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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller</id>
  <title>Still inappropriate after all these years....</title>
  <subtitle>Fishkiller</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Fishkiller</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2008-05-13T16:39:59Z</updated>
  <lj:journal username="fishkiller" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:193537</id>
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    <title>I'm not the marrying type I guess</title>
    <published>2008-05-13T16:39:59Z</published>
    <updated>2008-05-13T16:39:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So Friday at 4:00 - I had about lost my mind. I was officially slap happy from the week. I had been going since 5 that morning and was pretty much toast mentally. I was meeting a friend for a drink after work. He had invited a bunch of us out to get a beer to celebrate a new job he just got. I went there and slammed the first beer while waiting for him and the rest of his friends. I couldn't help it. I was in desperate need of a release from the past couple of stress-filled weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my friend shows, as does his friends. So I'm sitting there drinking more beer with about seven guys, most of which I don't know - or barely know. One is a lawyer, another an analyst, engineers, a broker, etc. The broker says to me "I think we met awhile ago at a party." I said yeah, he did look familiar so it's probably right. He was screaming hot by the way. Gorgeous, charming, salt and pepper hair, tan, white teeth.... and very married. But he was fun to talk to, really nice to look at, and kept calling me the "hot chick" all night. I was sold. Done. Had a new best friend. (kidding!) Well my friend had to leave, but the broker talked me into staying. I couldn't say no - he was way too charming. We talked about me being a single parent, him thinking sperm donor is an ass - he said great things and all with that charming smile. I was loving this guy! But not in that way. I knew he was married - and I would NEVER hit on a married guy. Ever. I have been cheated on - I know what that feels like - so I wouldn't want to do that to anyone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway - so the lawyer says - hey, there's a party going on at my office, let's go. I am saying "no, I don't know." and the broker is all "Yes! Go! It will be fun." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to preface this now - at this point - I am with all married men. Probably not the best decision I've made. I know better than that. But I was having fun, and they all seemed pretty innocent so I thought what the hell. I hang out with guys all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so we go to the lawyers office. It happens to be the building right across from my office - so I park in my parking garage. We go up and there are a couple of other lawyers there, their wives, the lawyer we came with, the broker, and myself. The broker invites a couple of other guys that come in - one on a motorized skateboard who's 23 and another who is this surfer pothead dude. He was trying to set me up. I go "exactly how old do you think I am?" He goes "I don't know - 26." Uh, thanks but try ten over that. Of course everyone was surprised - which is all I've been getting lately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the broker and I hang out talking and being dumb singing Dwight Yoakum songs and me making fun of his jeans. I thought it was no big deal. Friendly, buzzed innocent fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are all leaving and the lawyer says to the broker - you'll walk her to her car, right? And the broker is like, yeah! So we go down and his truck is right outside so he decides to drive me over since there's one way streets and what not. Anyway, he parks on the street right outside the parking garage. I'm parked just inside so it's no big deal. I'm sitting there with my feet on the dash, just talking to him about anything and everything. I'm a talker - it's what I do. I like people, I like finding out about people and things we have in common. I couldn't for the life of you tell you what we were talking about because what happened next kind of made me forget everything else. Ok - so I'm talking to the broker and I do have my feet crossed, up on the dash, in a dress - but nothing is showing. Absolutely nothing. It's a huge old truck and there is so much room it's like putting your feet up on a desk or coffee table. Anyway - I'm talking - blah blah blah - and all of the sudden he reaches over with is hand and tries to spread open my legs. I immediately put my legs down and go "oh look - it's time to go!" I get out of the car and he says "let me walk you to your car." Whatever. So we're standing at my car and I'm thinking "ok - that was just a stupid mistake on his part - no biggie." So I say "it was nice meeting you" and he comes in for what I think is a hug - but instead tries again to lift up my dress and tries to find the golden ticket. I pulled down my dress and go "what are you doing?" he goes "Just having a little fun" and tries it again. I go "You're married!" as I pull down my dress again. I said "why don't you go home and do this to your wife?" and he tries to lift my dress again and says "I will. Just give me a little something to take with me on the drive home". BLARGH. I'm like - Uh no I don't think so - got in my car and left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home and felt like I needed a shower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I told my friend about his friend the broker doing that and he was shocked and said "I'm sorry he turned out to be a predator! I had no idea. I thought he was happily married. People constantly disappoint you don't they?" I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started thinking about this the rest of the weekend and thought this is what men think of me. I had always heard about being "the marrying type" or "not the marrying type" and I think I'm the latter. I honestly think men look at me and think of me as this sexual thing - but nothing more. This is why I've been single for so long. I will never be thought of as the marrying type. I'm a fling at best. Is it something I do? Is it how I act? The way I dress? Part of that night was my fault. I should have never been alone with married men. I know better than that. But I was just having fun - de-stressing after a couple of really hard weeks. It probably is my fault. My mouth tends to open up and say things I shouldn't.  Act in ways not exactly lady-like. It is me. But how do I change that? Not drink anymore? Change my attire? Become quiet and reserved? This also makes me feel like I should just go ahead and have a baby. No one is ever going to think of me in any other light but a fling - so why not do what I want to do? Have the baby and make my own family without waiting for some guy to come along and be my husband. Maybe I've been wanting things that aren't right for me? And who knows? Maybe I won't even be able to get pregnant. But it's something worth trying in my own opinion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I think by my birthday this summer, I'll probably have figured things out.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:193356</id>
