<?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-31130423</id><updated>2012-02-02T23:28:00.357-08:00</updated><category term='quality of life'/><category term='partying'/><category term='Dating'/><category term='Weird'/><category term='Doctor'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='rambling'/><category term='fitness'/><title type='text'>Single Life As I know It</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>155</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-8904653706458991667</id><published>2008-09-29T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T11:47:03.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Been a while...</title><content type='html'>Hey hey my non-existent readers! I realize that nobody stops by here anymore since I abandoned my blog many moons ago. Well, I just feel like writing today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many things happened since my last post that I can't even begin to get you caught up. In a nutshell, MB and I are still together and are, in fact, blissfully happy. Cheesy but true! The whole sex problem we had back in the Spring resolved itself. He is the sweetest guy ever and I love him dearly. I never thought it was possible to find a guy who would treat me the way he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any way, he is actually in China right now and will not be back for another week and a half. I knew I was going to miss him but I had no idea how much! It caught me by surprise. I spent months and months at a time being single and it never bothered me. I always had something to do but now that I got used to spending most of my free time with MB, I have no idea what to do with myself! Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I thought I had a lot to write about when I started this post but I am drawing a blank for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-8904653706458991667?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/8904653706458991667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=8904653706458991667' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8904653706458991667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8904653706458991667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/09/been-while.html' title='Been a while...'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-5636446652241216631</id><published>2008-04-28T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:33.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love him, love him not, love him, love him not...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/SBYKXLql81I/AAAAAAAAADc/luALPbNpwvs/s1600-h/oxeye-daisy-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194350613603152722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/SBYKXLql81I/AAAAAAAAADc/luALPbNpwvs/s320/oxeye-daisy-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I have a lot on my mind right now.... The next 3 weeks are going to be extremely stressful at work and otherwise but the big debate I have going on in my head at the moment is whether I am happy in my relationship with MB or not....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;As I wrote before, we have gotten really close in the past few months. While the words haven't been said, he is in love with me but I am not sure I am in love with him. I can honestly say that my life without him will not be the same; however, I am about to turn 28 in June and I can't help but wonder if I have time to be with someone I am not sure I can potentially see myself with long-term.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I've always been one of those girls who vowed not to ever settle for anything less than perfect for me; I didn't mind being single; I didn't mind going home alone every night. I had an epiphany recently though when contemplating whether I should tell MB what I am thinking or wait and see how it turns out.. I realized that I am absolutely terrified of being alone again! It is such a strange feeling for me and, needless to say, I am ashamed of feeling that way but that is the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;That being said, my Mom has a theory that I never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; agreed with. She always said that in any relationship, there was always one person who loved the other person more. The other person "allowed" the first person to love him/her. I am starting to wonder if my mother was right. Every time I was really into the guy, I felt like I was more into him than he was into me. With MB it is the other way around. In the past i didn't allow myself to get into a relationship like that but I gave MB a chance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I attempted to jot down the pros and cons to see if that helps me decide where to go from here:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;What I like about MB:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He thinks I am the most incredible, beautiful and smart woman in the world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He respects me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He loves me for me, with all of my quirks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He never makes me wait; he calls when he says he will, he shows up when he says he will. (This one seems like it would be a given with the boyfriend but wasn't usually the case with my previous boyfriends)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He has a decent job and the potential to grow his career&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He is taller than me... even when I am wearing heals. (yes, that is my one superficial requirement)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He will do anything to make me happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;What I don't like about MB(note: I am not trying to sound arrogant and/or conceited here; just stating the facts):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He is a recovering cocaine addict. While he has not done any drugs for about 6 months and promised me that he would not, at least as long as we are together, because I told him I wouldn't have anything to do with him if he did; it still scares me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He drinks more than I would like him to. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a nice drink and can party like a rock star on occasion but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;MB's&lt;/span&gt; mother is sort of an alcoholic and I can see those tendencies in him as well. It might be something he'll grow out of but what if he doesn't?