<?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-4356210105506327247</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:25:01.807-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts and Stories</title><subtitle type='html'>'nuff said</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-6253142441849888412</id><published>2009-01-26T12:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T13:04:32.821-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Post - Announcement</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just thought I'd let you know that I'm retiring my blogger account. It's been great so far and I've been glad to meet so many of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to blogger itself for slowly introducing me to the blogging world, but I feel it's time to upgrade. I'm still a bit nervous, but my husband seems to think I'm ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So fear not! I will still write and I will still rant. But at this new site, I will also be doing much more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please feel free to visit me and subscribe to the list. This is not something I understand, but my husband says this is entirely possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So check it out and &lt;a href="http://justkickinit.ca/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JUST KICK IT!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justkickinit.ca/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;www.justkickinit.ca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-6253142441849888412?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6253142441849888412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=6253142441849888412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6253142441849888412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6253142441849888412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/final-post-announcement.html' title='Final Post - Announcement'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-8079418497906338813</id><published>2009-01-22T16:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T16:15:40.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Through Her Eyes</title><content type='html'>So as per my last post, my day has been awful. Sadly, it's just one of many awful days. I'm slowly running out of reasons to 'save the world' or even just live in it.&lt;br /&gt;My husband says "The point is, if no one at least tries then the bad guys win" to which I respond "Haven’t you seen the Fifth Element? “What’s the use in saving life when you see what you do with it”"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing anyone can say to this. Except for young Connie Talbot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen this video and others like it, several times over. Honestly, I cry every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I desperately want to see the world through her eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QWNoiVrJDsE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QWNoiVrJDsE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-8079418497906338813?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8079418497906338813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=8079418497906338813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8079418497906338813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8079418497906338813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/through-her-eyes.html' title='Through Her Eyes'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-8906206003135830186</id><published>2009-01-22T11:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T14:56:09.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 11</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - today, everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk to the bus stop every morning. I get there at the same time every day and I'm generally the first person there. I wait at the lights like a good pedestrian and despite the fact that there may not be any traffic, I still wait for the pleasant little walking man to give me the thumbs up on crossing the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I'm halfway across the street when I start to hear cars from three out of four directions blaring their horns. Naturally I turn to that fourth direction to see a speeding car coming right for me. I guess this person is colour blind, because normally red means STOP. I take two quick steps back and let the speeding car pass. That's right, I was two steps from being hit by a car. Now let's suppose for a minute that the rest of the cars didn't see this guy coming. That would have led to a 3 car collision at least and I would have been hit by at least one of the spinning vehicles. So yes, I'm thankful for horns today and for all of those other cars and their drivers to be paying attention. To you, the colour-blind man, take a walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm waiting peacefully at the bus stop. The same old lady (and by old, I mean probably just in her 40s, but she pretends to be senile) who waits at the bus every day with me but generally gets to the stop 2 minutes before the bus comes, decides to stand in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm waiting for the bus, but you get to come and stand in front of me? What happened to the concept of a line? Or how about the concept of 'first come, first serve'? The bus arrives and she gets on first. That really grinds my gears. I feel like I should push her in front of the bus so she doesn't have this opportunity. &lt;br /&gt;There is one friggen seat available on the bus and now this old lady gets it. So she gets on the bus, takes what should rightfully be my seat and I get to stand for all 30 minutes of the ride. Whatever. When the bus arrives at the final destination I feel like holding back the masses and allowing the old lady to get off the bus first. Because really, she needs to be first. Again, this lady isn't old in age, she's old in misery. Just one big miserable pain in my thigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I always complain about the subway folk, so really you can just read my past rants to get the full gist. But please, can someone enlighten me? What exactly is the point of the escalator dash? You know when people have to be the first off the damn train, they push everyone out of their way and run as fast as they can to the escalator. They stop, wait a few seconds as they debate which of the moving stairs they'd like to stand on, they make their first step and then just let the escalator do the work. What's the point? Why are you in such a rush to get to the escalator, only to stand there? If you're in such a damn panic, you should be running up those steps two at a time, but you don't. I don't understand you. You know who you are. You take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself where the fire is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after an hour and a half of commuting with these bogus people I am now safely at work. I'd like to take a minute here to explain why exactly I go through this process every day. This is not a career. This is no where near my dream job. So why do I torment myself on a daily basis? Simple. My husband is an immigrant. Actually, he can't even be classified as an immigrant, he's still just a 'visitor'. He has lived here since 2006, and we've been married for over two years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For anyone that says to get a "green card" or "residency" just get married, they're lying. We submitted the official paperwork a long time ago and the government just makes excuses as to why their job isn't done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, it was because the Doctor's exam had expired. Well, if it didn't take you a year to look at it in the first place, it would still be valid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, the criminal background check is missing. Well, we submitted that according to the web site's request, but sure I'll put in for another one. It only costs an extra $20 and 3 months of my time. The UK police say 40 days, but I guess with the time difference this is 3 months because THAT'S HOW LONG IT TOOK THEM TO SEND US THE PAPERWORK. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as per your request Mr. Government, here is everything you asked for and then some. So what are your excuses now? Well, there is a backlog. That's not really my fault, I gave you everything you needed a year and a half ago, if you had looked at it then, nothing would have been "expired" or "missing" and there would be no backlog. They tell us to call back 'next month' for an update on the progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we call back the next month, we hear the same nonsense. After a few months of these phone calls we now are getting a different excuse. "The process has changed due to the election and political changes, please call back in two months."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT DOES THE ELECTION HAVE TO DO WITH ME? Honestly, this is like saying well the price of gas has increased since your last purchase so you owe me $#.## based on the difference of what it is now and what you paid BEFORE. Ridiculous. Why are we paying so much money to the government when they aren't doing anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was invited to go to the TTC meeting. This is where they discuss changes that are to be made to make the world better. Right. This is where you tell me you're increasing the fare by yet another quarter and decreasing the service. Less trains, less buses, and meaner staff. Excellent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh right, the reason why I come to work. Due to the fact that my husband is just a 'visitor' he is not legally allowed to work in Canada. I have agreed to 'sponsor' him for three years, but apparently this three years starts the day his residency is approved. So for the last 2+ years that he's lived here he has been my responsibility. Well he's my husband, this is not an issue. The issue is that in order to sponsor him I have to prove that I have job stability. This means that I have to work in this hell-hole for the next three years and 2 months (plus the actual time it takes the government to approve the residency). That's only if he's approved. Suppose he's rejected. That means we have waited all this time, and put all of this money into a process that failed. We'd be homeless and kicked out of the country. Lovely, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let's move on to the reason I started this stupid rant. I'm going to list all the reasons why my job sucks. No, correction, I am listing the reasons why it's sucks TODAY, why it sucks in general would just take too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a department that consists of 4 people and a manager. The manager is just a figurehead. One of the four people is considered to be a &lt;strong&gt;team lead&lt;/strong&gt;. A &lt;strong&gt;team lead&lt;/strong&gt; is someone who delegates all work, yells at everyone, and sits around on his ass all day. We will just call this person "&lt;strong&gt;TL&lt;/strong&gt;" for the rest of the post. Another one of the four people is a &lt;strong&gt;man&lt;/strong&gt;. A &lt;strong&gt;man &lt;/strong&gt;is similar to the &lt;strong&gt;TL &lt;/strong&gt;except there is less delegating involved and more excuses. These excuses usually come in the form of "I'm too busy doing my own work to help anyone else with theirs." We have yet to see the results of said work. He also claims it takes him 8 hours to do a job that I do in 1 hour. This is not an exaggeration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other two on the team are myself and one other &lt;strong&gt;woman&lt;/strong&gt;. We pick up the slack and take the brunt of the arguments. We do the work because if there are ever cutbacks, we know we'd be the first to go. We try not to give them any reasons. Strangely enough, if &lt;strong&gt;TL &lt;/strong&gt;and &lt;strong&gt;man &lt;/strong&gt;ever leave (and they have been known to take weeks off at a time) the jobs still get done. But if us women take off, well chaos ensues. You think, that this would show our value, but alas, it does not. Us women have to coordinate our schedules because we're not allowed to be on vacation at the same time. Crazy? Indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are to train each other on our daily tasks so that if the roof collapses or something drastic, at least the job will still get done. So while we're training each other we still have to keep up with our daily tasks. This is quite stressful as you can imagine, because there is not enough hours in the day to do all these things, but &lt;strong&gt;man &lt;/strong&gt;is still too busy to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the person who trained me in the first place is no longer in the department. She is still with the company. Today, I made the mistake of asking her for an email list. Well, &lt;strong&gt;TL &lt;/strong&gt;yells at &lt;strong&gt;woman &lt;/strong&gt;and writes an email to everyone saying that we are not supposed to go outside the 'team' for help. So no one here has the answers, do it incorrectly, all hell breaks loose and we get in trouble. Ask for help to avoid this, and we get in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got yelled at for not filing work that wasn't done by me. I got yelled at for not cleaning out someone ELSE's desk. Apparently, it's my job to search every filing cabinet in the building, including those that belong to others, for piles of paper. Then I'm supposed to sort this paper by date. PS, I am NOT a secretary. I'm NOT an administrative assistant. And I am most certainly NOT your bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is grand. I'm too tired to continue writing so let's end on this. I'm not sexist, or ageist. Ignorance and laziness come in all shapes and sizes... and that's what really grinds my gears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-8906206003135830186?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8906206003135830186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=8906206003135830186' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8906206003135830186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8906206003135830186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-really-grinds-my-gears-11.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 11'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-1218489701164186294</id><published>2009-01-20T10:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T10:55:55.477-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 10</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - fashion statements in the winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now it's -14C outside, but with the wind travelling at a speed of 24km/h it feels like -24C. And this is not the coldest day of the year, it's not even close. You really should be prepared with scarf, tuke, mittens/gloves, winter boots and whatever else keeps your body warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is no time for high heels and mini-skirts ladies. Honestly, how sexy do you feel with those bright red legs? How safe are those high heels walking around on ice? Just who are you trying to impress?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids, this goes out to you too. You are wearing a winter coat, but it's of no value unless you do it up. And where are your hats? You know it's cold outside, you know that you're freezing right now. Why are you torturing yourself? Are you only considered cool if you're shivering? Is it hip to walk around with red nose and ears?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when it was cool to be warm and comfortable but I guess that was a long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why don't you just dare to be different and start a new trend? Running shoes aren't really made for this snowy, icy weather. The scarf you're wearing, isn't really useful if your chest is still exposed, so do up your jacket. You'll be the first cool kid without frostbite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what's with people on the elevator. Not only are you lazy, getting on the elevator on the second floor to go down to the lobby, but you're pretty stupid too. There you are frantically looking for the "G" button, but where exactly do you think the elevator is going to go. You got on an elevator full of people, you know it's going down, and you also know that there is nothing beneath the "G" level. So, do you think that if you don't press the button the elevator will just stop where it is? No. Of course not. The button has already been pressed by one of the other ten people on the elevator. You don't need to press it too. In fact, just get off and take the damn stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the lady on the subway train, you're too fat to sit there. Don't squeeze your fat ass in that small chair between two people. There is no where for them to go and you really don't fit. Maybe you should stand for those two stops, it might do your body some good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's what really grinds my gears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-1218489701164186294?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1218489701164186294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=1218489701164186294' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1218489701164186294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1218489701164186294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-really-grinds-my-gears-10.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 10'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-6637213910507745954</id><published>2009-01-20T09:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T09:57:43.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk About Great Service</title><content type='html'>So I thought I'd take a break from my usual rants about people on the subway, and other common ignorant people to make an announcement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So recently, I had the unfortunate experience of losing puzzle pieces. I worked for hours, probably close to 15 hours to be exact on a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle. And in all this time, I probably only completed about 150 pieces worth of work. It took me a solid 9 hours to complete just the frame, and that was after a few trial and errors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cats thought the puzzle would make a nice sleeping spot. But three cats makes for a lot of back and forth and of course some pieces were knocked to the floor.... only to be consumed by the dogs. I cried. I worked so hard on something that was just ruined in the space of minutes. To top it off, the puzzle is a limited edition and sold out everywhere. I'm left with two choices: complete the puzzle despite the missing pieces or throw it all out and count my losses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well as per previous posts, I'm persistent. I called several different stores trying to find this puzzle to no avail. A week later, I walk into a store and come across the last copy. Cha-ching! I now have a replacement but still no place to work on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is where my great service experience comes in. I come across this website: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jigsawjungle.com/"&gt;JIGSAW JUNGLE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This place specializes in all things puzzle including a few safe storage options. I decide to spend a bit of money and get a good quality jigsaw briefcase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you spend over $79 (I believe) you get free shipping. This is a bonus because I'm in Canada and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jigsawjungle.com/"&gt;JIGSAW JUNGLE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is in the United States. With the free shipping option you are guaranteed delivery in 5-10 business days. The exception of course is if you are located outside the States because they can't guarantee the length of 'border time'. Well fair is fair. They also say that they aren't responsible for duty fees. So now I'm expecting my package to be delivered in 5-10 business days, but if it takes longer, that's OK too. And if it comes with an extra fee, well I've been warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered my package on Friday afternoon and it was shipped to me on Monday morning! This is cross-border! That, my friends, is awesome service! The bonus, I didn't have to pay a thing at the door. Also good news. I will definitely be doing business with these people again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-6637213910507745954?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6637213910507745954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=6637213910507745954' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6637213910507745954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6637213910507745954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/talk-about-great-service.html' title='Talk About Great Service'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-8897591220780629624</id><published>2009-01-15T11:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T12:12:05.381-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy Math Yet Hard To Comprehend</title><content type='html'>I'd like to take the time here to mention a very charitable cause and a very charitable man. It's the &lt;a href="http://12for12k.org"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12 for 12K&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each month a specific charity is chosen. For January, it's War Child. By the end of the year, that will mean there are 12 charities that are helped through this cause and countless people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The goal is to raise $144,000 in 2009. This breaks down to $12,000 per month (per charity).&lt;br /&gt;It may sound like a lot of money, so let's break it down even further. If 1200 people get involved in this cause, they only have to donate $10/month. If 2400 people get involved, it's only $5/month out of their pockets. The more people that get involved the less money per month is needed. Or, if everyone commits to donating $10/month then the goal will not only be met, but it will be surpassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1200 people may sound like a big number, so let's break this down. If I tell 10 people and each of those people, tell 10 more, etc, you could reach out to over 1000 people in just three steps:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I tell 10 people.&lt;br /&gt;Second, if those 10 tell 10 others, that's 100 people.&lt;br /&gt;Third, if those 100 tell 10 others, that's 1000 people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if I, plus 10, plus 100, plus 1000 are donating $10 month then we just raised $11,110 per month! That's not quite the goal, but if we all do this then we've reached 93% of the goal and it only cost us $10 and 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All you need to do is write an email and send it out to everyone in your address book. You know there are more than 10 people in your hotmail/gmail/yahoo/outlook account, I'm hoping you reach 10 people and they do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This cause has been running now since January 1st. In 15 days, they have only reached 6% of their goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I cannot comprehend. $10 is not a lot of money, and 10 minutes is not a lot of time. I understand the economy is low, but if you can make your coffee instead of buying it for one week - that's $10 you can put towards a charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you make your lunch for two days instead of buying it, that's $10 you can put toward a charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can rent a movie instead of seeing it in the theatre, that's $10 that you can put towards a charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my personal favourite (yet hardest for me), if you can go to the library for one book, instead of purchasing it, then that's $10 that you can put towards a charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not a hard thing to do, and it's not too much to ask. Think about all the people you will be helping. You're helping to build schools in Africa, you're helping to find cures to diseases, you're helping to clean up pollution, you're helping to find clean water, you're helping animals find homes. You're helping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took one man to have a vision. He put all of his time and resources into this project and it's completely selfless. If one man can donate 100% of his time to this project, surely you can find 10 minutes? If you are absolutely without money, surely you can find someone who can help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask your parents, ask your siblings, ask everyone. Spread the word. The more people who get involved, the more people we can help. It's simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spread the word, open your hearts, find the money, check the link. &lt;a href="http://12for12k.org/"&gt;http://12for12k.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-8897591220780629624?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8897591220780629624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=8897591220780629624' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8897591220780629624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8897591220780629624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/easy-math-yet-hard-to-comprehend.html' title='Easy Math Yet Hard To Comprehend'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-996595703829543132</id><published>2009-01-14T12:17:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T17:56:09.788-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 9</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - hairstylists. Or mayhaps I should specify, hairstylists that don't listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a package at a new salon. Some promotion where you just book your appointment and your cut and style is already paid for. So I booked my appointment and went in for a brand new look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of me BEFORE I went to the salon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW4jQLOKkjI/AAAAAAAAAEM/YTTw3855egc/s1600-h/before.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW4jQLOKkjI/AAAAAAAAAEM/YTTw3855egc/s200/before.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291205373003993650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice, long, curly hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't get me wrong, I love my curls, but it's time for a change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when the lady says "what would you like done today?" I hand her this picture. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW4jiU0-HvI/AAAAAAAAAEU/V4OOFUVEiAA/s1600-h/wanted.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 144px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW4jiU0-HvI/AAAAAAAAAEU/V4OOFUVEiAA/s200/wanted.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291205684820319986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's short and straight and completely different. I've had my hair short before, I know how it will look, and as drastic as it might be for me, I like drastic and I'm not threatened or scared by change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady says "oh no, your face is too round to pull that look off." I advise her that I know what it will look like and this is what I want. She says "you have broad shoulders and short hair just accentuates that." Again, I tell her that I don't care and to cut my hair off.&lt;br /&gt;She says "why do you want it short? You have curly hair. I'll teach you how to do your hair so that you'll love it."&lt;br /&gt;I say "I know how to do my hair curly, I also know how to straighten it. Please cut it off."&lt;br /&gt;She says "I specialize in curly hair, I know what I'm doing. You just haven't been to someone who knows what they are doing. Trust me, when I'm done with it, you'll love it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when I realize that I'm not going to get my way so I just stop talking. Really, I've had curly hair my entire life. Are you trying to say that in over 25 years, I've NEVER been to someone who knows how to cut hair? That I've never bothered to ask someone what the best products to use are? Get over yourself lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point she has me curling my own hair... Because that's why I went to the salon of course, to do my own damn hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell her I want my hair to be short, straight and flat. I tell her I wanted it parted to the left. This is what I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW4ldPgm2AI/AAAAAAAAAEc/WFc3HlOkQoQ/s1600-h/after.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW4ldPgm2AI/AAAAAAAAAEc/WFc3HlOkQoQ/s200/after.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291207796516640770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note the similarities. That's right, there aren't any. She didn't cut my hair, she didn't straighten it, she added volume and for F*&amp;K sakes she parted it the wrong way. &lt;br /&gt;I really could have done this myself. I could have just chopped it and it would have looked the same. I went to the salon because I wanted a new look and this is hardly new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This lady told me I had to dye my hair as soon as possible because my roots are showing (big deal). She asks me what colour I was thinking about going with it. Just for kicks I say "blue." She says "we don't carry that colour but how about a really nice blonde?" BAHHHH Why do you even ask? You clearly don't care what I want done, you just cut/dye/style whatever the hell you're in the mood for.&lt;br /&gt;She says to me, "worst case scenario, if you really don't like it, come back in a few days and I'll cut it again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would I go back? Why did I waste my time at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She layered my hair and even if I go back she won't be able to do my hair the way I asked. She's ruined it. She's ruined my chances of even getting it fixed so now I just have to wait until it grows out and try again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest slap in the face was at the end as I was walking out instead of asking me if I liked it, she says "there, that suits your personality much better."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me?! HOW THE F*&amp;K DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MY PERSONALITY? It's not like you've listened to a damn word I said. Honey, you haven't seen an inch of my personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I go to a new salon and ask the guy there if he can fix it. I tell him straight up, if he can't then I'll just wait until my hair grows back and try again but don't waste my time and money telling me you can do something you can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He fixes it - all is good. Now I spent $65 dollars on something that was supposed to be 'included in a package' and over 2 hours on a hair cut that went out the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW5mo3sMcYI/AAAAAAAAAEk/KCVtOoOeyhw/s1600-h/172321.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW5mo3sMcYI/AAAAAAAAAEk/KCVtOoOeyhw/s200/172321.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291279464537026946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW5nAlsbVsI/AAAAAAAAAEs/q4AarLux0X0/s1600-h/172451.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW5nAlsbVsI/AAAAAAAAAEs/q4AarLux0X0/s200/172451.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291279872023025346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like going back to the first lady and saying, next time just listen. Don't tell me I will look terrible. If it's a bad cut or if it doesn't suit me, that's my problem. Hair grows back, I can deal with it. I've shaved my head over bad haircuts in the past and I'm not afraid to do it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell me you know, because you don't. Go F*&amp;K yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-996595703829543132?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/996595703829543132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=996595703829543132' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/996595703829543132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/996595703829543132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-really-grinds-my-gears-9.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 9'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SW4jQLOKkjI/AAAAAAAAAEM/YTTw3855egc/s72-c/before.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-1342823782581557845</id><published>2009-01-07T19:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T19:59:46.988-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Whole New Ball Game</title><content type='html'>I posted a while back, all the reasons why I didn't like fan-based trailers and recreations. Perhaps I should make an amendment. I think I was tired of seeing all these Twilight recreations where people got together and made horrible spoofs. It's basically a mockery of all things holy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then I've seen many decent trailers made by fans, including interpretations of movies that have not been made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is by far, the most incredible fan made trailer I have yet to see. It's not Twilight, but instead a tribute to my childhood. For those of you in my generation - please tell me you remember!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to see this become a movie and I think the person who made this nailed the roles. I'd make only one small suggestion, and that is that they change Cheetara's costume. That's the only one I think they got wrong. But who am I to complain, when as said before - this is the best thing since sliced bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fb50GMmY5nk&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fb50GMmY5nk&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-1342823782581557845?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1342823782581557845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=1342823782581557845' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1342823782581557845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1342823782581557845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/whole-new-ball-game.html' title='A Whole New Ball Game'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-127419435576416991</id><published>2009-01-07T13:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T18:11:33.981-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a new year, it's a new post</title><content type='html'>This makes me laugh. Yesterday my husband announces he's writing a blog and wants to know what the big hoopla is about the Twilight Saga. More specifically, the commotion over the filming of New Moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'll deny it and say that he doesn't like this Twilight craze, and that he doesn't see what's so 'big' about it. I only asked him to read the first book of the series and he is now currently reading the fourth and final book. He also can't be separated from his "Team James" bookmark. He's hooked just like the rest of us, don't let him fool you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asks me to write him an email explaining in two sentences what the uproar is over the New Moon casting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't fix things that aren't broken is the saying.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Basically&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;, with the new director and the new budget there has been a lot of talk. They want to cast a young guy (the dude that played Prince Caspian in the second Narnia movie) as Aro. Aro is supposed to be head of the Volturi - king vampire if you will. He commands authority and you just don't get that from a young guy. He doesn't need to be gorgeous like the Cullens. In fact, it would be a better choice to cast someone like Gary Oldman, Christopher Lee, or someone fierce like that.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;They want to cast Michael Copon as the new Jacob Black. This is causing uproar for many reasons. First, you have the Taylor Lautner following. These are the people who say "I don't want you to change the actor, I already know this guy as Jacob and he did such a great job." Then you have those who say "well Jacob is supposed to age significantly for New Moon and I just don't think a 16 year old can pull that off." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Basically in this situation Chris Weitz is damned either way, however nobody wants to see Copon as Jacob Black despite his strong resemblance to Lautner. He's arrogant, posting already on his Myspace that he is the new Jacob Black when this isn't a decision that has been made. He doesn't have a very reputable background, appearing as a jackass in One Tree Hill (in only a few episodes) and more famous for his role as the Blue Power Ranger in the new Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers TV show... sounds like a class act. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;They are thinking about hiring Vanessa Hudgens or Brenda Song as Leah Clearwater. Leah has only a small role in New Moon but is very significant in the fourth movie/book. She plays the only female werewolf and has a grudge on all men. She is bitter and lonely and has absolutely no one to confide in given her situation. Vanessa Hudgens is from High School Musical - that's as far as her talent goes. Brenda Song is from the Disney channel - a show called The Suite Life with Zack and Cody. Apparently she doesn't show the best acting ability either.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why are they dumbing down these roles? Yes, the books are targeting a younger generation but that doesn't mean you have to dumb down the movies. Have some respect for this generation, they did have to READ the series to become involved. They have intelligence that you seem to be mocking. You need to hire people that are talented and will take their roles seriously. Take Ashley Greene for example. Never heard of her before Twilight, and she now has a very important character (AKA Alice) in the movies. Despite her lack of history in the film business she did a stellar job.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Twilight was basically a 'no-name' actor cast with few exceptions. The actors lived up to their roles, all of them. You hire these young people and you're looking at getting an actor who will 'beauty pageant' the whole thing. They can smile, look pretty, laugh, and flirt but at the end of the day, you know they aren't taken seriously. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why not cast the Jonas Brothers to play the rest of the werewolf pack. They're famous and cute and I'm sure it will go over well with the younger audience and maybe even pull in more people, who knows? What I do know, is that no matter how popular the Jonas Brothers are, or how big their fan base is, they have no right to this series. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I'm fully aware that many of these things are speculations and rumours, but they have to come from some where. Especially if they are repeated by many sources, no? Please them all be rumours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You're dumbing down our intelligence with these decisions. Read the books, do your homework and if you're too lazy to do this then get Stephenie Meyer involved. Get her to cast the actors she deems fit. Get her to tell you the main plot points and quotes that just can't be missed. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can tell you right now, coming from a person who has seen Twilight 5 times in the theatre (and counting) - at this moment, I have no interest in seeing the New Moon. I'm losing respect for Chris Weitz. You have the budget to make this film spectacular, don't mess it up.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's more than two sentences, but I'm passionate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those interested in seeing what my husband actually did with this email, read his blog:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://dannybrown.me/2009/01/06/listening-to-vampire-lovers/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;http://dannybrown.me/2009/01/06/listening-to-vampire-lovers/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-127419435576416991?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/127419435576416991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=127419435576416991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/127419435576416991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/127419435576416991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-new-year-its-new-post.html' title='It&apos;s a new year, it&apos;s a new post'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-6229924941740832403</id><published>2008-12-21T14:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T15:15:38.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I smell another rant</title><content type='html'>OK so I read another article that got me all twisted up and I thought I'd share it with the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28269290/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28269290/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a couple in New Jersey with three kids. Each kid has a horribly awful name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adolf Hitler Campbell - 3 years old&lt;br /&gt;JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell - 2 years old&lt;br /&gt;Honszlynn Hinler Jeannie Campbell  - almost one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the story about poor Adolf Hitler Campbell who couldn't get a personalized birthday cake for his third birthday. The cake company had some nerve not spelling out "Adolf Hitler" on this three-year-old's cake. It's just a name, for Heaven's sake. Alright, that's about as sarcastic as I can get on this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents try each year to get their child a cake. You'd think they would give up on this particular bakery and just stick with Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart doesn't show any biases, apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In previous years, the parents attempted to order a personalized cake with swastikas. Dad doesn't seem to think there is a problem with this. He claims he is not racist, he was just raised not to socialize with other races (this is where I insert one of those emoticons with the raised eyebrow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says it's just a name and people should get over it. Just because the real Hitler had such a past, doesn't mean his son will have the same fate. He says we have a new president so it's time for a change. Let's not look into the past, people, it's all about the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK &lt;strong&gt;WE&lt;/strong&gt; are not the ones naming our children after people in the past. Why didn't they just give their child the name "racist"? It's just another word after all. Just because I call you Racist Campbell, doesn't mean that you will turn out to be a racist, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Aryan Nation? How do you figure that's a suitable name? Hitler brought on a genocide, the Aryan Nation was a group of white supremacists, but again, these are just names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel bad for the youngest one. I've google'd and wikipedia'd but I've got no information on this Honsz Hinler person, aside from the fact that he was a Nazi. He just doesn't seem as significant as Hitler the racist leader, or Aryan Nation, the group of racists. He's just a Nazi with no other fame. Clearly that kid won't amount to anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another question to ask ourselves (with another one of those inserted raised eyebrow emoticons) is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a bakery will not allow "Adolf Hitler" inscribed on a cake, why does the government allow this on a birth certificate?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-6229924941740832403?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6229924941740832403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=6229924941740832403' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6229924941740832403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6229924941740832403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-smell-another-rant.html' title='I smell another rant'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-2111982666994930208</id><published>2008-12-08T15:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:39:42.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It Gets Worse</title><content type='html'>So in my life time I've had plenty of "it gets worse" stories. All very entertaining, and it's become one of my party specialties. If I start a story with "it gets worse" my best friend usually calls everyone over and says "oh, you have got to hear this one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while, but here's how my day started today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning a little later than normal and was in a rush to get ready. I straightened my hair yesterday so that wasn't an issue. However, looking into the mirror I noticed my hair was just not as great as the night before... Dang bedhead. Well I only have time for a quick brush, but of course that doesn't fix anything, it just leaves me with a good two inches of frizz. Whatever, I'm not superficial, I'm surprised I actually looked in the mirror this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave for the office, trying to figure out how to work my brand-spanking-new Ipod. My husband was up at all hours of the morning making sure that it was fully charged and fully loaded with good tunes. I made sure to read the instructions so there was no question of what to do. Well the menu and play buttons only work sometimes, the next and previous buttons work properly, nothing else works at all. I am able to get one song to play, can't adjust the volume so endure it at full blast. The song ends, and starts again. I look at the Ipod to see it's on permanent repeat, but because none of the buttons work, I'm unable to fix that. I check to see if maybe I have it on hold. I push the hold button and apparently that's now the "off" button. Grrr. I turn it back on only to get a message that says "bey-bey" before going off again. I can only assume that means Bye-bye but I wasn't aware that Ipods communicated in such a way. Ripped off. I was sold a cheap knock off on Ebay. Just great. If it worked properly, I probably wouldn't even know the difference. I'm tech-challenged after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I get to the bus terminal only to see that there are no longer bus stops. The terminal moved from the south end of the mall to the north end without any notification. By the time I get there I will have missed my bus. Lucky for me I spot a bus stop across the street. I hope that if I stand there long enough, my bus will come. It does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on the bus reading my new book. This book was sent to me by the author herself, signed and everything. I drop it in a puddle. I don't drop books, but this one decided to fall right on out of my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to the subway station. Wait for a good 15 minutes before an announcement states that there is some train down and we have to wait for it to get fixed before they can send out more trains. By the time the train comes, the station is packed and we all get to herd ourselves into the train and fight for a seat. I get one. By the time I get to the next station I figure out why this seat was left just for me. Apparently I sat in something. So now I'm cold and wet and have a mystery spot on my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I get to work I have almost forgotten about the pants before I get a big whiff of beer. Since I'm all alone and have yet to have a drink, where could that smell be coming from? I check my pants... Doesn't look like beer but I dread to think what it is. It's left a big white spot on my clean black pants. Grrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait a minute, why am I all alone in the office? I was a good 20 minutes late due to the train extravaganza. Everyone in my department has either called in sick or decided to work from home. Priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, of all days, is my birthday. Some birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I call my husband almost in tears to explain about my day and he says to me "well at least they didn't decorate your desk with balloons." He knows I'm petrified of balloons so I suppose this should be a positive thing... But that's when I notice that they didn't decorate at all. I didn't even get a card signed by everyone. They forgot completely!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well at least I have a cake to look forward to, right? My husband reminds me that's my job. So I have to make my own birthday cake? He says "no, you can buy one if you want." I actually find this funny. I've only been awake for two hours and all of these things have happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need a coffee. My girlfriend sends me an email, "happy birthday, I can't take you for coffee, I am working from home today." BAH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The director of Twilight, Catherine Hardwicke has officially signed off the project. She won't be making the next movies. I actually feel like this is my fault. What else can go wrong today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to think about it, my bad luck started yesterday. I didn't recognize it though because I wasn't the direct target. First, we set up our Christmas tree only to find we have no lights, they're all burnt out or broken. We go to the store to buy more lights forgetting that our two puppies and one kitten have yet to see a Christmas and don't understand the concept. We got home to find the tree was still standing. That's good. But we're still in the driveway looking in the front window when I see a small grey furry thing towards the top of the tree. I said to my husband "is that Ender?" and before he can look our tree falls to the floor. That was entertaining. No one was hurt and the tree was bare so nothing was broken. Danny says "well at least the puppies didn't pee on it."&lt;br /&gt;He then decides to take out the kitchen garbage. As he's tying up the bag, my littlest pup Cinnamon, decides to cock up his leg and pee all over it. I know he didn't have to go, but for whatever reason he wanted to mark his territory all over the garbage bag. I thought that was pretty funny too but only because it wasn't me. Danny was furious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day is getting better, my friend sent me an email with attachments. Hot pictures of not one but TWO of my top 5 celebrity hotties. My best friend took me out for lunch and my boss passed me that signed card. I wasn't forgotten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-2111982666994930208?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2111982666994930208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=2111982666994930208' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2111982666994930208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2111982666994930208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-gets-worse.html' title='It Gets Worse'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-7897995987017023330</id><published>2008-12-04T11:48:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T13:19:02.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fantasy - Top 5</title><content type='html'>I have decided to spice up my life with a little fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all have top 5 lists. Usually it starts with "top 5 celebrities, I'd leave my spouse for"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For me, this changes depending on my mood, but my number one guy has always been somewhere in the top 5 so I'm thinking he's there to stay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is my "top 5 celebrities"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ewan McGregor&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Daniel Craig&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeffrey Dean Morgan&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dave Grohl&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dwayne Johnson&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;These are in no particular order really, and as I said, they do change from time to time... with the exception of my Ewan. I actually had a dream the other night where I left my husband for Daniel Craig. In the dream, I said to my husband "I'll always love you, but I'm leaving you for Daniel Craig." He was heartbroken and devastated. So I tried that line when I woke up. He said "well it's James Bond, I don't mind." That made me smile. So I am allowed to leave my husband for James Bond as long as he makes my top 5 list. If he were number 6, well I've been told "I won't be left for a number 6 guy, that's just an insult."