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    <title>Happy Mothers Day to me...</title>
    <published>2008-05-12T19:41:17Z</published>
    <updated>2008-05-12T19:41:17Z</updated>
    <content type="html">For mothers day my mom decides that it would just be easier to eat lunch at her house. Which means her cooking. Ugh. I made E go out to breakfast with me so we could have at least one edible meal that day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to my folks house and my great aunt and my crazy aunt and uncle are there. The first thing my mom says to my uncle is "are you ever going to wear your teeth?" Oh g-d. This means he has no teeth in. And guess who got stuck sitting next to him. Again. Yum. So my mom had made baked chicken. For the love - does she not know how to make anything else? No seasoning whatsoever. The mashed potatoes are almost a soup consistency and there is this plate with what looks like granola bars on it. I go "Uh, what's that?" she goes "oh - stuffing." Hmmm. Stuffing? Really? In dark rectangles? She goes "Well, it's a little overcooked." Blurg. But wait - she says - just put the gravy on it. The gelatinous clear colored gravy with giblets in it. Yum. That will help. Can someone pass the biscuits? I'm carbing it up this meal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So afterwards, I'm sitting in the living room with my uncle. He goes "J - you sure are pretty, you know that?" I go "Thanks Uncle Eldon." Then he goes "You remind me of a girl I used to date." And I go "Kind of creepy Uncle Eldon." Ew ew ew ew ew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then we're talking about my brother designing his own website. I said engineers should never design a website as they are not artistic by nature. My aunt said "Well it's probably a male/female thing as well. Females are more artistic." I go "Uh no. There are millions of awesome designers out there who are all men." And my dad goes "And they're all gay - ha ha ha ha ha." Everyone started laughing and I go "Aaaaand it's time for us to leave. Hey dad - I'm talking about computer graphic designers - the same kind of field your son is in." He goes "Oh. ha ha." I turned to my aunt and go "We know it's time to leave when I get offended. Bye everyone." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:193074</id>
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    <title>LASIK or sperm?</title>
    <published>2008-05-07T04:42:07Z</published>
    <updated>2008-05-07T04:42:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">OK so I've been thinking. I know I have said lately about fate and what happens is supposed to happen... But my b-day is coming up and I have some money saved. I was planning on getting LASIK done, but then thought what if I use that instead to have a baby? I could go to a clinic and pick out the perfect guy. I mean the last couple of guys I went out with both said the same thing when I mentioned I wanted marriage and a baby. "I can give you one of those things, but not the other. I've had a vasectomy." What do you think that means? Both guys. And people keep saying "it'll happen" but when? How long do I wait? Its been ten years. Is that not long enough? Why should I wait to meet the one - when I know I can do it myself? Go to a bank, order a good Jewish guy sperm and be done with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud. But I am thinking seriously.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:192773</id>
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    <title>My reliable Old Blue</title>
    <published>2008-05-07T00:40:13Z</published>
    <updated>2008-05-07T00:40:13Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Its official. Old blue died tonight. He's been a good companion for a long time and was always there for me in times of need. I knew he was on his last leg, but its still always a shock when it finally happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the memories Blue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit. Now I'm going to have to go shopping to find a replacement. I hate going by myself! Anyone? Road trip?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:192630</id>
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    <title>Aaaand...</title>
    <published>2008-05-05T15:57:38Z</published>
    <updated>2008-05-05T15:57:38Z</updated>
    <content type="html">...this is why I never cook. I decided after dinner that the baked part of our baked ziti wasn't baked enough - so I'd just throw it in a 400 degree oven to crisp the top off a little bit. And then I got on the phone and proceeded to talk to J for an hour. Have you ever seen ziti baked for an hour too long? It looked similar to and had the consistency of a brick wall. Sigh. There goes my leftovers and $76 in cheese. Did I happen to mention how expensive cheese is lately? Cheese is the new commodity. It's stronger than the dollar. Or course what isn't these days? I'm pretty sure beads from the village Pumjahabhoti are stronger than the dollar.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:192380</id>
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    <title>Creep</title>
    <published>2008-04-30T21:46:19Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-30T21:50:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Mother fukuck! Saw this on dooces site. This is why I should have been at coachella. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="5" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok - the video is no longer available - but it's Prince - covering Radiohead!! Bastards. Son of a whore I should have been there.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:191797</id>