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;As stated by MB himself and every single one of his friends, I am way out of his league. I am not going to get into details here but let's just say, they have a point here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;He is not as athletic as I would like him to be. I am not talking about how buff he is or anything like that but I enjoy working out and doing physical activities outside but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MB's&lt;/span&gt; idea of "doing something outside" is "porch drinking".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Last but certainly not least, I am not THAT sexually attracted to him. I think the problems we had at the beginning of our relationship, that I mentioned in previous posts, took the toll on me. Technically the sex has gotten better but I am "just not that into it" I guess...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I still don't know what to do here but writing down my concerns helped... Thanks for reading!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-5636446652241216631?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/5636446652241216631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=5636446652241216631' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5636446652241216631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5636446652241216631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-have-lot-on-my-mind-right-now.html' title='Love him, love him not, love him, love him not...'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/SBYKXLql81I/AAAAAAAAADc/luALPbNpwvs/s72-c/oxeye-daisy-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2467101217473250670</id><published>2008-04-23T12:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:34.031-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How could you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/SA-Kxbql80I/AAAAAAAAADU/2vsWLIRNacE/s1600-h/SULLIVAN-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192521477226099522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/SA-Kxbql80I/AAAAAAAAADU/2vsWLIRNacE/s320/SULLIVAN-3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not the one to cry at the drop of a hat but this essay brought tears to my eyes. Why do people think dogs are disposable toys?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How Could You?"&lt;br /&gt;Copyright Jim Willis 2001&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" &amp;shy; but then you'd relent, and roll me over for a bellyrub.&lt;br /&gt;My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.&lt;br /&gt;She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" &amp;shy; still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."&lt;br /&gt;As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch &amp;shy; because your touch was now so infrequent &amp;shy; and I would have defended them with my life if need be.&lt;br /&gt;I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.&lt;br /&gt;Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.&lt;br /&gt;I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.&lt;br /&gt;After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"&lt;br /&gt;They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you &amp;shy; that you had changed your mind &amp;shy; that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.&lt;br /&gt;I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.&lt;br /&gt;She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself &amp;shy; a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.&lt;br /&gt;May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.&lt;br /&gt;The End&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2467101217473250670?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2467101217473250670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2467101217473250670' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2467101217473250670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2467101217473250670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/04/how-could-you.html' title='How could you?'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/SA-Kxbql80I/AAAAAAAAADU/2vsWLIRNacE/s72-c/SULLIVAN-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3049997945605757621</id><published>2008-04-11T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T08:13:18.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIFing....</title><content type='html'>Important question here, kids:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW DO YOU STAY MOTIVATED AT WORK?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, I have a separate office in a different building from anyone else I work with, which means I can pretty much do whatever I want, i. e. pick my nose and eat some messy food while reading your blogs. I really do enjoy that part of my daily routine. However, I am starting to think I am allergic to my office because right around 2pm I get super unmotivated and sleepy and it lasts up until I leave work. As soon as I walk out the door, I am full of energy. What is wrong with me? After a couple of days of doing nothing in the afternoons, I usually end up having to work on weekends to meet the deadlines - definitely not the smartest way to use my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions on how I can keep myself focused in the afternoons would be greatly appreciated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side note: DO NOT EVER GO TO SEE "MEET THE BROWNS" - IT IS THE MOST BORING LONG ASS (2 HRS) MOVIE EVER!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3049997945605757621?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3049997945605757621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3049997945605757621' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3049997945605757621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3049997945605757621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/04/tgifing.html' title='TGIFing....'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6453410367394271276</id><published>2008-04-02T13:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T14:17:36.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A word about the dangers of drunk-dialing/facebooking/myspacing/emailing/texting...</title><content type='html'>Don't say I didn't warn you!!! Try to refrain from doing any of the above when drunk, kids! Trust me! Experience talking here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I went to a party at a friend's house last Friday, which turned out to be more fun than I expected so I stayed a little too late and drank a little too much (damn those "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;kamikaze&lt;/span&gt;" shots!). Upon stumbling up the stairs to my apartment at 3am I decided that it was a perfect time to have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; conversation with Matt (army guy living in NC, remember?