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another list, which I also found very difficult to make:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Top 5 FICTIONAL characters that I wish were real&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Edward Cullen (though methinks this is a tie with his brother Jasper)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Victor Krum&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Richard B. Riddick&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;McSteamy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Will Tippen&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Despite the fact that all these people were made into movie/TV characters, I'm not actually talking about the actors who portray them. The characters themselves are pretty sexy. Edward and Jasper Cullen from Twilight, Victor Krum from the Harry Potter series, Riddick from Pitch Black, McSteamy from Grey's Anatomy, and Will Tippen from Alias. I've added pictures below, but for Edward, Jasper, and Victor, I suggest reading the books. That way you can use your imagination and create the perfect guy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was thinking about adding Chuck Norris to either of these lists, but truth be told Chuck Norris is his own top 5.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgZwUZD38I/AAAAAAAAABs/a9AOAp-g8zE/s1600-h/Ewan.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcCnRbbrI/AAAAAAAAACk/I74f5avDAvI/s1600-h/Ewan.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275997794691935922" style="WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcCnRbbrI/AAAAAAAAACk/I74f5avDAvI/s200/Ewan.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgbrInhENI/AAAAAAAAAB8/onqi7AbMm0w/s1600-h/Daniel.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275997391326089426" style="WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgbrInhENI/AAAAAAAAAB8/onqi7AbMm0w/s200/Daniel.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcIz3zjlI/AAAAAAAAACs/QS4IKo_Gp-4/s1600-h/Jeffrey.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275997901153341010" style="WIDTH: 139px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcIz3zjlI/AAAAAAAAACs/QS4IKo_Gp-4/s200/Jeffrey.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgbvGAOsoI/AAAAAAAAACE/tOClOSJtTns/s1600-h/Dave.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275997459343913602" style="WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgbvGAOsoI/AAAAAAAAACE/tOClOSJtTns/s200/Dave.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgbywV_xMI/AAAAAAAAACM/8469zZONSa0/s1600-h/Dwayne.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275997522249106626" style="WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgbywV_xMI/AAAAAAAAACM/8469zZONSa0/s200/Dwayne.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgb84sEr_I/AAAAAAAAACc/9GsFDULOm6U/s1600-h/Edward+Jasper.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275997696287879154" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgb84sEr_I/AAAAAAAAACc/9GsFDULOm6U/s200/Edward+Jasper.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcaZJ38yI/AAAAAAAAADE/VQ7gyzW-DP4/s1600-h/Victor.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275998203219014434" style="WIDTH: 147px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcaZJ38yI/AAAAAAAAADE/VQ7gyzW-DP4/s200/Victor.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcVHfaQ4I/AAAAAAAAAC8/sOEq2bqJDz0/s1600-h/Riddick.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275998112578159490" style="WIDTH: 161px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcVHfaQ4I/AAAAAAAAAC8/sOEq2bqJDz0/s200/Riddick.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcOn40WZI/AAAAAAAAAC0/2HRerld8wW0/s1600-h/McSteamy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275998001015576978" style="WIDTH: 121px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcOn40WZI/AAAAAAAAAC0/2HRerld8wW0/s200/McSteamy.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgci4-3FoI/AAAAAAAAADM/JhC95Bgxpr8/s1600-h/Will.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275998349201708674" style="WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgci4-3FoI/AAAAAAAAADM/JhC95Bgxpr8/s200/Will.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgb3a0vJqI/AAAAAAAAACU/lElvz6Sb7js/s1600-h/Chuck.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275997602371806882" style="WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgb3a0vJqI/AAAAAAAAACU/lElvz6Sb7js/s200/Chuck.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgb3a0vJqI/AAAAAAAAACU/lElvz6Sb7js/s1600-h/Chuck.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgb3a0vJqI/AAAAAAAAACU/lElvz6Sb7js/s1600-h/Chuck.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-7897995987017023330?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7897995987017023330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=7897995987017023330' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7897995987017023330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7897995987017023330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/fantasy-top-5.html' title='Fantasy - Top 5'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/STgcCnRbbrI/AAAAAAAAACk/I74f5avDAvI/s72-c/Ewan.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-1307417525722322566</id><published>2008-12-04T11:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T11:43:30.055-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bet</title><content type='html'>I believe that everyone of legal age, and maybe some that aren't, have partaken in what is called 'the bet' at least once in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where you see who can go the longest between you and your significant other without some form of sexual act. In high school, it could be as simple as 'let's see who can go the longest without kissing the other' then you bet your virginity on it. Maybe not something as substantial as that but whatever the reward is for the winner, it's also as exciting for the loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you play this fun game of trying to tease the other to cave first. This could last a long time, or a short time depending on the bet itself. Basically it comes down to a sexual act for a sexual act. If I lose, I have to do a strip tease, but if you lose then you have to give me a full body massage. Really, who cares who loses at this point? The reward is done in privacy for the person you love. It's not humiliating. And if I really don't want to do a little dance around the bed, then I'll just promise myself to not crack under pressure. I'll make you kiss me, or whatever the actual bet is. I'll win, you'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word to the wise, don't try this bet when you're married. It's a stalemate. You'd be surprised at how long I could go without kissing my husband. He doesn't seem to mind either. There is nothing seductive in this game at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those married who want to spice up their relationship with a little bet, try this. The first one to leave the toilet lid/seat up has to clean it consecutively for six months. You'd be surprised how exciting THAT game can get. It doesn't involve sex at all, but everyone needs a clean toilet, and no one offers to do that job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-1307417525722322566?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1307417525722322566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=1307417525722322566' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1307417525722322566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1307417525722322566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/bet.html' title='The Bet'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-2270638232503445962</id><published>2008-11-28T15:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T10:32:56.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 8</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - people at the movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my own personal experience, for the first time ever in my life, I went to see a movie by myself. You know, it really wasn't such a bad experience - because unlike SOME people, I don't go to the movies to socialize in the first place, so going alone is not a whole lot different than going with people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to see what all the rage was about in this Twilight phenomenon but couldn't convince my husband to come with. This is actually where I'm lying and pretending to be cool. I knew what all the rage was about and I was dying to see the film. Anyways back to my rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were only about 30 people in the crowd and I had two talkative kids (boys by the way) sitting behind me. One decided to explain the ENTIRE movie to the other, quite loudly too. And if he wasn't explaining things, he was predicting them like "watch this part it's funny" then he'd laugh really loud. Or he made things up like during the make-out scene he said "did you see what just happened? He injected a bit of his venom into her but he didn't want to kill her so he stopped." I felt like turning around and saying "THAT'S NOT EVEN TRUE!" I expected the mother to shut the kids up but she decided it was more fun to kick my chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of chairs, since there was no one sitting in front of the talkative kid he decided to put his feet up on the seats. Well guess what - it's a row of seats and we can all feel you kicking. I was so annoyed, I kept glaring back, or leaning really far towards the front of my seat, but they just didn't get the clue. There were a few times of silence when I wanted to turn around and explain it to them. Like when the vampire says "you're like my own personal brand of heroin" I wanted to turn around and say "Heroin, kids, that's a drug you inject with a needle but I'm sure you'll learn all about that in high school."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sure you're thinking, why didn't she just get up and move. I should have. But I was already seated so nicely with my popcorn, and I'd have to gather up all of my belongings just to move. That would probably only get me away from the kicking, but the talking you could hear everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and you know in the beginning of all movies when they announce "out of respect for other movie watchers, please turn off all of your cell phones and pagers" ??? They mean turn it off, not turn it to vibrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can hear things vibrate, if it's a silent point in the film. And we can see the flash of light if you decide to open your phone up and see who is calling. What is so damn important that you can't wait for the movie to end before responding to that text message anyway?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-2270638232503445962?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2270638232503445962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=2270638232503445962' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2270638232503445962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2270638232503445962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-really-grinds-my-gears-8.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 8'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-2396204100240207541</id><published>2008-11-28T14:52:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T10:33:27.591-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 7</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - Wal-mart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so aside from the prices, what exactly is there to like about this place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got the insane mob, that loves to rush the place. (Read devastating article &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,458744,00.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got people that seem to have all the patience in the world, so they don't mind taking up all the space in that one aisle you need to be in while they stroll for their walk. You can't get around them, you can't get through them, and "pardon me" just gets you funny stares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are everywhere! They wreak serious havoc, destroying everything in their path. You've got customers who like to return things too. You know the one that stands in front of you in line, wants a full refund for their broken fax machine, and isn't leaving until he gets it, along with a plethora of gift cards. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty certain that fax machine didn't have bacon and toast in it BEFORE you took it home, but hey - he deserves some gift cards for all his troubles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now they have these 24 hour Wal-marts - because everybody needs something at 3am and where else can you go? OK so I thought I'd try this out. I hate mobs, and people in general, so I'm going to Wal-mart when I think no one else will be there. Funnily enough, there is NEVER a time at Wal-mart when people aren't there. And of course there is only one person on cash at this crazy hour. Well lucky me, I've been waiting in line for almost ten minutes when they decide to open another cash register. Except the cashier doesn't say "can I help whose next" instead she just points to the person closest to her and asks if she can help them.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter that I am next in line. You go on. I'll just stand here and wait for this lady to pay her $126. 93 bill, with pocket change... She puts another penny on the counter and looks at the till for her balance again. Still not enough? OK here, what does this dime bring my total to?&lt;br /&gt;What makes you think the total has changed from the last time you looked at it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to the staff at Wal-mart, you're just as bad. Why do you hire these greeters? I've never once been greeted by one of these so-called 'greeters' though I have been pulled over and had my bags ransacked. You know you're not a greeter, you are security. Just get a vest... and some hand grenades. Then you'll have every right to treat people like criminals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand there is an electronics department, and in that department they have their own cashiers. So if you aren't purchasing electronics, well you should probably go to the front of the store and purchase your items there. But what if you do have electronics? You're not allowed to leave the electronics department without purchasing your electronics. Fair enough. But I have other items, can you ring them all in? Of course not. I have to wait a solid 30 minutes, get through the whole rebating the bacon-toast-fax machine fiasco, only for you to tell me that you're only ringing through my electronics and I have to purchase the rest at the front cashiers. You know, where I have to wait another 60 minutes? How does that even make sense. I have a total of 5 items, 2 of them are electronics. By the time it took you to explain your decision to not ring through all of my items, you could have rang through all of my items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't give me a hard time, it is not MY fault you had to pay a guy for a broken fax machine, that you know he broke in the first place. Get some balls, and tell him no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not me. I'm an honest customer. Don't get all pissy with me.&lt;br /&gt;You got the wrong person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-2396204100240207541?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2396204100240207541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=2396204100240207541' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2396204100240207541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2396204100240207541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-really-grinds-my-gears-7.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 7'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-1232079713363921482</id><published>2008-11-25T21:09:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T22:35:47.777-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I smell a rant</title><content type='html'>Alright here's the latest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Missy Quinn, a 16 year old prostitute gets married. Actually it doesn't say anywhere in the article that she's a hooker, it's just hearsay, but google her, you'll agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This girl, aspires to be a model, lives in a trailer with her parents, drops out of school at age 9, meets her future husband at a carnival at age 13... and the list goes on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite the fact that her parents are in a trailer, they somehow came up with the money to fund this ridiculous farce:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;£100,000 - total circus costs (wedding expenses)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;£18,000 - the wedding gift from parents - a matching trailer (this is in addition to £100,000)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;£16,000 - crystal-studded bikini with 10ft tail (wedding dress)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;£700 - skanky hot pants worn by some random guest. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;£500 - the crystal bouquet (did she toss this?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;£350 - the babies outfits (how many babies?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that don't have a price tag:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- the matching implants for mom and daughter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- the queen's tiara&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- mom's specially designed dress, which is essentially a bra and a slip - that's right, underwear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;- Rolls-Royce Phantom that drove the circus to the church&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- the bucket of make-up and the artist that had to apply all of this to Missy's face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just can't get over it. I've read this a few times now and I'm shocked. The dad says things like "I was so proud of her on her wedding day." Proud of what? You just paid £100,000 to make your daughter look like a drag queen. For any of you that don't understand this currency, it works out to over $200,000 US dollars - or Canadian dollars, whichever is higher in value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother says "I was surprised they wanted to get married so young in this day and age. But we could see they were madly in love." OMG - they are 16 and 17, wait a few years, they'll be madly in love with the next big thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missy the bride, got married just 6 days after her 16th birthday and she has the gall to say "I've always wanted a big wedding and my dad has been saving for ages to pay for it." Really? Ages? You are 16 years old - how long could he have possibly been planning this wedding day? Well I guess since you dropped out of school at age 9, he just decided to put your college fund to good use.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some random trash bag says "it's just what we do at weddings. It's all very extravagant." OK so what part about hot pants and bikini top screams 'extravagant' to you? What made you say 'hey, I'm going to church for a big wedding, maybe I should buy a new pair of hot pants'? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There were kids as young as 9 wearing bikini tops, high heels and make-up. The article doesn't mention anything about pants or skirts here either, so who knows what is on the bottom half of these children?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How did daddy afford all of these things? It says he surfaces driveways for a living, I had no idea how good a living that was, but there you have it. His little princess wanted a big £100,000 wedding at the age of barely 16, so this seems a practical request.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want to know is:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why did dad and groom not dress it up a little? Couldn't they afford to spend a little on themselves?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why are there so many guests under the age of 10? Oh right, the couple is not that much older.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The bride gets married 6 days after her 16th birthday, at what age did she get those breast implants?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Does anyone else think groom looks very similar to dad? That's the father of the bride, but who knows. You know what they say about those trailer folk, it's not inbreeding, it's PURE BREEDING. The new headline should say "Missy Quinn marries brother"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is the link for the rest of the article (pictures were found at this link also):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1081355/The-100-000-white-wedding-16-year-old-girl-lives-caravan.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1081355/The-100-000-white-wedding-16-year-old-girl-lives-caravan.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272799702837875266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SSy_ZKtv0kI/AAAAAAAAABc/cwMXIR9ANio/s320/pic1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272800018750131090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SSy_rjlGS5I/AAAAAAAAABk/yK88wwpGEH4/s320/pic2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-1232079713363921482?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1232079713363921482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=1232079713363921482' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1232079713363921482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1232079713363921482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-smell-rant.html' title='I smell a rant'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SSy_ZKtv0kI/AAAAAAAAABc/cwMXIR9ANio/s72-c/pic1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-5430559055483327459</id><published>2008-11-19T11:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T14:48:16.132-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 6</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - ignorance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the top 5 people I came across yesterday that needed a smack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The guy on the bus who put his backpack on the seat beside him and proceeded to talk on his cell phone for the entire 30 minute bus ride. First off, there are people standing, and I'm positive your backpack didn't pay the $2.75 bus fare to ride. Get your bag off the chair and offer the nice lady a place to sit! I highly doubt your bag has a long day ahead of it, and I'm sure it won't be offended to be either put on the floor in front of you, or on your lap. Second, get off the phone. What could be so important at 6:30 in the morning that you have to annoy everyone else on the bus? Get a grip. Maybe if you weren't preoccupied with your cell phone you wouldn't be completely oblivious to the people standing, who could use your backpack's seat. This is equivalent to the person who sits on the aisle seat in a two-seater. I can't get by you to get to the window. Move your ass over. IGNORANCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The woman on the subway who has to be first off the train. The train conductor announces "next stop, Osgoode station" and this lady gets up, excuses herself (or just plain pushes) her way through the crowd and stands next to the door waiting for the train to stop. The train stops at Osgoode and the doors open. The lady doesn't budge. Of course there are people who actually need to get off at this stop but that doesn't seem to matter to this lady. She is completely unaware. People are trying to get both on and off the train and it seems as though this lady feels inconvenienced by this. The doors close and the train begins on it's way again. The conductor says "next stop St. Andrew station." I wonder if the lady will move this time. The train arrives at St. Andrew and the doors open and before they are completely open, the lady makes a run for it. It's imperative that she's the first on the escalator and out the door.&lt;br /&gt;I've attempted to beat this lady a few times just for kicks, once I got through the door first and she pushed me out of the way to get to the escalator. As long as she's first, nothing else matters. What's the rush, you ask? IGNORANCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The people who walk in big, slow groups. Nobody can pass you. If you're going to walk slowly, then try to walk single file, or in pairs - people want to get by. I'm far from rushed, and I have a pretty normal pace. Most people complain that I'm slow - but hey, my legs are short, I do the best I can. If I'm complaining about YOUR pace, then pick it up. The only reason you're walking slow is because you're chatting away with all your friends, you fail to realize the line up of traffic behind you. We can't get by, and you're pissing us off. "Excuse me" doesn't work, because you're speaking loudly or fail to listen. A nice shove usually works and that's certainly not beneath me. If you had half a brain, you'd have heard the "excuse me" and moved in the first place. IGNORANCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The person who has no direct path and no specific pace. This is a branch from point #3. I'm walking behind someone and I believe I'm catching up and ready to pass. This person slows down, speeds up, and makes a sharp 90 degree turn just as I'm trying to pass. OK you go left then, I'll go right.... Oh wait, you want to go right... How about I just stop all together and let you make up your mind? And the dirty look you just gave me, that was a wonderful touch. Hey dumb ass, it's YOUR fault that people walk into you. Right foot, left foot. It's not hard. IGNORANCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The people who don't understand the concept of a queue. We're all waiting in a line, what do you think it's for? What makes you think the line isn't meant for you? Get in it and wait your turn. Due to the four other people and groups of people that I met before you today, I'm really not in the mood to deal with your stupidity. You get in the line, or you get a good shove. At this point, I'm liking the sound of abuse. You'll take it. You're IGNORANT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-5430559055483327459?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/5430559055483327459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=5430559055483327459' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5430559055483327459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5430559055483327459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-really-grinds-my-gears-6.