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    <title>fishkiller @ 2008-04-28T17:01:00</title>
    <published>2008-04-28T22:01:33Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-28T22:01:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">When discussing with my online bookclub the Mylie Cyrus Annie Leibowitz debacle - we discussed comments people had about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister said &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked this comment:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You know, when my neice was 15, she went through a phase where she wanted to reposition herself as more of a sexpot. That's where her parents stepped in and said, um, no.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Only in my neice's case (not Jill's daughter), her parents won't say no. they'll think it's cute that both mom and daughter wear the same sexpot clothes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I replied - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for clarifying that. Believe me - my daughter at ten tries. Like her stupid school picture where she decided it would look hot to have all her hair draped over one shoulder. Only problem is - the should in question is the one not facing the camera so it looked like she was a bald ten year old girl with an animal on her shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I didn't order any photos and the next week we cut bangs and layers.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:191690</id>
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    <title>Very proud</title>
    <published>2008-04-28T18:51:59Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-28T18:51:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Here is E with her artwork. Her pieces is the green vine in the upper right hand corner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/fishkiller/pic/0000rkyr/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/fishkiller/pic/0000rkyr/s320x240" width="142" height="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's slouching and eyes are watering bc the sun is in her eyes. It took three tries before I could get one shot with here eyes open. But I'm still very proud of her having a piece at Final Friday!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:191358</id>
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    <title>sad</title>
    <published>2008-04-28T17:41:38Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-28T17:41:38Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Also some sad news from D, the guy I ran into yesterday. Found out one of the sweet boyz we used to work with, one of my favorite queens, contracted &lt;i&gt;the disease&lt;/i&gt;. D said the last time he saw him, two years ago, he was really sick and has probably passed since then. This kills me. I loved the sweet boy he was talking about. Darren was his name. He was beautiful, funny, cocky, totally hot and I loved him so much. Makes me so sad to think about that and really sad that I haven't stayed in touch with any of them. I have such beautiful memories of that time. I was dating Jeb and going to drag shows and finishing college - it was so much fun and so a lovely time in my life, I am just so sad about it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been over ten years since my friend Matt's death. I really thought I wouldn't ever know anyone else that this would happen to. Makes me feel absolutely devastated. I wish I would have stayed in touch.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:191136</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/191136.html"/>
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    <title>Looking for Mr. Real</title>
    <published>2008-04-28T17:34:03Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-28T17:34:03Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I was reading a book yesterday. I happened to pick it up from the library on a whim. It wasn't one of those intelligent and smart books, in fact just opposite. Or so it seemed. BUT - after a closer inspection, it was just what I needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The books character talked about how she was always making lists of what she expected from The One and how she had a fantastical mind that would work entire stories about someone after the first date (or sometimes after just meeting someone). How this fantasy has hindered her in her relationships because she relied on those fantasies and would have her expectations be at that level, rather than expecting normal things, real things to happen. Hello! Epiphany! That is me. I do this - or have done this for sure - and I think it's what has caused me to screw things up. My expectations were too high, my lists were too ridiculous and I have probably hurt or annoyed quite a few people by this. It's not something I've intentionally done, but at least now I see that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to look for "real" not "the one". I'm not sure there is "the one" or even if that person could ever live up to my fantastical standards, the lists in my head of what I think that I want. I'm now looking for the Real one. Whoever that is - it's going to be someone who isn't going to be perfect, who is going to annoy me sometimes (and for sure me them), but will be funny and normal and real. I'm looking for real. REAL. This has opened up my eyes to a whole new world of possibilities. I feel kind of free in throwing away the lists and fantasies. Now - as far as how long it lasts, I don't know. I am still me and have been doing this for a very long time - but I'm going to be definitely looking with new eyes. Love is ugly, it's hard work, it's messy, and it's also normal everyday stuff. But that's what I think makes people love each other. Not these huge gestures, but the small things like the way someone brushes their teeth or sings in the shower. That's the Real. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this weekend I had decided to do a boy-free weekend. I'm glad I did, as I wouldn't have read that book or had that epiphany otherwise. Anyway, yesterday I took my daughter to breakfast at a place downtown. I ran into a guy there that I used to work with at the brewery a long time ago. We talked for awhile and I gave him my card and home phone. He called that afternoon, I called him back last night, he emailed asking to go to lunch today and then followed up with a phone call. This guy is persistent. I had to let him down as I'm slammed for the next two weeks. He then emailed saying: &lt;i&gt;Well I have a little confession, I've always thought you where a beautiful strong woman and after seeing you yesterday I see you haven't changed at all.  If you are up to it I would really like to take you on a date sometime.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I like this guy, but have never thought of him in that way. I know what you're saying: you just got through saying you're going to look for REAL, look beyond your lists, open your eyes. Yes, you're right. I am. And I probably will go out with him, but I just don't feel a chemistry there. We'll see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I ran into Dave the rugby player this morning. He works downtown near my office and we both park in the same private parking garage it seems. So that was interesting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you things have been weird lately in the guy department.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:190860</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/190860.html"/>
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    <title>shiksa shoes</title>
    <published>2008-04-28T14:42:52Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-28T14:42:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Here are my new shiksa shoes! I love them. AND I got the perfect little black dress to go with them. Love love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/fishkiller/pic/0000qpw8/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/fishkiller/pic/0000qpw8/s320x240" width="180" height="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:190609</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/190609.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=190609"/>
    <title>shiksa at your service - in red shoes no less</title>
    <published>2008-04-26T15:09:49Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-26T15:09:49Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So I kind of figured out the cute Jewish guy at synagogue. Divorced, one kid (I think), and saw his ex last night. She seems kind of mean so I'd better be careful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the wine and breaking of the bread (or matza since it was still Passover), these two women came up to me and introduced themselves. I told them I just started going there. The older of the two, probably 70-80ish, asked point blank "Are you Jewish?" I said "No but I'm looking to convert." Ypu could see the pleasant look immediately fall from her face and the word shiksa practically forming on her lips. I wanted to laugh and say "honey I'm just as disappointed as you are." Old people crack me up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have a bit of a crush on our general contactor at work. He's probably 6'3" and has salt and pepper hair (I lurv that). He's like this big teddy bear. I had noticed him last weekend when I was helping with the move. Everybody seemed to know him and like him so that immediately intriuged me. Then Monday he came to my office to apologize for all the construction noise. How sweet was that? So we've been kind of flirting ever since. Its harmless and fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still def a boy-free weekend. We're going to some party over by Jebs house. I feel weird about this.. I'm kind of scared I'm going to run into him. Yet I want to. I am not a simple person to understand.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:190263</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/190263.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=190263"/>
    <title>Horoscope for today is a virtuous one</title>
    <published>2008-04-24T17:53:36Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-24T17:53:36Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Do you want to take things to a deeper level in your life? Instead of having a job, do you want to have a career? Instead of having a romantic relationship, do you want to be married? Instead of renting a home, do you want to buy one? These goals are good, they are healthy, and best of all -- they are attainable. You need to understand that. To reach them, take baby steps. You can't get to where you want to go all at once. Understand that things take time, and you will get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy crap. That's ALL that's been on my mind lately. Weird. Of course it's not telling me what I don't know - except - have some patience loser.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:190074</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/190074.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=190074"/>
    <title>Up, down, up, down</title>
    <published>2008-04-24T17:46:09Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-24T17:46:09Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So I had a decent nights sleep last night. I had pretty OK dreams and woke up on the right side of the bed. Last night I found a bunch of my "skinny" pants in the back of my closet (ladies, you know what I'm talking about). I pulled them out and tried them all on - AND THEY ALL FIT. Every single last one of them. I have literally over twenty pairs of jeans and pants in three sizes. So now I have to get rid of a bunch. Make some room in my closet. I'm pretty excited that I am down another size, also a little surprised. It's amazing what alcohol and depression can do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I had to bring my kid with me to work. She doesn't have school today or tomorrow (teacher in-service this late in the year?!?!) and so they were going to watch her. Well they have bible study (of course they do) this morning so they could only pick her up at noon. Sigh. So I brought her with me to work. It's annoying bc she's bored and forgot her DS or iPod. Sigh. So I show her this book I have. It's a book this graphic designer put together of graffiti he took pictures of and made into an Alphabet book. Each page has a picture of something cool graffiti wise and then he put the Letter on there. So my daughter is looking at it and says "Can I write down what each stands for?" Sure. Thinking - she's going to write each down on a piece of paper. No. Instead - she WROTE IN THE BOOK. I couldn't believe it. I was working so I wasn't paying attention to what she was doing until she was into the fifth page. Makes me angry bc this is a special order book and I don't know if I can get another. I had to order it on the internet as it was a special short time deal - and now you can't get them anymore. I am just sick about it. I know it's not the end of the world and a stupid misunderstanding - but STILL!!!! GRRR!