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Hey stranger are you awake?" {why wouldn't he be, right? nobody ever sleeps at 3am, right?}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He never answered. Did I stop there? Oh no, I logged on to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MySpace&lt;/span&gt; so I can send him a message.&lt;br /&gt;Here's how it went down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Me: I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; you earlier because I was going to ask you a very weird, random and hypothetical question. I need you to give me an honest answer and then forget that i asked you this. Deal?Here's the question: If we lived in the same zip code, do you think there would have been a possibility for more than random sex between us?I know, I know, you are thinking I am nuts but I have a reason for asking this question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;{He answered within minutes, apparently, my text woke him up}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Matt: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, why are you asking this question in the first place?&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ANd&lt;/span&gt; yes, of course we would date! not just be a random sex partner thingy...yeah weirdo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Me: That's all I wanted to know ;-) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Matt: why did you want to know? are you coming near here? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Me: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hehehe&lt;/span&gt; no, that's not in the plans. I'd rather not explain why I asked you that because you are going to think I am even a bigger weirdo. In fact, I was sort of expecting a different answer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Matt : nah what were you expecting..i mean &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;wtf&lt;/span&gt; Girlie Monkey! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt; please explain to me and don't be illusive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Me: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. Well, for some reason, I can't get you out of my head. Even though I only met you once a long time ago... So, I was hoping you'd tell me "no" or just ignore my message so I would get pissed off, come to my senses and forget about it.Yeah, I am nuts ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Matt: awe Girlie Monkey...if we were close I would definitely be your man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Me: You are not helping!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Yeah... I feel like a complete idiot, now that I read this message exchange the next morning. The scary part is - I really do feel that way. Matt seems to have everything I've ever wanted in a guy but he lives on the other side of the country! I am dating MB, who is the best thing that ever happened to me (except for one problem - different story), who treats me like a queen, and what do I do?.... I think about Matt all the time... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it is true, there is no way I wanted Matt to know any of this (until I took those shots...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story is... well, you got it... put your cell phone and laptop in the freezer prior to going drinking!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6453410367394271276?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6453410367394271276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6453410367394271276' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6453410367394271276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6453410367394271276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/04/word-about-dangers-of-drunk.html' title='A word about the dangers of drunk-dialing/facebooking/myspacing/emailing/texting...'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-8059914589835468065</id><published>2008-03-05T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T07:49:41.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on MB and ramblings about my stupidity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. MB&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After a couple of frustrating attempts, MB and I seemed to make the whole sex thing work but due to some girlie difficulties for the last week or so, it only happened once. We'll see how it goes. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everything seems to be going great besides that but I am starting to have these crazy thoughts, as usual. I am not sure MB is someone I can spend the rest of my life with. I know, we haven't been seeing each other for that long but I can't help but wonder if I am wasting my time if nothing is going to come out of it. Don't get me wrong, I really like him and care about him but I am not sure it will ever translate to love... He, on the other hand, is deeply in love with me and I don't want to hurt him... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Matt (remember him? The one that used to be in Iraq)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have (unsuccessfully) been trying  to get Matt out of my head for the last 5 months... He lives on the other side of the country, I don't have any plans for moving that way, he might be moving back within 3 hours of me next year but I may not even be here by then; I have no idea if anything could even happen between us if we did live in the same zip code. But I am strangely drawn to him. I've only met the guy in person once but it was a magical weekend, which made me wonder what could have been... He is one of the two guys I met who I could see myself being with for the long haul... I promised myself to forget about it several times but just when I think I succeed, Matt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;emailes&lt;/span&gt; me or texts me and I am back where I started... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why can't I be happy with the guy who is here now and who is in love with me?!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-8059914589835468065?