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 6'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-2137349276330701125</id><published>2008-11-06T11:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T11:51:49.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moustache November = MOVEMBER</title><content type='html'>Please spread the word and support this cause. The statistics just break my heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband is partaking in what is now called 'Movember'. For the month of November he will be growing a mustache. Unfortunately for me, due to his rugged Scottishness, I break out into hives when I kiss him, if he’s not clean-shaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, it is for a good cause! His mustache is for prostate cancer awareness. Should you wish to donate money to his cause, please see the information below. If you would like to sponsor him, I believe there is another link but I can’t be too sure – email my husband, Danny at &lt;a href="mailto:mikotoscot1610@yahoo.com"&gt;mikotoscot1610@yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who support the cause, and want to see Danny bear his mustache – please feel free to check the links below… For those who feel sorry for me and my unkissable ways – I’ll take donations too – money or smooches, I won’t complain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacki Star&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Hi All,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During Movember (the month formerly known as November) Danny Brown is growing a Moustache to help the fight against prostate cancer and I'm helping him raise funds and awareness because I'm into guys tackling their own health issues. You can donate to his moustache by either:&lt;br /&gt;1. Clicking this link &lt;a href="http://ca.movember.com/mospace/1810431" target="_blank"&gt;ca.movember.com/mospace/1810431&lt;/a&gt; and donating online using your credit card or PayPal account, or&lt;br /&gt;2. Writing a cheque payable to the ‘Prostate Cancer Research Foundation of Canada', referencing his Registration Number 1810431 and mailing it to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prostate Cancer Research Foundation of Canada&lt;br /&gt;Attn: Movember&lt;br /&gt;145 Front Street East&lt;br /&gt;Suite 306&lt;br /&gt;Toronto, Ontario&lt;br /&gt;M5A 1E3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donations are tax deductible to the extent permitted by law. The money raised by Movember is donated directly to the Prostate Cancer Research Foundation of Canada who will use the funds to create awareness and fund research across the country into prevention, detection and treatment, with a goal to ending the threat of prostate cancer.&lt;br /&gt;For those that have supported Movember in previous years you can be very proud of the impact it has had and can check out the details at: &lt;a href="http://ca.movember.com/outcomes/content/Fundraising-Outcomes/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;http://ca.movember.com/outcomes/content/Fundraising-Outcomes/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know...&lt;br /&gt;• Every year around 24,700 Canadian men are diagnosed with prostate cancer and about 4,300 die of the disease, making it the number one cancer threat to Canadian men.&lt;br /&gt;• 1 in 7 men will develop prostate cancer in their lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;• All men over the age of 40 are potentially at risk and should talk to their doctor about the disease and early detection. Prostate cancer is 95% curable if detected and treated early. Movember culminates at the end of month Gala Partés. If you would like to be part of this great night you'll need to purchase a &lt;a href="http://ca.movember.com/galatickets/index.php"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;http://ca.movember.com/galatickets/index.php&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; .Thanks for your support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More information is available at &lt;a href="http://www.movember.com/" target="_blank"&gt;www.movember.com/&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;A note from my husband personally:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to my good lady wife who promoted me very nicely while hiding her peed-offedness at my pending hairiness :)&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, the Movember event is to raise awareness of the importance for men to be checked regularly. The main focus is on Prostate Cancer awareness/prevention. Having lost a grandfather to this disease, it's something close to my heart.You can find more details at my blog:* &lt;a href="http://dannybrown.me/2008/11/01/remember-remember-the-month-of-movember/" target="_blank"&gt;dannybrown.me/2008/11/01/remember-remember-the-month-of-movember/&lt;/a&gt;Or you can go directly to my Movember donation page:* &lt;a href="http://ca.movember.com/mospace/1810431" target="_blank"&gt;ca.movember.com/mospace/1810431&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every little helps, and you can make donations in a variety of ways. Your name pops up as a donator and you receive a receipt so you know it's all legit. Anything you can donate will be gratefully accepted - it's for a great cause and something all guys (and their partners) should take seriously throughout the whole year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny Brown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-2137349276330701125?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2137349276330701125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=2137349276330701125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2137349276330701125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2137349276330701125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/moustache-november-movember.html' title='Moustache November = MOVEMBER'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-806649876029598871</id><published>2008-11-06T09:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T10:04:40.677-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ender's story</title><content type='html'>To all the die-hard Dashboard Confessional fans, please forgive me if any of my facts are skewed. I read this story a long time ago and it's all based on memory. Chris, same for you - it's more of a tribute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a guy named Chris Ender Carrabba. When he was young he came across a book called Ender’s Game (&lt;em&gt;by Orson Scott Card&lt;/em&gt;). He was drawn to it because of it’s unique title and aside from his own middle name he’d never seen “Ender” before. He read the book and was deeply enthralled. He introduced his friend to the Ender series and together they became creatures of habit, always reading, always role-playing, and discussing all things Ender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the two friends got into a heated argument that could not be reconciled. Years had passed and the two had not spoken. Chris decided to contact his old friend and reminisce on the old Ender days. It was easy for the two to remember the good ol’ days and so their friendship remained in tact – the argument long forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris being the singer/songwriter he is, decided to write a song about this… How Ender saved a couple of friends. The song is entitled Ender Will Save Us All – by Dashboard Confessional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day my friend called me and asked me if I wanted to go to the pet store with her. I said that I had no reason to go but I’d come along anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s been volunteering there and she saw a kitten that she loves and just wanted to visit.&lt;br /&gt;So I went with her into the room with all the cats. I sat on the bench and if any cats came to me I’d pet and play but if they didn’t then I’d leave them alone. I made no special effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one kitten came out of his cage and crawled on my lap and curled into a ball. He wasn’t sleeping he was just cuddling. He sat there for over an hour then he got off and sat beside me on the bench. He sat there for about 30 seconds just watching all the other cats play, then he crawled back on my lap and cuddled with me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He used my arm as a pillow and he let me pet him non-stop.&lt;br /&gt;My friend suggested that I take this little boy home, but I know better. My husband and I already own two cats and two dogs and although we love animals, I've already been threatened with divorce should I decide to bring another one home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went home without any animals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my husband the story and I asked if he’d come to the pet store with me the next day. I said that I didn’t expect anything and I’m sure he’d say no to more animals, but he had to come see this cute kitten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next day we went. My husband could not resist this cute kitten and so we brought him home. We named him Ender, and he’s so wonderful. He’s so curious and he walks around checking everything out. He seems particularly playful on the stairs. He’s great with the dogs and the other cats as well. The dogs like to sniff him and lick him clean and he’ll just sit there and let them. When the dogs try to sleep Ender wants to sleep with them too so he cuddles them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ender is a tough little guy who likes to play with everyone. He chases the other cats, the dogs' tails and when no one is in the mood to play, he happily plays with his own shadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ender book is excellent, the Ender book series is fabulous, the Ender song is timeless - and the kitten, well he's well suited for his name!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-806649876029598871?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/806649876029598871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=806649876029598871' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/806649876029598871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/806649876029598871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/enders-story.html' title='Ender&apos;s story'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-5756001955439922416</id><published>2008-11-06T09:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T09:36:54.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 5</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - trick-or-treaters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Halloween I had the pleasure of handing out candy to all the young kiddies. See now, I don't care how old you are, if you dress up in costume and you come knocking on my door then you get candy. This year I had a group of kids who were certainly of trick-or-treating age but couldn't be arsed to dress in costume. They come to my door and say "trick-or-treat" and I say "what are you supposed to be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They just smirk and shrug and pull the "I don't know."  Well I was nice and said "next year you come in costume or you get nothing at all. It's not fair to the other kids."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the little girls that come dressed up in costume and say "trick-or-treat" as they open their bag. I put candy in, and they close that bag and open a second bag. They don't even say trick-or-treat they just expect you to put more candy in. I say "what's this?" and they look at me as if I should already know "this is for my brother" ... "where is your brother?" and they point to their mother at the end of the driveway holding a stroller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well - I'm not so nice anymore and all my patience is lost - "if your brother can't walk up here and get the candy himself, then he's certainly not old enough to eat the candy. If you're so concerned then be a good sister and share YOUR candy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised how many kids pulled this gag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a man come to the door with his little baby who was just old enough to sit up, but probably not old enough to even crawl. The man said "trick or treat" and you know what... his baby was dressed in a little Winnie-the-Pooh costume. I don't care who eats the candy really, that man dressed his kid and took the time to walk him door to door, he gets candy! It's not like he stood at the bottom of the driveway and sent some kid up to the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this next one didn't happen to me, thankfully, but I was terribly appalled and thought it necessary to go in this edition of "grinds my gears."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The three ladies who brought their kids trick-or-treating. The kids were in costume, they were polite, they got the candy. Before the door was closed, the LADIES put their foot in the door and push their way in. They each have a bag of their own and they are begging for candy in a foreign language. They were rude and aggressive and wouldn't stop until all the candy was depleted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, ladies, uncostumed kids, and kids with baby brothers - it's people like YOU who ruin the holiday for everyone else. Next year, I'll be more prepared for people like you and I'll keep bags of goodies that smell suspiciously like dog poop. Ya, I DARE you to come to my door!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-5756001955439922416?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/5756001955439922416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=5756001955439922416' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5756001955439922416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5756001955439922416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-really-grinds-my-gears-5.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 5'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-2505224590319919822</id><published>2008-10-14T21:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T21:46:12.215-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Diary</title><content type='html'>So I had this epiphany last night as I tossed and turned for hours on end. How is it that my two wee dogs take up all the room on my fairly large bed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago I felt 'depressed' though I don't want to use that word because it's too melodramatic. It was more like I was empty inside, or half-empty anyways, and I couldn't figure out why. It's not like I have any reason to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a wonderful man, my soul mate, who flew half way around the world to sweep me off of my feet and give me my dream wedding. I have a houseful of cute, little, loving animals who almost always know how to fill a void, or entertain at best. I have a mother and best friend in one. Despite her emotional struggles she is always there for me and everyone else in whatever way we need. She's so completely selfless and I wonder why I didn't inherit any of those genes.&lt;br /&gt;I've got grandparents who came from a generation of close-mindedness but seem to understand the Internet love that joined my husband and I, better than anyone I know. They welcomed him with open arms and adopted him as their own son when they realized he had no family of his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truly, I'm very fortunate. So what am I missing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband noticed my blank stares from time to time and thought he should motivate me and challenge me in very creative ways. First he built a table and an 'art corner' for all my knick-knacks and art supplies, so that I could have a hobby. He supported my decision to go back to school part time as education is a form of mental stimulation, quite possibly the one I needed.&lt;br /&gt;He encouraged me to apply for a better paying job, saying that I'm a better candidate than anyone else he knows.... I got that job.&lt;br /&gt;Then he introduced me to three very sassy ladies who enjoy my passion for books, he set us up with a website for our new virtual book club just so that we can take it over and prevail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, what am I missing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a great job, great friends (both at home and at work), great life, and great books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The newest book series that I'm into is the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I find myself escaping and obsessing. I'd rather read than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when the epiphany hit. There must be something in Twilight that I'm lacking in my own life... The strong family ties. The vampires have their covens and the wolves have their pacts. They'd do anything to protect each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family is much bigger than husband and animals, extends beyond mom and grandparents. There is a whole other side. There is a brother with his wife and new daughter. There is a dad and his wife and their two young daughters. Then there are dad's brothers and sisters and all of my cousins as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all used to be so happy and close. We'd get together every month just to celebrate life.&lt;br /&gt;My brother treated me awfully my entire life. Abusing me both verbally and emotionally. He got married and things changed a bit.&lt;br /&gt;My dad's wife wasn't so great either with all of her mind games and craziness. She'd blame me for things that couldn't possibly be my fault. Secrets I'm not supposed to know and probably shouldn't share with the world. They are not my secrets to keep but they are not mine to tell either... Let's just leave it at 'being blamed for things I clearly was not involved in.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until I met my husband, I never really felt I had any choices. Had no where else to go. I thought life was supposed to be rough so I would just 'grin and bear it.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the last family reunion, my brother and his wife gave me the silent treatment. They avoided me like the plague. It was so obvious to everyone. My dad's wife made everything worse by instigating fights, separating us further by physical distance, snide and snarky remarks that include full-on insults toward my grandmother. My dad just stands there oblivious and chooses to ignore the obvious.&lt;br /&gt;As I left the reunion I gave a little shrug of the shoulders "I tried."  This was apparently cause for uproar and my dad snapped. He defended his son. PS his son is 30, this isn't about separating children in the playground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vowed not to ever be treated that way again.&lt;br /&gt;My husband showed me that I can be loved and treated with respect. He showed me that I deserve better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not seen or spoke to any of them since. I don't need a brother or a father. I avoid all situations like it. I won't force my family to choose but I won't make them feel awkward by having us all in the same room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I perfectly content with my husband in our house. I don't need the extended family atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I miss it. I miss my sisters and their innocence... they're far too young to understand.&lt;br /&gt;I miss my aunts, uncles, and cousins. I wonder about my niece and if I'll ever get to meet her.&lt;br /&gt;I miss that feeling of 'whole' ... of belonging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No amount of work and side projects can fill that void.&lt;br /&gt;Alas, I have my books and stories of how things could be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-2505224590319919822?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2505224590319919822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=2505224590319919822' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2505224590319919822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2505224590319919822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/dear-diary_14.html' title='Dear Diary'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-3271484869031153933</id><published>2008-09-23T20:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T20:20:19.671-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 4</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - the new lobster Subway sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes Subway think they can charge $17 for a sandwich? Who in marketing came up with this clever idea? It's like they are trying to compete with the Mr. Sub crab &amp;amp; seafood sandwich but are failing miserably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did they have a meeting with all the executives, accountants, and the top notch marketers of Subway and discuss all the ways in which they could up sell the crab sub from Mr. Sub? Are they not making enough money off of their $5 sandwiches, that they actually thought it was in their best interest to price this new one so ridiculously high?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What jackass came up with this plan? Was it the guy sitting in the back row who never contributes? Did the President of Subway call upon said Jackass and ask what he thought the company should do to enhance sales?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ummm maybe we should sell a sandwich for $17 - that would make us some money." To which the President responded "$17... that would make us money. Now what should we put on this $17 sandwich?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That same clever Jackass with his smug expression "lobster - people pay good money for lobster."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd personally like to sit in on this next meeting for two reasons. One, to see the look on the President's face when the accountants pull out the charts showing the significant decrease in revenue. And two, to explain it to the Jackass as I smack that smug look off his face, just before he's fired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Compliments of Tim MacDonald - it really grinds his gears too)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-3271484869031153933?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3271484869031153933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=3271484869031153933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/3271484869031153933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/3271484869031153933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-really-grinds-my-gears-4.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 4'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-9124375957382233976</id><published>2008-09-23T19:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T20:03:28.522-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 3</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - the new Mars bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone else seen the advertisement for the new Mars Caramel? Doesn't the Mars Original have caramel? I mean really, what was that gooey brown stuff that tasted like and had the same sticky consistency as caramel? If the new Mars bar has caramel but the original didn't - then what the hell were we eating before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't the advertisement be better off describing the new Mars bar as "exactly like the original - but with the word caramel now listed on the wrapper" ??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, now people aren't going to eat the original for fear of the unknown substance AND we sure as hell aren't going to try the NEW-oh-so-great Mars Caramel for the same reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's next? The new Chocolate-Covered Mars bar?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-9124375957382233976?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/9124375957382233976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=9124375957382233976' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/9124375957382233976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/9124375957382233976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-really-grinds-my-gears-3.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 3'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-6280450036145797369</id><published>2008-09-09T08:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T09:28:47.759-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>So apparently I have been getting grief for not updating my blog often enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I use my blog as somewhere to vent all of my thoughts and stories.&lt;br /&gt;I guess lately I don't have anything good enough to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I tell you the one about the drunken landlord yet?&lt;br /&gt;That's a good one! Let's start from the beginning, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So first, we had a horrible experience with buying a house and were left trying to find somewhere to rent. This has been discussed previously.&lt;br /&gt;So I have this friend who told me she had just moved into a house and the lady that she rents from has other houses available. What a find! So my friend tells me that I can trust this lady because she's lived in one of her houses for a few months now and has had no issues. If there is a problem, the landlady and her husband (AKA the "landlord") will rush right on over to fix it. AND my friend works with the lady so there will never be a time when I cannot get in touch with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sure enough, my husband and I start renting a house. We moved in on a Sunday and that was way too much work. I got stung by a bee and found out that I'm slightly allergic. It was enough to have my neck swell up and stiffen. I couldn't turn my head and I was in pain for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;So needless-to-say I was not in the mood to be unpacking.&lt;br /&gt;It's a good thing I took Monday off work, but I was still sick on Tuesday and had to take that off as well.&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm getting ahead of myself. On the Monday we had a strange visit from the landlord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I noticed some random guy standing in our driveway and loudly talking to the neighbours on either side of us. He kept walking across our lawn and then he was sitting on our front porch talking on his cell. I also noticed garbage in our driveway - an empty mickey of vodka. So I opened the door to pick up the garbage and the guy on the phone didn't even move over so I could get by him on the stairs. You'd think he would realize that he didn't live there and leave but no.