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like this guy said to me yesterday - when you have kids or dogs, you just can't get too attached to stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I went from good mood to pissy mood. Let's hope I can bring it back up to good again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, just got done with lunch. My mom came and got Evie and now I can get some work done without worrying about her. A little more relaxed. Tomorrow she'll get dropped off back here and we'll go to Final Friday where we'll see her art piece at the exhibit by my work, then to dinner and then to synagogue because it's Passover. Then Sat we have this party we're invited to at Ridgeport where they will have the jetski's out - uh, it's only supposed to be 71 out - a little chilly for jetskiing. But there will be other stuff so sounds fun I guess. Anything to get out in the sun - oh wait - it's going to be cloudy and overcast. Scratch that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I tell you guys how my daughter (ten) has fallen in love with John Mayer? All on her own. I had nothing to do with it. I think she first heard his songs from me - but then started looking up videos on Youtoobe and that's all she wrote. Now? Obsessed. Cracks me up. I remember having crushes at her age. One huge one was Jeff Bridges in Against All Odds. Of course I was more like 13 or 14 - but still. The song with it? SPOKE TO ME PEOPLE. I think this is how I learned that love = obsession. Heh.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:189916</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/189916.html"/>
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    <title>math problem</title>
    <published>2008-04-23T18:26:47Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-23T18:26:47Z</updated>
    <content type="html">How much exercise is seven flights of stairs at least four to five times a day? I'm on the seventh floor and doing the stairs every time I come in or leave - in out in out - plus going up to other floors to deal with stuff. Man - my butt better be small by this summer and my thighs practically invisible. But since I'm doing them in wedge heels, my calves are going to be HUGE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still in a funk, but doing the stairs helps a little. It's hard to be such a crank when you're trying not to fall down seven flights of stairs in heels - and trying to make it to the last floor without passing out. Defying death preceeds over depression. At least my depression. Others possibly seek it. Or welcome it. But whatev's.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:189517</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/189517.html"/>
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    <title>It Only Hurts When I Breathe</title>
    <published>2008-04-23T14:50:04Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-23T14:50:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I had bad dreams all night last night. And even when I would wake up, they would begin again right after I fell back asleep. Grrr. That sucked big time. All the fear and weakness that you've had in the depths of your mind comes out in your nightmare. Good times. So needless to say, I'm exhausted and not in a great mood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to journal out stuff last night right before bed and I think that's what triggered it. I'm pretty sure that didn't help. Either do it during the day or not at all. I was writing some pretty good stuff though. Don't know if I'll ever let anyone read it, but I was surprised by it.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:189275</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/189275.html"/>
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    <title>Watch out - I'm in a mood</title>
    <published>2008-04-22T16:41:40Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-22T16:41:40Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Ok - so there is this guy at work. Typical programmer/engineer - social retard. He has bugged me several times before - inappropriate things like coming up behind me when I sit and grabbing my shoulders and such. Anyway - yesterday he walked into my office and said "I'm looking for my office chair." I go "Oh sorry Dan, but I know this is mine bc I just took off my label that was on it." He goes "Well sorry J but I'm looking for my office chair" and proceeds to walk into my office and come up behind me and start searching my chair - WHILE I'M SITTING IN IT. HE turns over one arm rest and sees MY STICKER with MY NAME on it and turns and leaves. I just stood there aghast. I couldn't believe it. No only did he not ask to come in, he didn't believe me when I told him this wasn't his chair and proceeded to invade my personal space on many levels. Creep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning he stops by to say he found his office chair. I go "you know what Dan? I think it was completely inappropriate and wrong what you did yesterday. Not only did you not ask to come into my office, but you didn't believe me when I specifically told you this wasn't your chair and you proceeded then to search my property while I was sitting in it. That made me really uncomfortable and was completely wrong." He just stood there stammering and then was all "I'm sorry" and I go "Whatever Dan" and turned back to my work. He just walked off. I'm not going to let that happen. It's ridiculous and if he doesn't know it's inappropriate - well here's your lesson. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother also sent me some email about this Christian Jew - (which there is no such thing - bc Christians believe in Christ and the Jews don't - but whatever) - who wrote this book - wait - here is what she wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have been reading some great books lately that I thought you all might find interesting.  