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/8059914589835468065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=8059914589835468065' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8059914589835468065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8059914589835468065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/03/update-on-mb-and-ramblings-about-my.html' title='Update on MB and ramblings about my stupidity'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2448233959544414130</id><published>2008-02-15T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T10:06:19.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frust-freaking-rated!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am sure you all have been dieing to find out what's been going on in my personal life... you are about to get way too much information!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So things have been going pretty well with MB but there are 2 complications: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MB and I work together. I am not his boss, he is not my boss. We work for the same company in different departments. It's not really against the company policy for us to be dating (I think...) but my boss would flip out if she found out. We've been keeping it a secret at work because I don't want to ruin my relationship with the boss lady, plus I kind of like to keep my private life out of the office any way. Not sure how long we can keep this up though...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now for the juicy TMI part... MB and I tried to have sex three times now... What's the problem, you ask... well, "The Pipi" (that's what my best friend calls it and it gets a chuckle out of me every time, for some reason, so I am going to stick with this scientific term) didn't want to cooperate.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am soooo frustrated. We are, however, making progress. The first night Pipi was just dead, despite my skillful efforts. The second night events followed this pattern: dead-alive-dead-alive-dead... Now, last night I was ecstatic to feel it getting stronger and stronger. Pipi was very much alive for a long time up until we got to the point of needing a condom. After a few seconds of looking for one and opening the package, The Pipi died... Happy freaking Valentine's Day to me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Poor MB! At this point, he kind of wanted to jump out the window. We talked about it for a while. He doesn't understand why it has to work this way. He says it hasn't happened before (except for an occasional mishap after way too many drinks, which I think is totally normal) but he also hasn't been so into any girl in a long time. After dreaming about me for months, his mind is playing tricks on his Pipi. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am still not giving up but it is getting ridiculous!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2448233959544414130?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2448233959544414130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2448233959544414130' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2448233959544414130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2448233959544414130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/02/frust-freaking-rated.html' title='Frust-freaking-rated!!!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6911406411133441682</id><published>2008-02-01T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T10:06:35.959-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflecting and Contemplating...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not sure why I am in such phylosophical mood today...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;     First of all, I am struggling to figure out why I am the way I am when it comes to relationships. It hit me today that I am absolutely terrified of commitment. I knew I had some issues with it before but I never realized how bad it got till now. The reason I am thinking about it is MB and I are doing really well and I think it has a potential to turn into something really serious and I love that idea. I want that to happen but at the same time I kind of find myself suffocating at times. Coming to think of it, I always felt that way at the beginning of a relationship. I really haven't been in a serious relationship in a year and I was single for about 3 years before that one. I am so used to relying on myself and making my onw decisions without having to take anybody else's opinions or plans into consideration, that I find it incredibly difficult to adjust at times. Any suggestions on how to cope would be greatly appreciated.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;     Second of all, I am struggling with keeping up with my friends. I can't say that I have A LOT of friends but I have quite a few and most of them are very close friends. Due to the fact that I've moved around the country and the globe a few times, a lot of them are very far away from me. Granted, Facebook, MySpace, texting and cell phones in general have made the communication a lot easier but I still constantly feel guilty for not talking to certain friends enough. I am really starting to feel like I have too many close long-distance friends. Ok, that's a terrible thing to say and I certainly don't want to lose any of them. I am just struggling to find the right balance between having to do some work, so I can pay the bills and spending hours on Facebook.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In fact, I should be working right now instead of blogging. I guess I should get to it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6911406411133441682?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6911406411133441682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6911406411133441682' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6911406411133441682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6911406411133441682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/02/reflecting-and-contemplating.html' title='Reflecting and Contemplating...'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-756798761786569693</id><published>2008-01-30T09:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T09:45:14.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Date Report</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As I mentioned in the previous post, I've been hanging out with this guy MB a lot lately. We've known each other for more than 2 years and became really close friends. Needless to say, I usually can't make the transition from being friends to dating but when MB asked if I wanted to go to dinner at a very nice restaurant (which I mentioned to him was my favorite place to eat in town), we both knew it was a date...