&lt;br /&gt;So I picked up the garbage and brought it back in the house. I locked the door with the chain and asked my husband to investigate. Apparently the guy on the phone was brown-paper-bagging it and he called over his brother and cousin to join the driveway party. These guys are all friends of the landlord who apparently was the one who left the vodka in the driveway. He was drinking it straight - which explained why he couldn't walk or see straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided to come into our house but couldn't get passed the chained lock. As drunk as he was, he still managed to try the side door. Success - he got into our house and walked up the stairs. Apparently he was looking for the bathroom. My husband escorted him out and locked the side door. The landlord went to the backyard and peed there. He then came back through the side door.&lt;br /&gt;I was sure that my husband locked it but let's for argument sake, say he didn't. The lock is inside the door handle so I was assuming maybe he just didn't turn it the right way or something.&lt;br /&gt;So again the stupid landlord is escorted out and I triple check the lock. It's definitely locked but yet the landlord is still able to come in a third time.&lt;br /&gt;I call my friend, she tells the landlady, and the landlady is over in less than 30 minutes picking up her drunken husband. All his driveway friends flee the scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I am in the backyard with the puppies. Remember, I have taken the day off work because I am sick, I am really not in any kind of mood. The drunken landlord shows up again.&lt;br /&gt;It's friggen 10 in the morning and yet there he is, stumbling and slurring.&lt;br /&gt;He says he came over to cut the grass. So I said I'd take the dogs inside. He says "you don't have to take them inside. I like you, I don't know why I like you but I like you. Do you like me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said "if you're here to cut the grass I will take the dogs inside." He asked me again if I liked him so I just told him where to go. "No - you're drunk and you walk into my house. Stay here while I go get my husband."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went into the house and he took off. Thank goodness.&lt;br /&gt;The landlady came by on the third day of living in this crazy house to explain that her husband will not be doing that anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's good - him and his driveway buddies have not been back.&lt;br /&gt;There are tons of problems with this place and my husband and I refuse to call the landlords. They either don't show up, or they come drunk and do nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are useless!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-6280450036145797369?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6280450036145797369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=6280450036145797369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6280450036145797369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6280450036145797369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-7794138972438207215</id><published>2008-08-05T11:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T20:05:52.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 2</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears - people on escalators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First there is a line up of people waiting to get on the escalator. Most people understand the rule "walk left, stand right" so this line up is for the right. Why not just walk on the left? Are you that lazy that you have to wait to get on the escalator?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are those who don't follow the rule of "walk left, stand right" and they just stand wherever they feel like it. See now this pisses me off because I'm trying to encourage people to walk up the escalators and they can't do that if you're in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I hate most about escalator people is those who have to wait a few seconds before making the big leap to that first step. What are they waiting for? You see them walk at full speed to get to the escalator and then just stop. It's like they're trying to judge which step to get on. Just get on! if you happen to step halfway between two steps then take that extra step once you are on. It takes a minute before the escalator starts to escalate so it's not like you're going to fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'mon... You can do it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-7794138972438207215?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7794138972438207215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=7794138972438207215' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7794138972438207215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7794138972438207215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-really-grinds-my-gears-2.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 2'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-2750489817121166852</id><published>2008-07-23T13:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T13:51:11.654-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Really Grinds My Gears - 1</title><content type='html'>You know what really grinds my gears, the lady on the subway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the one I'm talking about, the one who makes room to read the paper while the rest of us are struggling to find a handle or bar to hold on to. What's really important in that daily free paper anyways? Was it so urgent to find out how Angelina's twins are, or that it's raining. Could you not have waited until you got to the office to find this out? I mean, you already know it's raining outside. Instead, you just stand there in the middle of a crowded subway train rapidly flipping through the pages of this massive paper. It's OK that I have some severe paper cuts on my upper arm from you and your paper, because now you know that Angelina's twin girls might be fraternal. In the time it took you to flip through that entire paper, you couldn't have possibly read anything else.&lt;br /&gt;It's a good thing that those two seats became available, you and your paper need them. Don't feel shy, you go ahead and take both seats. Who knows what damage could happen to your legs from standing on them for ONE EXTRA STOP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman, if I see you tomorrow I'll be sure to tell you the overnight gossip as I roll up your paper and smack you around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's what really grinds my gears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-2750489817121166852?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2750489817121166852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=2750489817121166852' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2750489817121166852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2750489817121166852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-really-grinds-my-gears-1.html' title='What Really Grinds My Gears - 1'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-3983040007057319616</id><published>2008-07-16T11:56:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T19:58:38.364-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Again</title><content type='html'>So you'd think that I'd have plenty to say given that I got married, went on a honeymoon, got dogs, lost a home, found another home, and am moving out this weekend. Strangely enough, I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wedding was super awesome and I couldn't have asked for a better day. I was going to use this opportunity to blog about my brother and his selfishness but it's just not worth my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The honeymoon was fabulous, we met some great people and I can't wait to vacate with them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The losing of the home is a long, very upsetting story. I won't go into too many details but basically Danny and I were pre-approved for a mortgage. We found a very great house that we loved and put in an offer. The offer was accepted and we started making plans. We had already given our 60 day notice on our apartment because we knew we'd find a house and we hate the landlords of this apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone else has taken our place and we have to be out by July 31st. Then our mortgage broker waits &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;until&lt;/span&gt; the evening of the 5th and final day to get the paperwork sorted, can't do it. Makes up many excuses and has our realtor write us an email explaining that we did not get the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so unprofessional and so devastating. Now we're left without a home, and what apartment will take in 4 animals?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky for us, we have some good friends with good connections. We found a house to rent! I'm actually excited about this because there is no risk involved. Supposing something bad should happen, the landlords are responsible and not me. Which is a huge weight lifted off our shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;It gives us time to put ourselves in a better position financially and also for Danny to have been in the country for a few years with a status. This will help in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our realtor had the nerve to tell us that 0% financing is being abolished in October so we need to get on the house search again. Danny told her where she can shove it. Some nerve! As if we'd buy a house from you and your broker after all the heartache you put us through!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, back to the good stuff. We get our house this weekend and I'm very happy to get out of this dump of an apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those considering moving to the beaches - don't. It's over-priced and over-rated. Unless you are owning a property, I'd suggest living anywhere else but here. The beach is a public place, you can visit any time you like for FREE. Why spend a fortune renting here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-3983040007057319616?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3983040007057319616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=3983040007057319616' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/3983040007057319616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/3983040007057319616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/07/time-again.html' title='Time Again'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-8337506469647697632</id><published>2008-05-14T19:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T20:15:16.928-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah</title><content type='html'>Not feeling so good today. Just one of those days. You know the days when you don't feel like cooking or going out so you order take out? The days you think "hey, Swiss Chalet is cheap. Let's order that" ?? The days when you lie on the couch wondering why the heck you just ate Swiss Chalet when you know it makes you sick every time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLAH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note... Did I mention I started my own company? I figured, why not? My fiance runs his own business and co-owns a second business. He's doing what he really loves so why can't I do what I really love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I had to decide what I really love. I have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BSc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in Science. It started off as a degree in chemistry but I didn't really enjoy that. So instead of focusing on one topic I did them all. Left university and found a job in customer service. Typical. I am now in the billing department which I enjoy but am not passionate about.&lt;br /&gt;So again, what am I passionate about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I love taking pictures. I love music. So I got a gig at photographing concerts. That was pretty sweet for a while. I got to meet tons of cool bands. But I needed it to be official. So I got a diploma in photography and bought me a really expensive camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized I'd rather just go to the concert and enjoy the music. Taking pictures was a chore. So that's another degree I can chalk up to "wasted effort."&lt;br /&gt;I also love to read. Avid reader. Because I read, I am really good at detecting errors.&lt;br /&gt;*Side note: I'm a READER, not a WRITER. I'm not very good at detecting my own errors, so no blog judgement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to tutor people in English, and edit college and university papers. I have a knack for that so I got a job as a part time copy editor. Bought a bunch of books on copy-editing and proofreading so that I'd be well informed on all of the styles that the client would need. But this is just part time and there is not a lot of income. At this point there is not a lot to edit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do I enjoy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;listening to music&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;reading books&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;taking pictures&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;science (maybe)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well reading is a hobby, I wish I could make a job out of that but it's highly unlikely. Anyone out there want to pay me to read? I'll do it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Assuming that won't happen, I needed to look beyond. So I've started my own T-shirt company. Well I'm taking the baby steps to start my own company. I have my domain and company name. I have a T-shirt wholesaler. I have the software to make designs. I have even made a few designs just to test the software. Software is pretty cheap and it doesn't make me the quality that I want.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am fully capable of designing AND I am fully capable of taking photographs. So I have decided to blend them both by selling my photographs on clothing. It won't be long before I can afford the machinery to make it happen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I can still do my billing job full time, my copy-editing/proofreading job part time, run my own business, read (possibly scientific books) on my spare time, and listen to music while doing all of the above.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-8337506469647697632?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8337506469647697632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=8337506469647697632' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8337506469647697632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8337506469647697632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/05/blah.html' title='Blah'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-7373541163752028318</id><published>2008-05-13T00:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T01:18:30.107-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomnia</title><content type='html'>I can't sleep. I figure now is a good time to write. I feel I have too much on my plate at the moment but it's kind of exciting too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting married in 10 days, I'm going on my honeymoon the day after the wedding. The day we return from our honeymoon we get not one, but TWO new additions to the family. 30 days after that we move to another place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll look back at my last few weekends instead, looking forward is quite dizzying. Two weekends ago my bridesmaids threw me a surprise bridal shower. I had absolutely no idea! Even my fiance was in cahoots and didn't say a word. It was so easy for them to keep it from me it seems. Danny just says to me on a Friday evening, "Tim (best man) called, he wants us to come over on Sunday." On Sunday morning, Danny says "what time do you want to leave?" I say "Do you think we have enough money for a day trip?" He says "not really, we can stay home if you want, just let me know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early afternoon we go anyways and SURPRISE almost every woman I know was at my best friend's house. It was so nice to see everyone and I had so much fun. Maybe I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;biased&lt;/span&gt; because it was a shower for me and all, but it wasn't one of those typical, dreadful showers. There weren't any awkward games and everyone seemed to have a good time.&lt;br /&gt;The gifts were incredible, the food was delicious, and I can't stress enough how great the whole day was!&lt;br /&gt;My step-dad's mother came too. She's a wonderful lady. I can't believe how far she travelled just to come, which I thought was so very nice. She also brought a gift from her cousin, a woman I have never met before. I was touched. They didn't have to do that! I am grateful and I can't seem to express this enough.&lt;br /&gt;My sister-in-law didn't come. She didn't even RSVP. I'm actually not surprised. As you can tell by my previous blog, my brother and sister-in-law are so self-absorbed that they don't seem to notice anything besides themselves. It's awful. I was there every step of the way when it was their wedding. And again for their first baby. I don't drive and yet I was able to commute from East Toronto to North &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Brantford&lt;/span&gt; for all of their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-wedding and wedding events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day, they haven't even replied to the wedding invite. 10 days before my wedding and I couldn't even tell you if my brother is coming. How horrible is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on to more positive things. This past weekend my girls threw me a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bachelorette&lt;/span&gt; party. There were only four of us: myself, my maid of honour, my chief bridesmaid, and a good friend.&lt;br /&gt;It was nice and intimate and I loved every minute of it. We all bonded quite nicely. Mind you, I'm bonded to them already obviously, but it was nice for them to bond. We all live in different cities so it's not common for us all to hang out together. I met each of them separately and if it wasn't for me, they would not know each other. I think it's fantastic that they all get along so well... you know how girls can be... but not MY girls! We're just not like that, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I won't go into details about the evening, but I will say that I got on top of the bar and removed my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;brassiere&lt;/span&gt;. Unfortunately the bar closed before midnight.... I guess we were just too much fun for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I had a family &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;barbecue&lt;/span&gt; at my mom's house. Danny and I decided to get everyone together one last time before the wedding to say thanks for all of their hard work. My dad didn't seem too happy to be there and I think my step-mom is getting crazier each day. But at least she was happy and pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall try again to go to sleep, if I am unsuccessful, you may be reading another blog shortly!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-7373541163752028318?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7373541163752028318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=7373541163752028318' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7373541163752028318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7373541163752028318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/05/insomnia.html' title='Insomnia'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-8503032861783490311</id><published>2008-05-03T11:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T15:40:39.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bridezilla</title><content type='html'>So here I am getting married in less than three weeks. Usually, I am a pretty laid-back, easy going person who just goes with the flow. I do have some pretty definite ideas for how I want this wedding to go, but at the same time I do NOT want to become bridezilla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've never been a bride before, I'm not entirely sure what jobs I'm supposed to handle, what jobs my groom should be in charge of, or what we should delegate to the bridal party. Now I'm really trying to avoid being bridezilla so I've decided to basically do everything myself. Once in a while I'll throw a bone to the groom so he knows he's still involved in this wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd give an itinerary of all the things that have happened thus far, all the things I've done and all of the things that have been done by others... Based on this list, you can tell me if you'd be a bridezilla by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I call mom and announce we are engaged. Of course she knew it was coming but acts surprised and excited nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;- I call dad to announce the engagement. "Dad, I'm engaged." His response: "I know." Well I figure Danny asked his blessing but I still have the urge to say "How do you know? I could have said no when Danny asked." Dad says "well we still need to talk about this in person, Danny asked my blessing but really I know that he was going to ask you regardless of my answer." Well at this point, there is no point in arguing with Dad so I say "Dad, can you call the family and let them know the good news?" He says "sure."&lt;br /&gt;- Three weeks later, I call the family to announce the news and the date. They are all shocked because my father failed to inform any of them... Thanks Dad.&lt;br /&gt;- We booked the chapel and tried to convince my father to pay for it. We were successful.&lt;br /&gt;- We booked the reception hall and mom offered to pay. This may have been a bad decision because now she holds all the cards in reception arrangements. Apparently it means she picks the guest list and decides where everyone sits. I'm surprised she doesn't want a say in the menu.&lt;br /&gt;- Our Bridal Party. This is fun. I won't use names as they are irrelevant. I have chosen a maid of honour (MOH), bridesmaid #1 (B1), Bridesmaid #2 (B2), and Bridesmaid #3 (B3 - who also happens to be my 12 year old sister - so let's cut her some slack.) Danny chooses a best man (BM - also happens to be the MOH's fiance), groomsman #1 (G1 - from UK), groomsman #2 (G2 - from UK), and groomsman #3 (G3 - who also happens to be my brother but he's 30 so no slack for him).&lt;br /&gt;- G3 calls and says he doesn't feel comfortable wearing a kilt and is opting for tartan pants. Let the record show that MY family is a good percentage of Scottish and it would not be abnormal for my brother to wear a kilt. My father wore one at his wedding.&lt;br /&gt;- Danny (100% Scottish) explains that all groomsmen must wear kilts as this is standard Scottish tradition, but we totally understand if he doesn't feel comfortable. It's not for everyone. If he does not want to wear the kilt than he can back out of the bridal party. No hard feelings. Danny gives him time to think about his decision but asks if he could respond within two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;- Three weeks later, we have not heard a word back from G3 so Danny takes this as a sign of bridal party departure and decides to replace him with Rob. I'll use Rob's name to avoid confusion.&lt;br /&gt;- Two weeks later, Danny receives an email from G3. The email states that G3 can not wear a kilt and thus is backing out of the wedding (thanks tips). HOWEVER, B2 "will also be backing out of the wedding. As she is my wife, she does not feel comfortable being in the bridal party without me."  Um... are they 12 years old? Seriously! "I can't do it if he doesn't do it." Who behaves like that? I wasn't even pairing them up to begin with hence B2 and G3 - different numbers.&lt;br /&gt;- Oh well, ultimately I am happy about this decision. I only asked B2 because of G3. I didn't feel right asking my brother and sister to be a part of this special day without asking my sister-in-law. Now that they are out, I can ask people I actually wanted. So B2 is replaced by Jaclyn (Jac). This is my best decision yet. I wanted Jac from the beginning so I bump her up to the B1 position.&lt;br /&gt;- I explain to the remainder of my bridal party how selfish my brother and sister-in-law are. Did I say selfish? I meant childish, immature, and inconsiderate - but we can stick with selfish.&lt;br /&gt;- I go dress shopping with B2. It is damn near impossible to get everyone together at the same time so I decide to take everyone individually. Remember B2 was originally B1 - at this point, she still thinks she is. I try on wedding gowns, she tries on bridesmaid gowns. This is ultimately a good day.&lt;br /&gt;- I take B3 dress shopping. This is my little sister, remember. We go into several stores and I pick tons of random things off of the racks. The women that work at these shops ask B3 if she has any particular dress in mind. Her response is always the same: "this is not my day, this a day for my sister. Whatever she wants, I will wear." Yup, that's right. My 12 year old sister has her priorities straight. She is more mature than my 30 year old brother and his wife.&lt;br /&gt;- I take MOH shopping. She tries on plenty of dresses and we find the one which I liked best on B3. It looks outstanding on her. I have made up my mind. This is the dress I want for my bridesmaids.&lt;br /&gt;- I check out the all the websites that carry this dress. I find all the stores within an hour driving radius. I call every single one of them to ask the price. I find out that generally the price is listed at $220, some stores charge more - none charge less. I find one crazy old woman who speaks very little English. She says the dress is listed at $220 but if we come to her she will give us a discount. Best offer.&lt;br /&gt;- I call all the bridesmaids and let them know. B2 tells me that she cannot afford more than $200 so I will have to pick another dress.&lt;br /&gt;- I am NOT picking another dress - it took over a week to gather all the information on the first dress. Plus, I do not remember reading in any bridal book that the bridesmaid makes this decision. MOH and B1 agree - if I want to pick a puffy, bubblegum pink dress for my bridesmaids, than that is what they wear. They are all happy that the dress I have chosen is beautiful, simple, and not puffy and bubblegum pink. $220 is reasonable and if it comes down to it we can pitch in the rest of the money for B2. Really, what is an extra $20 in the grand scheme of things. Plus, maybe the crazy lady will give them all a $20 discount and that brings the dress to an even $200. Was it really worth it for B2 to complain?