012292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/sound-chinese.html' title='Sound Chinese?'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-689690001749999427</id><published>2007-09-24T15:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T11:49:17.420-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I know'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I know.  I&apos;m a dork.'/><title type='text'>Heat, the Anti-Itch</title><content type='html'>So, after being attacked by a family of killer mosquitos, I was bitten almost 100 times on my legs in 2-3 days. Too lazy to go buy any anti-itch cream, I just sat there in misery. In my boredom I lit a candle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The itching is probably due to some protein and what destroys proteins? Heat. So I put two and two together and I stuck the tip of my finger into wax and then touched the drop of hot wax that was on my finger to a bite mark. It was hot as crap, but it took the itch away! Only problem is, 3 or 4 days later they itched again (or I was bitten again and couldn't tell which bites were old and which were new). I guess the hot wax was not hot enough to completely denature the proteins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggest you just buy some cortizone, but it is something to think about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-689690001749999427?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/689690001749999427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=689690001749999427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/689690001749999427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/689690001749999427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/heat-anti-itch.html' title='Heat, the Anti-Itch'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-20539768261373974</id><published>2007-09-24T14:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T15:06:55.385-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tales from the Abyss'/><title type='text'>Buffet = All you can eat HERE</title><content type='html'>Customers ask Owner at a Buffet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  So, I am getting full.  Can I take my dessert to go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O:  I'm sorry, but we ask that you eat all the food here and not take any with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  But I ate too much and now I'm too full for dessert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You know what the saddest thing is?  The customer then either stuffs himself to a point they can't walk or they leave mad.  It is only $6!!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-20539768261373974?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/20539768261373974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=20539768261373974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/20539768261373974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/20539768261373974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/buffet-all-you-can-eat-here.html' title='Buffet = All you can eat HERE'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-5085768428971248017</id><published>2007-09-24T14:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T15:50:46.515-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isms'/><title type='text'>Soo Articulate!</title><content type='html'>In trying to describe the foliage and where to go to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Go to the Smoky Mountains! It is beautiful. The trees look like a big, quilted, colorful.....quilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Just think, I am one of them edumacated people too!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-5085768428971248017?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/5085768428971248017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=5085768428971248017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5085768428971248017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/5085768428971248017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/soo-articulate.html' title='Soo Articulate!'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-7999930343208597608</id><published>2007-09-24T14:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T14:42:46.199-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tales from the Abyss'/><title type='text'>Math Not Your Strong Point?</title><content type='html'>Conversation between a boss and employee:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B: Hey, I know you work two jobs because you don't have enough hours here. I will extend your hours, so just work here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: Well, then I want a raise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B: Why would I give you a raise? You are doing the same job, just more hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: Well, I make $7.50 per hour here and $7.50 per hour there, ... so I make $15.00 per hour. Why would I only work for you if you don't give me a raise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B: ........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Two days later he quit. Maybe he found a place that pays $8, so he'd be making $15.50 per hour. Who knows.....)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-7999930343208597608?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/7999930343208597608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=7999930343208597608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7999930343208597608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/7999930343208597608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/math-not-your-strong-point.html' title='Math Not Your Strong Point?'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6955332023439319378.post-990142887777507611</id><published>2007-09-23T20:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T20:26:54.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In the Beginning...</title><content type='html'>So I have a blog. Who would have thunk it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost gave up during the process where I had to figure out a url. Either I'm not original or there are THAT many people who have a blog that all the names are taken. Maybe a little bit of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sample addresses I tried:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;randomramblings, myrandomramblings, craziness, qwertyuiop, poiuytrewq, asdfghjkl, zxcvbnm, whatisnottaken, whatisleft, numbtongue, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numb tongue came from me eating too much ice which made me slur like I had a few too many drinks. Ergo this address "iatetoomuchice" What can I say, I love ice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6955332023439319378-990142887777507611?l=iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/feeds/990142887777507611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6955332023439319378&amp;postID=990142887777507611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/990142887777507611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6955332023439319378/posts/default/990142887777507611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iatetoomuchice.blogspot.com/2007/09/creating-this-blog.html' title='In the Beginning...'/><author><name>Random Ramblings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01156797510818002130</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