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was a little nervous about it but once we got there it was just another comfortable evening. I was starving by the time we headed for the restaurant. We ordered a bottle of wine and believe I managed to drink most of it (half of that happened before my steak arrived)... After dinner, we went to the bar in the lower level for a little bit. I had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mojito&lt;/span&gt;... That was the beginning of the end as it turned out...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We went back to my place and I invited MB to come up and hang out for a little while longer since it was still early. Well... I had more wine... Then somehow we got to making out and it was amazing... until, all of a sudden, I felt the urge to throw up, so without saying a word (because I couldn't) I ran over to the bathroom...  After that, the only thing I could really do was pass out, so MB put me to bed and left.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, as you can see, I am an awesome date! Now, I really do know that you are not supposed to get wasted on a first date and probably shouldn't do that when you have to be at work at 8am the next morning... Oh well, things happen. MB is still as into me as he was before so stay tuned for more juicy stories.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh and by the way, I had to take the first half of the day after off due to a "migraine" :-))&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-756798761786569693?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/756798761786569693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=756798761786569693' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/756798761786569693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/756798761786569693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/01/date-report.html' title='The Date Report'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-5492706924297356869</id><published>2008-01-28T10:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T11:07:40.849-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know, I know I've been boring!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've had a lot on my mind lately. Here's a "reader's digest" version of what's been going on in my life:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Contemplating a trip half-way around the world to see my family and childhood friends for the first time in 8 years.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trying to come up with enough money to finance the said trip...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trying to lose 20 lbs in the next 6 weeks &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finding out that my beloved Grandpa passed away and not being able to make it to his funeral...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Going to Northern Wisconsin on a business trip and almost dying of hypothermia (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, that's a slight &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;exaggeration&lt;/span&gt; but I swear I had a couple of close calls). Thank God I made a couple of friends up there and they helped me survive the weather by pouring alcoholic beverages down my throat as soon as we were done working for the day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Working a lot in general&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Getting really close with one of the guys I work with. We'll call him MB. We've been hanging out and talking a lot for the last month and a half. No funny business, just friends but he asked me to go to dinner at a very expensive restaurant with him tonight... I think it's a date... I am confused...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Waiting for the new season of LOST to start this Thursday! Is anyone else as psyched about it as I am?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Toodles&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-5492706924297356869?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/5492706924297356869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=5492706924297356869' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5492706924297356869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5492706924297356869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-know-i-know-ive-been-boring.html' title='I know, I know I&apos;ve been boring!!!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1483283029966312864</id><published>2008-01-14T12:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T13:07:56.042-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apparently Every Building in America has an address... Who would have thunk?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Imagine me getting into a cab at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;O'Hare&lt;/span&gt; International Airport in Chicago trying to go to St. Charles, IL to a resort for a regional meeting last Tuesday morning. Now, just to help your imagination, I was completely exhausted after not sleeping the whole night before due to 12 hours of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tornadoes&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;? It's January! We are supposed to have snow storms, not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tornadoes&lt;/span&gt;!!!), so, naturally, I am not in the best of moods even though, I have to say, I am still looking fabulous. Here's how my conversation with the cab driver went:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ME: Hi. Do you take credit cards?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cabby&lt;/span&gt; (in a very uncertain voice): Aha... Where to?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ME: Such and Such Resort in St. Charles, IL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cabby&lt;/span&gt;: In what city?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ME: St. Charles...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Cabby&lt;/span&gt;: Huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ME: You know, the western suburb of Chicago...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Cabby&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Aaahmmm&lt;/span&gt; address (pushing some buttons on his GPS)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ME: I do not have the exact address but I have very simple directions on how to get there. (I wasn't very prepared because I was supposed to have a ride from the airport but it fell though - long story)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Cabby&lt;/span&gt;: (Grabs the paper with directions from my hands and proceeds to put in my home address, which was on an itinerary, stapled to the directions, into his GPS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ME: No, that's not the right address...