&lt;br /&gt;- One week before dress day (still a good 8 months before the wedding) B2 calls me in hysterics. She can't be in the wedding. It is a hard decision for her, but ultimately she is under too much stress and the doctor said to remove things from her plate. Well no one wants stress, and believe me, I understand panic attacks. I do not mind this decision and I let her know that there are no hard feelings.&lt;br /&gt;- I ask Danny if he is 100% confident that his half of the bridal party is secure. He says that no way will the guys from the UK miss this event and we know BM and Rob are a sure thing.&lt;br /&gt;- This means I have to find yet another replacement for the bridal party. I ask my coworker. She is so happy with this decision that she accepts with open arms and I'm pretty sure I saw a single tear. She will now be referred to as Replacement-B2 (R-B2).&lt;br /&gt;- Things are good now. I take the girls for the dress fitting. This is actually a horror story because of the crazy old lady. She doesn't speak much English at all and she's got some sort of congestion problem which results in much hacking and honking. Everyone gets measured - fully dressed. Does that even make sense? I'm pretty sure that I am not the same size in undergarments that I am in jeans and a wool sweater - I can't speak for the rest of the ladies but this truly does seem illogical to me. I mention this to the crazy lady but she assures me that she's been doing this for years and doesn't make mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;- Crazy lady charges $185 post-tax for each dress. That almost made it worth putting up with all her antics. That's a pretty good deal. I explain that my sister is to be treated like all the other bridesmaids. Just because she is younger, does not make her a "junior."&lt;br /&gt;- 2 days later I get a call from the crazy lady. She says that Alfred Sung does not make that dress in a junior. I bite my tongue so not to scream and I politely say "I do not want a junior." She says "well what are you going to do about the little girl?" I say "I would like for her to have the same dress as the other three." Crazy lady says "I cannot do that." Now I am frustrated. I have a hard enough time speaking slowly enough for her to pick up the language. I say "Look, what would you do if a really small lady came in there and wanted that dress?" No answer. I say "If you cannot order the dress in a smaller size for my sister, I will find someone who can." Crazy lady seems to understand the tone. "OK, I order a size 6." I respond "No, you will order a size 4." She says "OK, I order six. Bye." I hang up the phone and have decided to take my losses with the size 6. At least my sister will have a dress. We can take it elsewhere to alter.&lt;br /&gt;- MOH and BM are now MIA. We call, we leave messages, we email, we text. No response. It's a little annoying but I can cope as I do not need my MOH at this point anyways, she has already been for her fitting and there are no arrangements to be made. Danny however is trying to get the guys together to get fitted for their kilts. He emails the guys in the UK. Obviously they cannot make it to the fitting but they should be able to get sized in the UK and send their sizes along with a deposit over to Danny so that he can get their kilts ordered for them. No response from G1 and G2. Apparently all of the UK is having problems with phone and Internet at this time. So that leaves Rob, and my dad. Yes even my dad decides to show up because he wants to wear a kilt to the wedding. Dad refused to wear a kilt without Danny's approval. His logic is that showing up wearing something similar as the groom is just as bad as someone showing up to a wedding dressed in white. How would I feel? Good point Dad! Danny is thrilled that Dad wants to show his Scottish heritage and invites my Dad to come kilt fitting. Danny wants me there as well and according to the books, it is not taboo for the bride to see the groom in his outfit so I agree.&lt;br /&gt;- Kilt fitting day. Danny, Rob, Dad. No word from BM or guys in UK. Danny and Rob suit up. Dad and I look for another kilt. He is permitted to wear a kilt but not the same tartan as the bridal party - this is a no-no. Dad and I agree that he would look dapper in the National Scotland tartan. He suits up. Done and dusted.&lt;br /&gt;- BM calls. He is sorry he missed the kilt day and arranges another date for kilt fitting. He brings MOH and the four of us go kilt fitting. It's a long process but super fun. Some how it ultimately leads us to the Toronto Humane Society where we spend a good four hours. MOH and BM get a dog. YAY - total segue but that damn dog is so cute.&lt;br /&gt;- Somewhere in the middle of all these things I have gone dress shopping for a wedding gown. Several stores later, my mom and I are feeling hopeless. I have my sights on a dress that I saw in a magazine and have not found in a store. I have called around. Many stores can order it but none carry the dress as a sample to try on. If I decide to order it it will be $1200. I did not want to spend this much on a dress but nothing else seems perfect enough to buy. We hit one last store feeling defeated. We decide that if we find nothing we will spend the money and order the expensive dress. Surprise, surprise. I find a dress! Let me take the time to recommend this store. It is called Elizabeth Stuart (maybe Stewart) Discount and it's located in Mississauga, Ontario. They have dresses in every size and you buy off the rack. Unlike other stores where you buy off the rack, this is not a clearance warehouse. They have several dresses and all are kept clean and perfect. The best part is that all dresses are $699 or less! So not only do I find one dress, I find three that I am torn between. The nice lady at the store helps me in and out of all three several times. She said that you have to compare and this is the most important day of my life. No pressure. I pick my dress and after tax it is still less than $600! No more about the dress - Danny reads this, he is not allowed to know what the dress looks like.&lt;br /&gt;- Part of the deal with the reception hall we chose is that we have a wedding night gala. This happens every year in February for all of the brides and grooms getting married at the hall that year. You go, taste all the food, meet DJs, possible photographers and meet tons of other bride/groom couples. It's a great night. Well Danny and I have not received our invite to this gala at this point and need to know when it is so that we can book our Jack and Jill (J&amp;amp;J, stag and stagette, buck and doe, etc.) on a different date. I email the reception hall. They say the date hasn't been set but it is always a Saturday in February.&lt;br /&gt;- Danny and I call the legion that my dad is a member with. *Note - throwing a J&amp;amp;J is the job of the bridal party, but no one seems to be taking charge here so Danny and I take over. We ask to book a date for a Saturday either beginning of March or end of February. We ask what is available. *Note - when I say "we" I actually mean "me." I am the one planning this party.&lt;br /&gt;- Legion provides three dates: Feb 23, Mar 1, or Mar 8. I really like Feb 23. I think this is cute because Danny and I are getting married on May 23. I think we should stick to the same number. Numbers are irrelevant when it comes to J&amp;amp;Js no one remembers them anyways. I decide against Feb 23 knowing that the Gala can quite possibly be on this date. I ask Danny what he prefers Mar 1 or Mar 8. This is my way of getting him involved. He chooses Mar 1st. I remind him that the typical payday is Mar 6. He chooses Mar 8 based on this new information. I had already called the Legion and booked Mar 8, but at least Danny feels he has contributed.&lt;br /&gt;- BM, Rob, and R-B2 cannot make it to the March 8th J&amp;amp;J. We decide to have it without them. We ask everyone in the bridal party to contribute a door prize and $20 for the caterer. Door prizes do not have to be bought. If you have something in your house that has never been opened or used you can donate that. Everyone has gifts they want to re-gift. R-B2 cannot contribute anything or donate money. Again, more excuses but I can't keep up.&lt;br /&gt;- We get our invite to the Gala. Saturday March 1st. Well lucky we didn't pick March 1st for the J&amp;amp;J after all. I don't remember the last time March 1st fell in the month of February and am now a little disappointed with the reception hall.&lt;br /&gt;- I arrange a meeting with the bridesmaids. It's a fun sleepover at my mom's house. Mom is not there - home alone, fun fun! This meeting is to discuss the J&amp;amp;J and thus B3 is not needed. She is too young to come to the J&amp;amp;J so there is no point in her helping plan it. R-B2 can't make it. At this point I actually forget her excuse. Meh, she's not really needed. MOH and B1 will be there and that is all I need. We discuss games and prizes and duties for all. Guys will be told what their duties are as they have made no arrangements otherwise. Then we drink the night away.&lt;br /&gt;- Next morning we have scheduled a trial run for hair and then to pick up the bridesmaid dresses. Hair is a disaster. The girl does OK with me but it hurts like a son-of-a-bitch and within two hours I am playing the "find all the bobby pins" game with Danny. If he didn't help, I likely would have got out the scissors. MOH's hair looks OK but within 5 minutes (no exaggeration) it looks like it did before we went in there. That's a bad sign. B1 opts out of getting her hair trial done. Good call.&lt;br /&gt;- On our way to the crazy lady's shop to pick up the dresses we call B3 to see how her dress looked as she was supposed to have went with my dad to pick it up that morning. My dad picks up the phone and says that my sister is not home. She slept at a friend's house. Well that is not acceptable, everyone knew that we were meeting to pick up the dresses. My dad had already said that he was unable to meet with us but would go earlier that morning. Let me back up a bit, my mom (not the mother of B3) offered to pay for B3's dress because my dad paid for the church. Dad seems to think this is a fair arrangement, even knowing my mom has already paid for the reception. A long time ago I mailed the remainder of the balance ($85) to my dad so that he could pick up the dress for my sister as he was unable to make it at the time that we were all going. This is why I sent him the money.&lt;br /&gt;- R-B2 has already announced she couldn't make it again. Something about not having the remainder balance of $85. She says she'll pick up the dress when she has the money. I tell her that is not an option, we are not leaving any dresses in that crazy lady's store. I come up with the money, R-B2 can pay me back when she has the money herself.&lt;br /&gt;- So now, my dad says he cannot make it at all to pick up the dress. That means that myself, MOH, and B1 are all standing in Crazy Lady's store stranded with not enough money to pick up the dresses. I have already covered R-B2's money and we each find enough money in our pockets and wallets to make up for B3. We take our dresses and leave the store.&lt;br /&gt;- We go directly to my dad's house to get the envelope of money that I had mailed him before. My sister answers the door with a sad look on her face. I told her that I was not impressed. She knew she had to pick up the dress that day. She said that she was supposed to come home at 9AM but her parents (my dad and stepmom) did not pick her up. They kept making excuses and she only just now got a ride home from her friend's parents. I believe my sister. She gets the money, I show her the dress. She asks if she can keep it. I told her no. I said that I would prefer to keep it at my house and I'll take her for alterations some time soon. Dad and Stepmom have blew their chances of seeing the dress.&lt;br /&gt;- Now it's time to make flower arrangements. I find a place, I go by myself. I pick out everything I want. The flower lady asks me if I want wrist corsages or pinned corsages for the mothers-of-the-bride. She also asks what colour their dresses are so that she can match the corsages. I told her I'd get back to her with that information.&lt;br /&gt;- Mom and I take our dresses to get altered. Mom has a hot little number. It's beautiful, red, simple and very classy. We try on our dresses for the seamstress. Another pleasant surprise, my dress needs no alterations. It fits perfectly. We just need to add a bustle. For those that don't know what a bustle is, it is a ribbon placed on the train of the dress so that once the chapel and picture portion of the evening is over you can tie it up and it doesn't drag. Very simple - no one sees the ribbon it's just there to tie up the dress. For some reason this costs $140. I ask why it's so expensive and the seamstress explains that she will also be steaming the dress and this is manual labour. My mom agrees that steaming is labour intensive and she'd pay the $140 when we come back to pick up the dress.&lt;br /&gt;- I tell my mom after that it would be cheaper to purchase a steamer and do this ourselves. Jac actually has a steamer and has offered to do it for free. Mom agrees this is a good idea. She always wanted a steamer and can justify this purchase. Seamstress gets little to no money for my dress - it doesn't cost more than $10 for a friggen piece of ribbon. Later mom, cops out on the steamer and pays the seamstress to do it anyways. Waste of money.&lt;br /&gt;- Gala night (March 1st). We met great people. At our table there were 2 Jaclyns (me being one of them), 2 Mr. Browns (Danny being one of them), a Helen and a Kelen. Got to love that set up. Wonderful people all of them, and this was by far the best part of the night. The waitress, Maria, was a joke. She screwed up everything and continued to forget about us. The wine was awful, the bread was cold and believe me, here lies a long list of complaints. Considering this is the place we are having our reception we are not pleased in the least.&lt;br /&gt;- Danny confronts me. He has not heard from the UK boys and announces that they will likely not come to the wedding. He does not want to have them replaced. We decide 4 girls and 2 guys is ok. No more changes to bridal party.&lt;br /&gt;- J&amp;amp;J morning (March 8th). Snowstorm. No one can make it, not even our bridal party. I breakdown and lock myself in the bathroom. I pour a nice, warm bath. My cat scratches so I decide to unlock the door and let him in. I stop caring about everything. I decide that maybe having this wedding wasn't such a great idea. We should have saved our money and bought a house instead. At some point I must have kicked the plug out as I'm lying in an empty bathtub, cold and wet. I'm so distraught that I fail to notice.&lt;br /&gt;- Danny comes in, wraps me in a towel and explains to me that all is ok. He spent the last hour calling everyone to let them know that the J&amp;amp;J has been postponed to April 5th. He chose April 5th because this was a day when all the bridesmaids were going to get together and go on a road trip to Windsor. Side Note* This was arranged as a gift from R-B2 to myself. She is unable to afford a wedding gift but would like to take me out to Windsor along with my girlfriends to throw a bachelorette party. As she knows people there, it won't cost her a dime. MOH and B1 have decided this is not a good idea as no one has extra cash and no one feels right taking advantage of the generosity of R-B2's friends. Danny knowing all of this chooses April 5th as the rescheduled J&amp;amp;J night because he knows everyone was available. Good call Danny! The Legion is aware that we are moving the date and they have generously moved our deposit over to that date as well so no money is lost.&lt;br /&gt;- The caterer has all the food prepared and drops it off at my mom's house. Mom invites my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, my brother and sister-in-law and their newborn over to the house to try the food. The rest is taken to a homeless shelter. Did you notice anyone missing? That's right, mom conveniently forgot to invite Danny and I over to eat the food that WE paid for. Feeling terrible about this, mom offers to pay the caterer for the new April 5th date. Again, no money lost.&lt;br /&gt;- R-B2 emails me saying she cannot make it to the April 5th J&amp;amp;J. Family crisis. Well all the excuses leading up to this I just don't have the patience. I bite my tongue yet again, and just say "well it's a good thing we called off that trip to Windsor." Turns out R-B2 and her brother needed that Windsor hotel room as a place to crash during this family crisis. Fishy? I think so too, but let's move on.&lt;br /&gt;- Rob cannot make it to the April 5th J&amp;amp;J but contributes a kick ass raffle prize instead. BM CAN make it to the April 5th J&amp;amp;J and since the DJ for the J&amp;amp;J is MIA BM has offered to provide the music. Note* the DJ we asked to play the March 8th J&amp;amp;J is my cousin. He had no ride and did not respond to any attempts to contact him. To this day, I still don't know where he is. It was a good thing for the BM having all the equipment. There was no need for my DJ cousin to show up at all... and sure enough, he didn't.&lt;br /&gt;- April 5th J&amp;amp;J. Despite the turnout, it was a success. Danny and I were disappointed with those that said they would show up and didn't. We were estimating double the amount of people and because of that we overpaid/overworked the caterer. For the people that did come, thank you! They were more than supportive in the cause.&lt;br /&gt;- April 7th - I receive an email from R-B2. She cannot be in the wedding. Let the record show this is SIX WEEKS BEFORE THE WEDDING. She's upset that I didn't ask her about her family crisis and thus I am a bad friend. I bit my tongue and said "sorry to hear that you feel that way. I only meant to give you your space in your time of need." I forward this email to Danny and he was just not so nice to R-B2. He let her have it. She responds to him insulting me and my friendship. He does not take kindly to this either and again, does not hold back. She responds to me saying that she should have handled this better and hopes we can be friends. I say maybe but I will need time. This whole time I have been polite. She says that if I agree with the things that Danny is saying then clearly I am not the friend that she wants in her life. Are you kidding? No more biting my tongue - I tell her where she can go.&lt;br /&gt;- We now have a bridal party of BM and Rob, MOH, Jaclyn and little sister. I'm still ok. I do have to make new arrangements. I call the florist to make arrangemts, we now have less bouquets and boutonierres than originally anticipated. I call our wedding officiant and let her know that we have 3 girls, 2 guys and a flower girl. I have yet to mention the flower girl but she is also my little sister and at age 5 I believe she should be diagnosed with ADHD. I bought her dress for her because my stepmom bought some ugly gold and brown dress and tried to pass that off as a flower girl dress. These aren't my colours, what the hell was she thinking? Flower girl is now dressed in white (like the bride) and the only job is for stepmom to buy the flower girl her shoes. I say they need to be white to match the dress and I don't care for pantyhose, just get those cute little socks with the ruffles on top. Let's stop here and talk about my stepmom. When she was first asked what dress she would wear to the wedding, her response was "I haven't bought it yet, but it will be either white or yellow." I believe this was an attempt at a joke, she knows that my dress is white and my bridemaids' dresses are yellow. This was a while back at a baby shower for my sister-in-law. My whole family was there. My mom was asked the same question but unlike my stepmom, my mother already has her dress. She told them it was an elegant dark red dress. At the J&amp;amp;J (again, my whole family was present) my stepmom announces that she has bought her dress. She tells me it's a very simple dress and it's dark red. My mom walks by and all of a sudden the colour changes to burgundy, but it's still very "simple." Stepmom sits down with some family and friends and goes into detail about her dress. It's a purple, two-piece, corset top, pick-up bottom, and very cinderella-like. Well my mom and I decide this isn't right. We are led to believe that it's very similar in style to the bridal gown and similar in colour to the mother-of-the-bride gown.&lt;br /&gt;- Mom and I set out on a mission. Mom needs a new dress as she doesn't want to take any chances of wearing the same colour as the step-mother. We hit several stores before remembering a part of the step-mother's story. She said she got it at the same place that my sister took her dress for alterations. Well two can play this game. Mom and I go to that store. I sneak in the back but have no luck finding any dresses. My fear of getting caught leads me back to the front to my mom. Mom is actually trying on dresses. They are ugly dresses, but she pretends to like them so it's not obvious what we are really up to. I continue to peruse the store when we come across a rack of dresses wrapped in clear plastic. Mom and I deduce these are bought dresses (we're clever). We start looking at all the purchase tags and come across my stepmom's. It's a one-piece, plain, burgundy dress. Mom and I decide it looks nothing like either of our dresses and agree to leave the store. Mission complete. There is no need for either my mom or myself to buy a new dress.&lt;br /&gt;- My sister calls. She says that her mom (my stepmom) has bought shoes for her and the flowergirl. I ask why she bought shoes for her, I already bought nice strappy black ones. My sister explains that her mom wanted her and the flowergirl to have matching shoes. And get this, they are pink! What is she up to now? She had one job: buy the flower girl white shoes. Now I have to go out and buy shoes for her, because she managed to screw that up too. I explain to my sister that those shoes will have to be returned, the flower girl is to wear white and my sister already has shoes for her yellow dress so there will be no need to wear the ugly pink shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe this is where we are today. My flowergirl has no shoes, my stepmom is colour blind, my dad is cheap, and I now have a very short list of true friends. I have received many RSVPs back with regrets. I know this happens as not everyone can make it. But seeing as I sent out save-the-date cards before Christmas, everyone was aware of the date and knew to book this time on their schedule. I have had many friends ask me for invites to the wedding, and they too have regretfully RSVP'd. To the remainder of my bridal party, thank you for your patience and committment. Without you, this would be a complete horror story. Specifically to the MOH and BM - good luck planning your wedding! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had it my way, Danny and I would elope. I believe our BM and MOH are considering eloping now too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-8503032861783490311?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8503032861783490311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=8503032861783490311' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8503032861783490311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/8503032861783490311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/05/bridezilla.html' title='Bridezilla'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-6962919680912162560</id><published>2008-05-01T16:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T17:24:55.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Speak</title><content type='html'>My advice to you... Keep your mouth shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When somebody asks you how your day is, say "good" - don't say "great" as that will necessitate further comments. Do NOT under any circumstances, tell them how you really feel. Likely they don't care anyways, but once you start venting about something that's on your chest, you are immediately thought of as a negative person. And if the wrong person finds out you're negative, you get a one on one with HR or recruited by a happy cult member.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had both happen in one day - it's not good. The cult - easy - just throw some scientific &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mumbo&lt;/span&gt; jumbo at them. I'm a scientist, this could go on a long time, and I'll always win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meeting with the boss was not a big deal, he was misinformed by some evil bitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;micromanager&lt;/span&gt; at work. Evil Bitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Micromanager&lt;/span&gt; is the manager of another department - doesn't concern me at all. She overhears me speaking to my colleague about an email that we received. My colleague asked my opinion and all I said was "I'm not going to respond to the email as I believe I'll get very foul." Somehow this got translated back to MY boss as "Jacki is a very negative person who is complaining about every little thing and should be talked to."&lt;br /&gt;That ultimately gets back to me as "if you're not happy here, maybe you should leave." My boss is a super, nice guy and totally understanding so I just explained the truth of the matter, to which he denied the evil bitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;micromanager's&lt;/span&gt; accusations. This is how he avoids confrontation, but we all know the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly... the only negativity I see is the eaves-dropping evil bitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;micromanager&lt;/span&gt; making shit up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See now I'm swearing, but really... my stats are good, I get along with every one on my team, I work overtime without compensation and without complaints and I'm the one who needs to rethink my career? Well I'll be. I tell you what, maybe when my stats fall and I start bringing the average down rather then up, maybe then you can tell me about my attitude and my career path choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To you "Evil Bitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Micromanager&lt;/span&gt;" my life, my job, my business... doesn't concern you. If you decide to step on my toes again, I will be escalating. I will be seeing your boss and speaking to her about your lousy management style. Here is a tip, if half of your team is on stress leave - IT'S YOUR FAULT! I'll be sure to bring this to the attention of your boss, and I will be discussing the negative impacts that YOU have on the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To everyone else: "I'm good, and you?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-6962919680912162560?