They are fiction by an author Joel Rosenberg.  While they are fiction they are also eerily prophetic probably because he is a Christian Jew who writes from Old Testament perspective regarding what is now going on in the Middle East.  Wow, it seems that we surely must be living in the last days even as the ruler of Iran predicts.  Be ready and watching.  love and prayers mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I emailed her back - Enough mom - no more. Do not send anymore emails like this to my work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm cranky - can you tell? It all started with the stupid horoscopes yesterday. Both said "I'm going to have a chance encounter with someone I've missed very much" and that I will want them back in my life. The other horoscope said "Everyone makes mistakes -- and you should remember that today, when someone who once hurt you comes back into your life." So what did I do all last night? Expect him to show. And he didn't. And I was disappointed. ALL BECAUSE OF TWO SEPARATE HOROSCOPE READINGS. I'm so pathetic. I'm pissed that I expected him to show. And I'm pissed that I'm pissed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such is my life.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:188960</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/188960.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=188960"/>
    <title>pixies</title>
    <published>2008-04-18T03:43:06Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-18T03:43:06Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I just have to post this. I saw it today and needed to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="4" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heart them so much.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:188752</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/188752.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=188752"/>
    <title>Something is up...</title>
    <published>2008-04-17T19:07:09Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-17T19:09:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm in such a bizarre mood. I can't sit still, I can't concentrate, I can't even hardly listen to music because I don't have the patience. Something is going on. I can't figure it out yet - but something is definitely going to happen. I can't stop talking and cracking jokes today, laughing and having a good time. I don't know why either - because it's not like anything big has happened. Mr. Seattle hasn't called or emailed - so I'm kind of writing him off (a bit disappointed - but no real loss except probably pretty good essex!). The Man turned me down for lunch tomorrow, but then said Sunday might be free. Can't figure him out. He is probably thinking the exact same thing about me. Plus, I'm not even sure what we're doing - friends? More than friends potentially? I don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is kind of Friday, even though it's Thursday. I'm working from home tomorrow as we move offices so maybe that's it. The electricity in the air? Excitement off the move? No, I don't think that's it. Something else - I just can't put my finger on it. Something that is starting from down below, through my stomach and buzzing on up through my head. My thoughts are a mile a minute and lunch today was zinger after zinger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dreams have been a mixture of good and bad lately. Also confusing. I dreamt one night that I was trying to escape this place, but also needed to help these people by pulling dead bodies out of the water. I could still feel their cold bloated heavy bodies as I tried to lug them out. So bizarre. What does that mean? Another part of that dream was escaping the crocodile infested waters. That's not a fun way to wake up. Another dream was getting a new sweet little puppy. Another with the ex - not good, but also not bad. I hope that stuff stops. Good, bad. Good, bad. Of course I wonder what triggers these? I know last nights about the ex was from all the stupid talk of him yesterday. The less that happens, the better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are moving offices tomorrow. In my officeway right now, I have had to deal with moving people up and down the hallways for two days. It's very annoying. I haven't been able to concentrate on my work and it is a miracle I got my project done last night. I can't wait to work from home tomorrow. Quiet peaceful home. I can read through documents without having to put headphones on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway - this miscellany is ending. I didn't have much to say. Just the sporadic thoughts of a lunatic, obviously. I was writing to my sister and telling her I've slept with more men than all the women in our family - in generations of our family - and it kind of struck me as - wow. I'm the only whore. Good job me. Everyone else has slept with and consecutively married one man. Except for that one great aunt who married like eight times. Many of those men died. Hmmm. I'm betting she was a whooo-ore as well. It falls to every other generation I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erykah Badu rocks. She's calming me down now. I can at least thank Heeb for that. Although he annoyingly categorized all his music folders last name, then first. Who does that? Certainly not normal systems out there. So I have to look up Badu instead of Erykah. Speaking of.. ding dong has never given me back my flash drive. Grrr. I guess I'm going to have to breakdown and buy another one. I hate breakups. Holy cow - I just realized it's been a whole month since we broke up. Wow.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:188518</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/188518.html"/>
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    <title>I fell down the stairs...ran into a door...tripped and fell on the knife</title>