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Cabby&lt;/span&gt;: (10 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; later after several unsuccessful attempts) You gave me the wrong address!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ME: No... I tried to tell you... Keep going straight, I'll tell you exactly where to turn...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After 10 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; of silence, my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Cabby&lt;/span&gt; comes up with a sacramental phrase...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Cabby&lt;/span&gt;: YOU KNOW...EVERY BUILDING IN AMERICA HAS AN ADDRESS!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ME: ??????????&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The rest of the ride, he told me he didn't think we were going the right way every 5 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;. Upon arrival at the resort, he searched his car for about 10 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; for a credit card slip (you know, the kind the stores used before they came out with the electronic cc machines; except that he didn't have a machine for it). It took him about 20 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; to write down my cred. card info on the slip and call it in to some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;mysterious&lt;/span&gt; person who approved it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Needless to say, I took a stretch limo back to the airport the next day for half the price and the driver actually knew where he was going...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;At least it was educational... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1483283029966312864?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1483283029966312864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1483283029966312864' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1483283029966312864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1483283029966312864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2008/01/apparently-every-building-in-america.html' title='Apparently Every Building in America has an address... Who would have thunk?!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6465131468172248893</id><published>2007-12-14T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T20:20:09.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh crap!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Yeah... guess how old Brandon is... 21 freaking years old!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;That means... he was 10 years old when I had sex for the first time... I graduated with a Bachelor's degree 3 years before he got his high school diploma... oh never mind, I can go on forever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;This sucks! On the other hand... I guess I still got it if a hot 21 year-old is interested in me... and let me tell you... he looks at me like I am the hottest thing he has ever seen! Definitely flattering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6465131468172248893?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6465131468172248893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6465131468172248893' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6465131468172248893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6465131468172248893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/12/oh-crap.html' title='Oh crap!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-7384202861006806707</id><published>2007-12-14T08:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T08:58:20.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too sleepy to come up with a clever title</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I know you all are just dying to hear about what's new in my love life! You are not? Well, that's too bad because I am going to tell you any way!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's amazing how my Male Harem could change in just one night. So...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Gus&lt;/span&gt; - never heard from him again. I am relieved because I didn't want to go out with him in the first place but also a little annoyed. I was supposed to be the one to blow him off, not the other way around!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Matt&lt;/span&gt; - he is back in the U.S. as of Wednesday but he hasn't really made an effort to contact me via any known ways of modern communication. I was a little sad about it up until last night but I am over it (and you will see why if you continue reading... don't you love the suspense?!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Milan&lt;/span&gt; - he was part of the group of friends I went out with last night. To make the long story short, he had his chance and he blew it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My Male Harem isn't looking so good but I don't care because I have a date with a super hot guy tonight! We'll call him Brandon... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Brandon&lt;/span&gt; - he lives in the same building where my office is (I work on a college campus) and I've seen him around a lot but we never talked. Well, I bumped into him (literally ) at the night club last night. We ended up hanging out the rest of the night. I even made him dance even though it definitely didn't look like it was his cup of tea. We are going out for drinks tonight, so we'll see... Damn, it's been a long time since I had these butterflies! The best part is the way he looked at me the whole night - like I was the most beautiful creature on Earth. I am a little giddy, can you tell? ;-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Oh and, of course, the added bonus was the fact that Milan saw everything that was going on with me and Brandon at the club and wasn't happy about it... Oh well, he may not even realize it yet, but "you snooze - you lose..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I am off to try and figure out how I can make my eyes not look so red and see if I can squeeze in a nap in between work, friend's graduation and my date...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-7384202861006806707?