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6962919680912162560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=6962919680912162560' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6962919680912162560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6962919680912162560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/05/dont-speak.html' title='Don&apos;t Speak'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-6884762788793399472</id><published>2008-02-15T10:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T18:24:50.577-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wise Words - Please Take the Advice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;This one goes out to the foreign cleaning lady:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching me pee is not proper etiquette. You do not need to stare at me as I wash my hands. I will not make a mess. You can clean around me and then leave. There is no need to wait. No one appreciates the staring.&lt;br /&gt;See one of my previous blogs about how the cleaning staff at work do not actually clean anything. They don't. They just stare at you as you wash your hands...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;This one goes out to the Mr. Sub guy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I order a veggie sub, this means I like veggies. It also means that I am not interested in meat. Please don't hold back on the veggies, consider the lettuce as the "meat" of any other sub. You sprinkling on a few shreds of lettuce is not going to do anyone good. When I say "more please" I would think this is self-explanitory, apparently it is not. When I say "lots of cucumbers" please put more cucumbers on then you would for someone who just says "cucumbers." You actually put three slices of cucumber on my large, foot-long sub, and when I was still waiting for more and not asking for any other topping, you realized this to be some sort of cue. The cue to put ONE more slice of cucumber! I don't understand. By the time my sub was made to YOUR standards, I am basically left with one thin layer of veggies between two thick pieces of bread. I just thought you should know that you will not lose any money in piling the veggies on thick... In fact, MR. SUB as a company will not lose any money. Lettuce is cheap... and so are you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;This one goes out to the creepy mailroom guy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice idea to send out candy-grams to all the ladies on the 12th floor. But ranking all the ladies is disgusting. I don't want 5 candy-grams from you even if it does mean that you like me the best. I'm sure that none of the other ladies were impressed with their candy-gram multiples either. In fact, we're all still wondering how the minimum wage mailroom guy with a wife and two kids could afford to buy that many. One may have been a nice idea but 5 is just excessive, and no, it doesn't mean that you're getting in my pants now.&lt;br /&gt;It is not my fault that the mailroom is situated just before the women's washroom. If I happen to pass you on my way to the washroom I am in no ways obligated to stop and talk. Aside from the pile of work I just left at my desk, I am clearly in a rush to the bathroom and hardly have time for small talk.&lt;br /&gt;This does not mean you get to give the puppy dog face and whine to me the next time you see me "oh I saw you walk by and you didn't even say hi, do you not like me anymore?" News Flash: I NEVER LIKED YOU. You are known to all as the creepy mailroom guy. The people who are nice enough to talk to you also find you creepy but they think it's pathetic that you have no friends so they figure there is no harm in being nice. I made that mistake once and now look at the position I'm in...&lt;br /&gt;If my fiance wants to send me flowers at work, this does not mean you can personally deliver them to me while announcing to everyone who passes that "these are for your lady" ... ahem ... GROSS!!! When flower delieveries go to the reception office, or anyone else in the mailroom, a nice email is sent to the recipient saying "you have a package, please come pick it up." Why the hell do you find it necessary to hand deliever?&lt;br /&gt;You stop by my desk so often that my boss is concerned. If I'm on the phone, I obviously cannot talk to you so DO NOT stop and stare at me and wait until I get off the phone. Not only is it creepy, it's also rude and disrespectful. I had to tell a client I would call them back, because after ten minutes of you staring at me, you still did NOT take the hint. How on earth do you stare at someone for ten minutes talking to someone on the phone and not think to yourself, maybe I should leave and come back later?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is another example of a Thursday conversation that should NOT have happened.&lt;br /&gt;Creepy mailroom guy (CMG) comes by my desk and says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: Hey there, &lt;em&gt;(awkward pause)&lt;/em&gt; you looked stressed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm not stressed I'm just super busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: They give you too much work to do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes we are backlogged, everyone is busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: Just remember, it's almost Friday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (not thinking) Actually, it is my Friday today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: oh well, I just came to say hi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: Sooooo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (still looking at my computer, I just decide to ignore him)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: how are the wedding plans going?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: I still have to talk to my friend about coming to your Jack &amp;amp; Jill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: I think he will come, I just want to confirm and then I'll get the money for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: It's a good thing you asked me to print those tickets for you, otherwise I never would have known about this pre-wedding party/fundraiser thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: Soooo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: Did you get the candy-grams I sent you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: yes, isn't 5 a little excessive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: I was bored, and you work hard. It's a little something to help you get through your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: thank you, my friends will enjoy them too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: Ok well, I guess I'll let you get back to work... and I'll go back to my lonely desk in the mailroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was more to that conversation but I must have blocked it out of my memory. I do remember that he was at my desk for over five minutes. This was actually a short conversation as it usually takes him longer before he takes the hint. Really though, if he just wanted to say hi it shouldn't have taken him more than 10 seconds. I didn't really even have time to look away from my computer as I was so busy. He's like a child, walking away all mopey that I didn't make time for him.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any obligations to him. If I need something mass printed or mailed out I have to go to him. This doesn't mean he's my new best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You asked me why "Sarah" doesn't come by the mailroom anymore. I nicely explained that they have moved her desk to the opposite side of the floor and she doesn't need to walk by you anymore. I was a little shocked to hear you say "Oh I know, she now sits at 1231A." How do you know this? How do you remember everyone's seat number? I don't even know MY desk number! I actually made the mistake of asking how he knew this information and THIS was his response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CMG: Oh, I know when everyone moves seats as the requests come through the mailroom. I also know where everyone lives and how much money they make as I have to print off the payroll and mail it out. I know when someone gets fired, or they quit, and I know the difference between the two. I know everything about this place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EFFIN CREEPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This needs to stop. You make everyone uncomfortable and you really could be fired for doing/saying the things you do. Telling me that I look hot when I wear my hair down, followed by the "paw" motion and the sound a cat makes... totally made me vomit. Putting some random girl's phone number in your cell phone that you happened to find on a payroll stub is actually breaking so many confidentiality laws is remarkable you haven't been arrested yet. Especially when your WIFE finds this number and then calls the woman to yell at her for giving her husband their phone number. What the duece?! You have a jealous wife at home and you are here asking everyone out on dates and sending them love notes and what not... STOP IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the women were trying to find out what it is about you that makes you so creepy. Aside from all the things mentioned above, you are also one coke-bottle pair of glasses away from being a pedophile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is just my opinion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-6884762788793399472?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6884762788793399472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=6884762788793399472' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6884762788793399472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/6884762788793399472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2008/02/wise-words-please-take-advice.html' title='Wise Words - Please Take the Advice'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-7151481251268648314</id><published>2007-12-31T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T14:12:49.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where have all the nice people gone?</title><content type='html'>I have come across so many not-so-nice borderline evil people in the last three weeks alone that I'm just not sure there are any nice people left in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;GTA&lt;/span&gt;. Here are just some of the things that have happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I saw an elderly woman with a cane accidentally hit a huge box out of another woman's hands. It was clearly an accident however, the elderly woman did NOT apologize, did not help pickup the parcel and did not even seem to care that she had done it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A line up in a grocery store led to another register being opened. The cashier says "can I help the next person in line please." Another elderly woman at the back of the queue barges forward. It was my fiance that said "excuse me, but we were here first and you were not NEXT in line." After some arguing my fiance proves his point and the next woman in line (who was before my fiance) was served.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Yet another elderly woman, this one looked more like a troll in leopard skin clothing, comes barging down the wrong way with her shopping cart hitting everyone in her path. My fiance is hit and shakes his head "what is it with the elderly? Once they've hit a certain age they forget their manners."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The pizza delivery guy. Now he's not elderly, but he certainly is old enough to know his manners, I could care less what country he's from, these are standard P's and Q's. He comes to our door with 3 minutes to spare before our food is free. He hands my fiance the pizza and the bill. My fiance says "we ordered pop as well, it's on the receipt but I don't see it here." Now I have already taken the pizza into the kitchen so the pizza delivery guy does not believe that we haven't received our pop. He accuses my fiance of lying when I say "actually we only have pizza here, no pop." Pizza guy then says "oh it must be in my car" and turns around to go get it. In the mean time I sign the bill including tip. I start to rip the receipt in half, one copy for him, one copy for myself. However, the rip is not going quite right and it's tearing into his copy. He knocks on the door and without an apology he hands me my drinks.... As it turns out my fiance wasn't lying but hey now, no need to acknowledge that. So I hand him the bill that I've signed explaining that I am unable to rip it in half and if he could... Before I finish my sentence he says very rudely "where is my pen?" So I pass him his pen and continue with my sentence about how I would like my half of the receipt. Again I don't get to finish my sentence because he's turned around and walked away. Completely gone. "I'm still talking here... that's OK, I didn't want my receipt anyways, but next time, should we order from you again I will not be tipping you anything... and I might even keep your damn pen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;TTC&lt;/span&gt; subway ticket ripper. It's Christmas Eve, and unfortunately I'm on my way to work. I just got off the streetcar which I was riding for about 40 minutes. I decide to get off at the subway station and take the train only one stop as it's freezing cold outside and I'm already not feeling well. By taking the subway I can stay indoors all the way to work. So I go to show my transfer to the subway ticket guy and I notice it's not the right transfer. This transfer is from the day before. I apologize and keep looking through all of my pockets and purse. I'm pulling out all sorts of transfers but not the one I need. It must have fallen out of my pocket on the streetcar. It's obvious I ride the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;TTC&lt;/span&gt; all the time and am a paying customer. I just cannot find the transfer from today. I say to the guy "it must have fallen out of my pocket, but I've just gotten off the 501 and am only going one stop on the subway, do you think you can let me go?" He says "only if you pay a fare." I said "I paid my fare to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;TTC&lt;/span&gt; streetcar driver, I've lost my transfer, but as you can see from all of these other transfers, I am not one to scam the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;TTC&lt;/span&gt;." He starts to get belligerent with me and says "Look either show me the transfer from this morning or pay another fare!" I'm fully shocked, I would like to reiterate my point here so when I stop coughing I say "you expect me to pay again even though I'm only going one stop?" He just taps the glass... Now I'm super pissed, who does that? On Christmas eve of all days! I couldn't control my temper "&lt;a href="mailto:F@$K"&gt;F@$K YOU&lt;/a&gt;!!!" I say, as I walk outside in the cold, to that next stop. It's not very far, but on principle I'm pissed, I'm cold, and now I'm crying too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just one of MANY evil &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;TTC&lt;/span&gt; staff stories, I seriously think "being an asshole" is a requirement for employment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The Home Depot Cashier. This is by far the worst story and I'm just not sure I'll be able to do it justice. My fiance, at this point I should tell you his name, Danny and I are doing some Christmas shopping. We know what we have to get, we've been given specific instructions. We printed the details from The Home Depot website. We need a tool box and a tool organizer. We find them with ease and proceed to the checkout. For some strange reason there is only one person working the cash but hey, Danny and I are very patient and understanding. There is only one woman in front of us who is paying in what appears to be pennies. The Home Depot cashier, who will now be known only as Evil Bitch, says to us "how are you paying?" even though the woman in front of us is still counting her pennies. We say "credit card." Evil Bitch says "good, because I don't have any change and I'm closing as soon as the next cashier comes" while looking at her watch. The woman in front of us who was obviously forced to pay with all her pennies, finally leaves and we are next. Evil Bitch tries to scan the tool organizer but finds there is no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;bar code&lt;/span&gt; or price tag. She looks at us like this is our fault and proceeds to help the next person in line explaining the "exact cash or plastic only" rule. She also calls the department for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bar code&lt;/span&gt; of some kind. Danny explains that we have a print out from their website that gives an in-store &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;SKU&lt;/span&gt; number. Evil Bitch continues to push us aside and help the next person in line, rushing everyone out the door. She says to us "that won't help, I need a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;SKU&lt;/span&gt;" and dials the number for the department again. Danny tries again to say that we have the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;SKU&lt;/span&gt; but she just ignores us and moves to the third customer behind us now. Danny waits for the right moment and says "according to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;flyer&lt;/span&gt; here we have the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;SKU&lt;/span&gt;." Evil Bitch yells (and I'm not exaggerating) "LOOK I JUST NEED TO CONFIRM WITH THE DEPARTMENT SO RELAX!"  Danny says "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; I was just trying to help, the least you could do is be polite."&lt;br /&gt;Well you can only imagine what Evil Bitch has to say about this. She goes off on one of her rants saying that we are the ones being pushy as she's tried to explain to us several times about how it works here at the Home Depot.&lt;br /&gt;Danny says "you know what, it's just not worth it. You can have this, we'll go elsewhere." This whole time I've been good and quiet, Danny can handle his own. We walk out of the store. Let me say this again... We are no longer in the store. Evil Bitch is still yelling! Can you believe that? We've already left, we no longer care to purchase anything and she is still going off on one of her rants saying something about how she was just trying to help us. This is when I say "No you weren't trying to help, you were trying to finish your shift." Believe me, I held back, I did want to tell her just where to go. But Danny and I just continued walking away, laughing at the current situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to top things off, Danny and I have decided we really do need those items, it's too close to Christmas and we have to get these things. So we went back making sure that Evil Bitch was not there. There was a new cashier and our items were still sitting on the counter. There was absolutely no line up. We tell the new lady that we'd like to purchase the two items behind the counter and she gladly gets them for us. She starts to ring them in when low and behold, there is still no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;bar code&lt;/span&gt;. Danny takes out his paper and says "I printed these off your website, I believe it has a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;SKU&lt;/span&gt;." New Lady looks at the paper and says "yes you are right." She punches the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;SKU&lt;/span&gt; in and hey now, surprise surprise, it works! Too bad Evil Bitch didn't giver-a-go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again I ask, where have all the nice people gone? If you're out there, please give me a ring... I'm starting to lose my faith.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-7151481251268648314?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7151481251268648314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=7151481251268648314' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7151481251268648314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7151481251268648314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/12/where-have-all-nice-people-gone.html' title='Where have all the nice people gone?'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-5008782902259454152</id><published>2007-12-13T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T11:17:20.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too long!</title><content type='html'>I haven't written a blog in what seems like ages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just been so busy. Work is overkill, they assign me so much more work per day and I'm not even sure why, so no time for blogging anymore... Maybe that's why? Maybe they are on to my time management skills where I allot so much time to Blogging and things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is the update...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the last week of November off and had planned on catching up on all school work and making my wedding invitations. Sadly, I came down with and awful cold and spent the majority of the week locked in the bedroom with a box of tissue.&lt;br /&gt;I did get ahead on schoolwork because I was able to read, but I only did half of the wedding invites so that's a drag. I still have a couple of months to get those all finished though, so no pressure yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had a birthday recently, which most people know :) That was awesome, I went out with work buddies and then on my actual birthday, my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fiancé&lt;/span&gt; took me out to dinner where he surprised me with my parents and a couple of friends ... very nice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we're almost all ready for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt;, just a few last minute things to get and we're good to go! Now we can sit down with a bowl of popcorn, a glass of eggnog, and watch those silly but classic holiday movies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-5008782902259454152?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/5008782902259454152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=5008782902259454152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5008782902259454152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5008782902259454152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/12/too-long.html' title='Too long!'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-1625727766837614796</id><published>2007-11-15T13:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T13:14:45.071-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Orenthal Munchausen?</title><content type='html'>My entire life I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; always been obsessed with learning. I loved going to school and getting good grades, even through high school. I did have some difficulties in university but I almost never missed a class and I attempted to take good notes and study all the time. Even though I’m a university graduate, I still find myself doing everything I can to learn a little bit more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; enrolled in a photography course so that I can learn the history of photography, the basics of all types of cameras and developing methods, and perhaps in the process I’ll also learn how to take a good picture… This remains to be seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am not studying for my photography class, I am reading anything interesting or entertaining. Currently I’m reading an encyclopedia on women killers, a book about stupid celebrities, and a text book on forensic science. What I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; learned so far, is that O.J. (as in O.J. Simpson) stands for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Orenthal&lt;/span&gt; James, who knew? Celebrities are pretty ignorant, but who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t know that already? And what I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; learned from the killer encyclopedia book is that there is a disorder called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Munchausen&lt;/span&gt; syndrome, that can let you get away with just about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are different kinds of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Munchausen&lt;/span&gt; syndrome, so here is where I go into detail. The first “is a psychiatric disorder in which those affected feign disease, illness, or psychological trauma in order to draw attention or sympathy to themselves.” It is a factitious disorder. This means that a patient diagnosed with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Munchausen&lt;/span&gt; will simulate illnesses just to get attention. They go as far as self-induced vomiting, inflicting pain, or taking random pills to see what symptoms they cause. A lot of the times a person with this disorder are “highly knowledgeable about the practice of medicine” and go to extremes to get medical attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is different from the well known hypochondriac because someone with this disorder actually BELIEVES they are suffering from whatever illness. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Munchausen&lt;/span&gt; Syndrome patients are aware that they are faking it and exaggerate everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well if you’re not into masochism, there is also something called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Munchausen&lt;/span&gt; Syndrome by Proxy. This is when the diagnosed person will cause pain and illness (and sometimes death) to another person. This generally happens when the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Munchausen&lt;/span&gt; person is a caregiver or nurse. They have all the medical knowledge AND they are responsible for somebody’s life. It won’t take long for that life to end. Check out “Meadows’ Law” … I won’t go into details because I don’t want you to get the wrong ideas… But although not everyone agrees with this ‘law’, it’s helped enough murderesses get away with anything…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am believing that in this day and age, and our technology, we can pretty much trace the origins of the common cold. If I sneeze even once, I’ll know who to blame! Unless of course you have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Munchausen&lt;/span&gt; Syndrome by Proxy, then you were only faking that sneeze and I won’t be able to blame you at all. All the trials and cases I’m referring to in this article all took place in the ‘90s. Maybe we really haven’t advanced as far as I thought. Just look at ‘innocent’ &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Orenthal&lt;/span&gt;. I’d be interested in reading his never-published novel “I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t kill my wife, but if I did, this is how I would have done it”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh ya, that guy is innocent for sure. Innocent-by-Proxy…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Quotes taken from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munchausen_syndrome"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munchausen_syndrome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and that is the best foot note you are getting from me)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-1625727766837614796?