    <published>2008-04-16T16:58:21Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-16T19:09:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Maybe I shouldn't have told one guy about the other. It's not like we're dating. It's just been fun - but telling him I mashed on someone Sat. night after he bailed on me - probably not the best judgment call. He hasn't responded back to that email. Hmmm. Oh well. I know guys probably don't like to hear that stuff. Kind of insensitive on my part - but what is to say we're anything more than fun friends? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Seattle hasn't called or emailed yet. Kind of irritating. Probably like The Man who waited until the next Thurs. to contact me. Men. Sigh. Like I said before - fifteen or fifty - they are still lame like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Jeb's friends keeps emailing me. It's the one I've been in contact the whole time. He wants to talk about him and tell me all this stuff that I really don't need to hear. I'm trying to get over this guy, hello - it's a bit difficult if you keep bringing him up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to a girl here at work and told her that I admitted that if he came over tonight - I would probably totally cave. Why does it have to be that way? I hate it. Why can't he beat the shit out of me? Maybe then I'd get over him. Come over and stab me - it would probably feel better, that's for sure. Be an asshole. I want you to. That way I can hate you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were talking yesterday and I told her if Mr. Seattle doesn't call - then I'm just going to move on to the next guy. Then I asked her - Am I bitter? She said "Sometimes I find it difficult to differentiate between "bitter" and "realistic." Heh. She's not bitter. Not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDITED TO ADD: &lt;br /&gt;Not even five minutes after posting this I got two more emails from people talking about him or asking about him. WHA? WHY? Hello universe? Hep a girl out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also The Man emailed back finally and said he was glad I had fun on Sat. Cool. I'm glad he knows we're cool like that and still fun friends. ;)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:188171</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/188171.html"/>
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    <title>Much faster now</title>
    <published>2008-04-15T17:14:08Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-15T17:14:08Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My boys and I were talking to this young guy here at work. He's in his early 20's and is always making jokes that are inappropriate. Anyway he was saying "I don't have internet access at my house anymore." I go "why?" and he goes "beccause the neighbors put the lock-down on their wireless." He said "their bandwidth is probably so much faster now" and I said "Yeah. Probably was pretty slow from all that p0rn they weren't watching."</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:187904</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/187904.html"/>
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    <title>The 'rents are INSANE (and when I say 'rents I'm mostly speaking about my mother)</title>
    <published>2008-04-15T16:02:02Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-15T16:02:02Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Sunday I met my parents for lunch. It was insane. My mother is a kookamarook. Seriously she's old and loony. Insisted that the restaurant we were at was Greek. Because there was hummus and fattouch on the menu. Also on the menu? Chicken fried steak, rigatoni, spaghetti and meatballs, meatloaf - you get the picture. I kept saying, it's not Greek. She kept saying "I think it is. They have hummus." Oh well then, end of story. Sorry, my mistake. So she goes as far - after ten/fifteen minutes of this - to ask the waitress "Is this restaurant Greek?" The waitress was like "Uh, no?" I just looked at her. My dad was listening to a baseball game on headphones the entire time. Wish I would have been that smart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then she has this book. This Jesus book. And I know where she's going with it. As we're leaving she goes to hand it to me and says "Here - I think you should read this..." I looked at it, looked at her and said "Uh, yeah, I don't think so." I turn to walk away and she goes "I gave it to my Jewish friends and they liked it." Whatever. I got in my car and practically skid-marked the parking lot trying to get out of there. I was too hung over to deal with her and her stupidity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I get this message yesterday. "Hi J. I'm at the house right now. You have some &lt;i&gt;pretttttty interesting&lt;/i&gt; neighbors." Sigh. They're a young black family. So she calls my sister and my sister emails me this - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see...inappropriate comments about your neighbors, their big suv with tinted windows (hi, I have one of those), "do-rags", dad saw a "blonde woman" going into the house (so?), etc etc... Mom said "let's just hope that they aren't gang members or anything". Then, she tells me about the book she tried to give you about Jesus that she gave her friends who are Jewish. I'm like "you gave Jewish people a book about Jesus? That is so rude!" "well, they aren't &lt;i&gt;both&lt;/i&gt; Jewish, just him. He gave it back and said thanks". I can't even talk to her at all about the whole Jewish thing. You've definitely trumped Jul turning Catholic with this one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So according to my mom I am a gang member. I drive an SUV with tinted windows, I have had blonde women in my house before, and I have been known to wear a do-rag. OMG. Two things: a) she has way too much time on her hands to be snooping at my neighbors and b) she's such an asshole with her religion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and my nephew who's 16 found a loveseat out on someone's curb that they had thrown away and decided that he needed it in his room. So he and his girlfriend load it in her jeep. He gets ringworm all over from it the next day. EW EW EW EW EW EW! I didn't know you could get ringworm from a couch - but apparently. Let's put on our Kevlar suits kids so we can move furniture. BLECH. That kid is going to learn the hard way on EVERYTHING. Just like my sister. Just like me.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:187786</id>
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    <title>I shall call this one Mr. Seattle</title>
    <published>2008-04-13T14:07:47Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-13T14:27:26Z</updated>