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1625727766837614796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=1625727766837614796' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1625727766837614796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/1625727766837614796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/11/orenthal-munchausen.html' title='Orenthal Munchausen?'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-7886785139677310761</id><published>2007-11-14T15:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T15:15:36.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More intelligent?</title><content type='html'>So I was thinking that my blogs are quite silly. They are just whatever I happen to be thinking about at that specific moment... Or maybe, they are representing me and my venting at outrageous situations... Believe me, there will be more posts like that in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I wanted to write something of substance... a little research article if you will. Tell me what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In trying to do a little background check on some Greek mythological Gods and heroes, I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; discovered some interesting “facts.” Zeus, the king of Olympian Gods, was the youngest of six children to his mother, Rhea and father, Cronus (of the Titan Gods). Cronus had children with other wives but my investigations only concern those of Rhea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back even further, Cronus was the youngest son of Uranus (father) and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Gaia&lt;/span&gt; (mother). This is where I find the story quite fascinating. Uranus (the primeval God of the sky) and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Gaia&lt;/span&gt; (the Goddess of Earth) had 12 sons and 6 daughters. It is said that Uranus &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t like the way they looked so he hid them in the bowels of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Gaia&lt;/span&gt;. Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Gaia&lt;/span&gt; found this quite painful and when she could take no more, she asked her Titan sons to help. Sure enough, on the night of the next love-making session between Sky and Earth, four Titans pinned down the four corners of their father Uranus, and the youngest Titan Cronus ambushed from the centre of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Gaia&lt;/span&gt;, cutting off his father’s manhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cronus, being free of his mother’s belly, is now able to move on and marry Rhea. To avoid the same fortune of his father, Cronus eats all of his children as they are born. By the birth of the sixth child, Zeus, Rhea can no longer bare the pain. She saves Zeus by hiding him on an island and tricking Cronus into eating a stone dressed as Zeus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years later, Zeus takes revenge on his father, forces him to disgorge the other five of his offspring (now known as the Olympians) and a war breaks out between the Titans and the Olympians. Ten years later, the war ends and the Olympians win and the Titans are banished. Zeus is now the king of the Olympians and he divides the government of the world between him and his brothers Poseidon and Hades. Zeus rules the heavens and the upper regions, Poseidon governs the sea, and Hades is the God of the underworld (the land of the dead).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My original intentions were to discuss the similarities and differences between Cronus and Uranus; however I don’t believe this would be much of a challenge. Anyone can see that history repeats itself twice over. The only difference is Uranus disposes of his offspring by burying them inside his wife; Cronus ensures his own safety (so he thinks) by swallowing his offspring himself and not relying on the body of his wife for burial grounds. What I find more interesting than Uranus and Cronus is the relationship between Hades and his nephew Hermes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you would think that Hades is an intriguing character because he is the Lord of the Underworld (also known as Hades, thus Hades is the name of a place and a God) after all, however it’s not the case. He’s very drab and gloomy and is described as scruffy with a dark beard and hair that falls in his face. He’s generally hated and feared by mortals, although he is not considered an evil God. Hades is depicted as a grim but passive, impartial figure. His main job is to uphold relative balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hades was known to carry a staff and/or a two-pronged fork. These are the things he used to force the dead into his underworld territory. He also owned an invisibility helmet (much like Harry Potter’s cloak). Unfortunately there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;aren&lt;/span&gt;’t many stories of him actually using this power. That’s a shame. He probably just used it to recapture lost souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you get into the underworld there is no way out (only a few people have done it). The dead are pretty boring, they don’t talk aside from the occasional whisper, and they have no emotions. On occasion, Hades will allow one of the dead to drink from the pool of Lethe which erases their memory. This is preferred because there is absolutely no excitement down in Hades’ world and after the soul drinks from the lake they can travel back up to land with no recollection of the past. This is often perceived as reincarnation, and is the most enthralling thing that happens in the lower world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hades had complete authority over the dead and anything else (Gods or living creatures) that roamed in the underworld. He was married to Persephone, whom he also had control over but only for a portion of the year. Hades was known to get quite enraged when anyone tried to leave (or if someone tried to convince the souls to leave) his realm. Apparently he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t hold back any anger for those that tried to cheat or escape death. He had a few assistants to help him with underworld management, namely his nephew Hermes (the son of Zeus and a mountain nymph).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems Hermes was the God of many things, but was mostly known for travel and trade. He guided the dead souls to Hades and was branded as the messenger of Gods. Unlike Hades, Hermes is a happy, helpful character. Hermes protected travellers and punished those who refused to assist those that had lost their way. He’s helped other Gods in their battles and quests and has loaned out his own personal, magical items such as his flying shoes and the invisibility helmet that was given to him as a gift from Hades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all the Gods, the godly powers, and magical tools, you would think that this would be more interesting. It’s really not. And I’m very bored now. I might revisit this later. I might not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe now you'll prefer me venting over the mundane?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-7886785139677310761?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7886785139677310761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=7886785139677310761' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7886785139677310761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7886785139677310761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/11/more-intelligent.html' title='More intelligent?'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-5890050716068116597</id><published>2007-11-01T13:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T13:44:36.642-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning people</title><content type='html'>I think I want a new job.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be on the cleaning staff here at my company. They get paid to sit around all day and chit chat in the lunchroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There aren't very many chairs to begin with as people only go to the lunchroom when they have brought their lunch to work. Most people will get together with their friends at lunch and go out some where as there are many options downtown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every single time I go to the lunchroom these foreign cleaning people are all sitting around speaking whatever language. They are not eating any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lunches&lt;/span&gt;, they are just taking up space. And it doesn't matter what time of day you go to the lunch room, there they are... just hanging out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't complain at all if the building was clean, but really it's disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;They drop the rolls of toilet paper into the toilet, and then take the soaking wet roll and put it on the locked toilet paper holder.&lt;br /&gt;We usually have two choices, either we can use the stall that has the wet roll, or the stall that has no rolls of paper... Either way, we're not getting dry unless we bring our own tissue.&lt;br /&gt;Even if this wasn't completely disgusting and unsanitary, how does one dry themselves with something that is wet??? Useless I tell you, completely useless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now of course seeing as there is a lunchroom full of people, the rest of us are forced to eat lunch at our desks. This is also not very sanitary and if we want to have our desks cleaned we have to do that ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have my own disinfectant that I use to spray my desk before AND after I eat.&lt;br /&gt;I clean up completely after myself everywhere I go. I pick up the trash if there is any, I wipe up the sinks when I'm done using them, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if I'm doing all of this, what EXACTLY are the cleaning people getting paid to do???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;They&lt;/span&gt; make me sick. Tomorrow I'm going to stand beside them, lean over them, and slurp up my soup... I'll be sure to spill lots and see if anyone has anything to say about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you were doing your job properly, you would not be sitting here getting dirty while I eat... and I would have a place to sit"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-5890050716068116597?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/5890050716068116597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=5890050716068116597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5890050716068116597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5890050716068116597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/11/cleaning-people.html' title='Cleaning people'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-2538430341805341770</id><published>2007-10-29T09:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T18:25:21.931-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BIG NEWS</title><content type='html'>So I had an incredibly busy weekend. We went to visit some friends out of town right after work on Friday. It turned into Game-Night at another friends and we didn't get back to the place we were staying until about 430 in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is such a late night for us, I'm usually in bed before 11p (most times 10p) on weeknights and I couldn't believe we stayed up so late. Once we got back to our friends place the guys stayed up until 730am before crashing. We all had to be up at 11am so you can imagine how difficult it was to get up after the lack of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did some fun house hunting stuff went for a late lunch and back to the house to crash again.&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, my fiancé and I bailed on another night of partying and thought we'd return home to our cats and a night of scary movies on tv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was a day of dress shopping for my bridal party... Fun Stuff and a crazy old lady that I could write tons about but would ultimately just frustrate me to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the BIG NEWS,&lt;br /&gt;Sunday at 4:55am, I became an aunt to a beautiful baby girl.&lt;br /&gt;My brother and his wife named their newborn Breanna Ilene Marie, and she weighs an even 7lbs.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't had the opportunity to meet the baby just yet, but I've seen the pictures. She's adorable (even though she's a spit image of my brother).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait for more updates!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-2538430341805341770?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2538430341805341770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=2538430341805341770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2538430341805341770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/2538430341805341770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/10/big-news.html' title='BIG NEWS'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-354548512721547346</id><published>2007-10-24T14:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T14:45:03.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Sleep - leads to this</title><content type='html'>You know when you sneeze, you can do it one of two ways:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Either out your mouth (usually when you say ATCHOOOO and everything sprays everywhere)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Out your nose, hoping you can get that kleenex there before the boogies go all over the place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I usually go for option number one, the bigger the spray, the better the sneeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this time one snuck up on me when I had food in my mouth, so I held it in and kept my mouth shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I forgot to let it come out the nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I really think I burst my eyeball as it tried to get out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid sneeze&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-354548512721547346?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/354548512721547346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=354548512721547346' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/354548512721547346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/354548512721547346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/10/no-sleep-leads-to-this.html' title='No Sleep - leads to this'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-5425959468108056302</id><published>2007-10-23T13:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T14:18:38.312-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Major League Soccer - MLS blows!</title><content type='html'>How frustrating is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered a 'football' jersey from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;MLSGear&lt;/span&gt;.com for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fiance&lt;/span&gt; for his birthday.&lt;br /&gt;I ordered it about 5 or 6 weeks before his birthday and the delivery time was 2 to 4 weeks so no matter what, I'm thinking I'll get his birthday gift on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well after the four week mark hit and still no jersey, I decided to check the tracking status of the order. It says "submitted and processing" ... How long does it take to put a shirt in a box and ship it out? Well patiently, I give it some time. On the day of his birthday, there was still no gift to give him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is what I write to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MLS&lt;/span&gt; customer service box:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Hi there, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I placed my order (N32298&amp;amp;*^%) on Sept 14t&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;h&lt;/span&gt;. It has a 2-4 week delivery time yet it still has not arrived.&lt;br /&gt;When I checked the status of the order it says "submitted and processing" … Please enlighten me, how long does it take to 'submit and process' one single jersey? I wasn't aware it was so complex to put a shirt in a box and ship it out.&lt;br /&gt;This was a gift for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;fiance&lt;/span&gt; and his birthday is today… Obviously, it will not be here in time so I'd like to know what you intend to do to compensate.&lt;br /&gt;If the item I requested is out of stock, I should have been informed. I expect a response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Jac&lt;/span&gt; Star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Well naturally I did not hear back from them for a few days, but what upset me the most was that they hardly addressed the situation at hand. Here was their response:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jac&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;There was a problem processing your order causing the system to reject it. You can either replace the order online or you can contact us at 1-877-7467-657 so we can push your current order through, call (925) 609-0297 if outside the US.&lt;br /&gt;Regards,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;AH-Customer Support&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;They cannot be serious! So no where on the tracking status does it say "rejected" it says "submitted and processing" I checked again. I don't live in the US so I am now expected to call long distance if I want this fixed? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I respond to the email:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I am expected to pay Long Distance as well?&lt;br /&gt;You have got to be kidding me.&lt;br /&gt;Where was this email 5 weeks ago when I placed the order?&lt;br /&gt;What am I going to be compensated with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I doubt this email will get anywhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hold back the rage and pick up the phone.&lt;br /&gt;Basically this is what the guy says to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;"uh... ya... can you hold on? uh... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;... do you have the order number?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I give it to him again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;"uh ... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;... hold on again... uh... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;... can you confirm your shipping address?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You would think they had this on file, but whatever, I confirm it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;"uh... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ummm&lt;/span&gt;... can I have your credit card information again?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this is where I get upset. I do NOT give my credit card information again. I asked him if he should have this on file considering they already took the payment... I also asked him to tell me when I'd get my order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I assumed he'd say 2-4 weeks again but maybe add a "I will try to escalate, given your situation" ... You know, those calming words that every customer should hear.&lt;br /&gt;Shocking, he says &lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;"Mam, I don't know. I haven't checked your order yet and I can't confirm any dates"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm livid at this point and I just tell him to &lt;em&gt;"cancel the order, this service is incredibly ridiculous, I'll take my business elsewhere."&lt;/em&gt; I then hang up the phone.... What a waste of a long distance phone call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decide to try an email again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The customer service is absolutely terrible.&lt;br /&gt;After calling long distance, I am put on hold several times and asked all of the information that should already be registered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not guaranteed any dates of when I will receive my order and I am asked to pay for it a SECOND time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you kidding me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop jerking me around and send me my order! Escalate this, or I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not calling anyone and dealing with any more ignorance, this is incredibly ridiculous. Someone knowledgeable should be contacting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sending me my money back, or sending me the product in which I paid for will simply not suffice at this point, however one or the other will have to be on my doorstep within 5 business days or you can expect a lawsuit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot imagine spending hundreds of dollars on things like season tickets, if you can't even manage a single shirt. No wonder &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;MLS&lt;/span&gt; is suffering, the organization is appalling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Jac&lt;/span&gt; Star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Surprisingly (*&lt;em&gt;rolls eyes*&lt;/em&gt;), there hasn't been a package delivered, a refund, or even a response. But it hasn't been 5 business days just yet, they have until the end of the week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Just for fun, I checked &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;MLS&lt;/span&gt; gear site to see the status of my order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"Submitted and Processing"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-5425959468108056302?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/5425959468108056302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=5425959468108056302' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5425959468108056302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/5425959468108056302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/10/major-league-soccer-mls-blows.html' title='Major League Soccer - MLS blows!'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-3738225100539707605</id><published>2007-10-23T13:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T13:31:28.587-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The day so far</title><content type='html'>Whoever said it was a good idea to get married and buy a house all at the same time... Probably didn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Planning a wedding and getting paperwork sorted for financing a house is ridiculously stressful.&lt;br /&gt;The wedding stuff would be a lot more fun if it didn't require thousands of dollars and I guess &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; goes for the house too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'd like to think, within a year, we'll have it all! The perfect wedding, the beautiful home, and who knows, per&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haps&lt;/span&gt; a baby on the way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check with me in a year, I'll probably be too busy to write the blog any more but we shall see!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-3738225100539707605?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3738225100539707605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=3738225100539707605' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/3738225100539707605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/3738225100539707605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-so-far.html' title='The day so far'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356210105506327247.post-7058691859724225034</id><published>2007-10-22T11:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T11:35:27.749-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where to begin?</title><content type='html'>I believe that I created a blog a long time ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I posted all of my deepest, darkest secrets... my crushes on boys and all things complex...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped posting because I felt like no one was reading, and because the odd person that might read it would know who I was and who I was talking about. Well that's just scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm a few years older, and light years more mature. I have a brand new life; a life that includes a fiance, two cats, a beautiful apartment, and a plan for the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have less to say given that my life is relatively easy now.&lt;br /&gt;I could complain about money problems and life's daily stresses but who doesn't have those? That's not new at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll probably post comments on all the fun wedding planning and details, my search for the perfect house and ways in which to save for it... and when all else fails, the ridiculous stories of my cats... They are quite entertaining...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment... I've got nothing&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4356210105506327247-7058691859724225034?l=jacsdiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7058691859724225034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4356210105506327247&amp;postID=7058691859724225034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7058691859724225034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4356210105506327247/posts/default/7058691859724225034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/10/where-to-begin.html' title='Where to begin?'/><author><name>Jac Star</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08430190912250205773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_EABxUL_-OCI/SH4Z3J-MpZI/AAAAAAAAAAY/oJmT-83jhWo/S220/Jac2.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