    <content type="html">OK. So... Last night I was supposed to go out with my friend B and The Man. Well The Man bailed - something about having to break down their equipment - so it was just B and I. We are sitting at a table next to these guts. One is older and the other one younger and cute. The young one kept watching me. I was in this boobage dress with my high-heeled knee high boots - very hot. Anyway B and I were talking about whether we should stay or go. So the cute guy pipes in on how we should stay. I learn he's from Seattle here on business for the next 3 months. We talk for a long time and then he goes up to listen to the band. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B's boyfriend shows up so I decide I'm going to find Mr. Seattle. Honestly I just went up there to give him my card. Instead he pulls me towards him and is doing all this stuff with his hands - it was crazy. I can't remember the last time I totally mashed on a guy in a bar like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he asks at the end of the night - do you want to find a diner or go to my hotel? Guess which I chose? We stayed up there and talked for a long time. Then he says "I want to taste you." O.M.G. I didn't, but I wanted to SO bad. And I will. If he calls/emails this week I'm pretty sure that i'd pretty much cave. I think I may have found my lover. Its short term, he's a good age (younger than The Man but older than The Boy), and he's sexy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kind of having a lot of fun. If this keeps up, I am going to get over things pretty quickly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Forgot - dude used to work for Microsoft back in the day. Quit a few years ago bc he didn't believe in their product anymore. How hot is that?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:187442</id>
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    <title>lalala - boring</title>
    <published>2008-04-12T19:33:20Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-12T19:33:20Z</updated>
    <content type="html">There is something in the air. I don't know what it is. I'm feeling very anxious, irritable. I'm not sure why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My horoscope says: "Things are not going to make you happy right now -- so if you are feeling stressed out over something, retail therapy is definitely not the way to go. Sure, you'll feel powerful buying something shiny and new for yourself -- for a couple hours. Then, whatever you are avoiding dealing with will be right there again at the front of your mind. Tackle this thing up front and without hesitation. It will not be as bad as you think it will be. In fact, it might even be fun."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what this means. Tackling something. Housework? A person? Tackling a person sounds kind of good to me right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have the kid last night and could have gone out but didn't. I decided since I was going out tonight, I'd just get a movie after going to synagogue. The movie was bad. Boring. Depressing. Not at all what I expected. Kind of put me in a bad mood I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did enjoy the service last night though. I'm learning more and more how to pronounce these things. It is not easy. And trying to read and sing the words is more difficult than you think. Then, there are just songs only written in hebrew, no english there - so then I have to sit there and mumble. But I still love it. I know it sounds weird, but it feels natural to me. Oh and the cute boy from last weeks service wasn't there last night darn it. I guess I'll have to see if he goes another week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm cranky. This may not bode well for The Man and my friend who are going out with me tonight. Maybe if I take a nap I'll feel better. According to my horoscope - uh no. I need to face whatever I'm avoiding straight on. What is it though? I have no idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh - I also know what's pissing me off. THE EFFING WEATHER. It's gorgeous sunny out - but the wind is unbearable. I'm not kidding. It's like 50 mph (ok, maybe 25, but still). So annoying. This is what I HATE about KS.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fishkiller:187089</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://fishkiller.livejournal.com/187089.html"/>
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    <title>doctor doctor give me the news</title>
    <published>2008-04-10T21:13:58Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-10T21:13:58Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So I had my appt. He listened to me for a long time and then said "you know, I really don't think you have ovarian cancer." I said I kind of knew that but was just checking to make sure. He felt around and said what I was feeling was just the normal ovulation stuff and then probably did some stress injury to my back. I told him as far as the digestive issues were concerned, that I do deal with stress through my stomach so it's not surprising I had that and for so long. He went ahead and did the blood work just in case. So we'll see what comes from that. Probably nothing. I'm just a neurotic freak. Please don't tell me symptoms I'm having sound like "____". If you do, I will develop those symptoms tenfold and then have every test done for "____" known to man. Do you see why I'm converting to Judaism? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Man finally emailed me. &lt;i&gt;Finally.&lt;/i&gt; Such a guy thing to wait so many days before contacting you. &lt;i&gt;Eyes rolling into the back of my head.&lt;/i&gt; Whatever. Doesn't matter if they're fifteen or fifty - they are still the same. He said "ok - so here's the obligatory email you insisted I send. How's it going? How's that?" I emailed back - "Not good enough. Try again." I'm such a bitch. But a funny one. So we've been emailing back and forth. He wants to go out with me and my friend Sat night. He invited himself. So yeah - the whole "obligatory email" thing is all a ruse. He totally wants me. I'm just kidding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW - the whole getting it on a regular basis? Totally sucks bc now I'm going into withdrawal. And right now it's the peak part of the month? So I'm going stir-crazy. Thanks for that Jeb.</content>
  </entry>
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