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/7384202861006806707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=7384202861006806707' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7384202861006806707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7384202861006806707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-know-you-all-are-just-dying-to-hear.html' title='Too sleepy to come up with a clever title'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-8550705999889677965</id><published>2007-12-11T11:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T11:10:57.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Enlighten me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It's about time I got serious about blogging! Most of the blogs I read talk about their stats. How they looked up who's been reading their blog and how those readers got there by googling certain phrases.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Call me an idiot but I have no clue where to look for that kind of info...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Please enlighten me!!! Anyone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-8550705999889677965?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/8550705999889677965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=8550705999889677965' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8550705999889677965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8550705999889677965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/12/enlighten-me.html' title='Enlighten me!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3934279958002398234</id><published>2007-12-06T10:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T10:22:50.131-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Male Harem - Take 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When I first started this blog I was at a point in my life where I needed to date around, so I "collected" men for a while. Well... it's time to do so again. Can't say that my male harem is complete at the moment but I am going to work on that. So far, the members are:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Gus&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;strong&gt;someone a friend of mine is trying to set me up with. He seems nice, smart and successful and looking for a serious relationship. Unfortunately, I am not attracted to him at all; however, I will give him a chance. Stay tuned.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Milan&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;strong&gt;someone I have known for a couple of years. We have always been friends but there was always a very strong attraction there but the timing was always wrong for anything to happen. We recently made out while we were drunk. Not sure what's going to come out of this one... I like him but he can potentially be trouble for me because we both have very strong personalities, which I like but not sure that can be good for a relationship. On top of that, we are sort of at different points in our lives: he is still in college...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Matt&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;strong&gt;Last but definitely not least. Yes, the one who is in Iraq at the moment. We still talk via email and he is coming back in about a week. I know nothing can really happen between us since he'll be living in North Carolina but I just can't let go for some reason. He is someone I can totally see myself marrying, having kids and spending the rest of my life with. So unfair!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I'll keep you posted on any new developments or potential members&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3934279958002398234?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3934279958002398234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3934279958002398234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3934279958002398234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3934279958002398234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/12/male-harem-take-2.html' title='Male Harem - Take 2'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1862729242802541483</id><published>2007-11-19T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T10:23:35.087-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF? My Ex-Love of My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I had a little "blast from the past" experience that I'd like to share here. My girlfriend G. (who lives in Illinois, where I spent 3 fine years of my life) called me yesterday to chat. She told me that she went out to a local hang out the night before and ran into someone who had a message for me... That certain someone was Eric - aka the only guy I was truly in love with. I think I may have blogged about him before but don't feel like searching for the link. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;To make the long story short, Eric swept me off my feet, made me forget all about being cautious, taught me how to trust a guy I am with, introduced me to his parents, made plans for our future and...messed me up for life by dumping me without an explanation!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I had never been as upset over a boy. I literally laid in bed for a week, didn't eat or drink, just stared at the ceiling. Now, all of this happened more than 3 years ago. While I am completely over Eric and would not want to have anything to do with him, I could never become indifferent to what is going on in his life, for some reason. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Any how, Eric asked G. if she could give me his message. &lt;strong&gt;He wanted me to know that even though he was a jerk at the time and didn't explain anything to me, I was the best girlfriend he had ever had. He felt like he needed to propose to me right then and there but he knew I was going to move away and he didn't think he could ask me to stay just for him, plus he just wasn't ready for a serious commitment at the time...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;What a bunch of bullshit! First of all, I found out later that he actually started seeing someone else before he broke up with me and dated her for about 6 months afterwards. We never talked about me moving away and I actually told him that I wasn't ready to get married at the time when HE started talking about that possibility. WTF? Why did he feel the need to apologize now? He is married; I haven't seen him or talked to him in 3 years. It just bothers me that he is trying to come up with some lame excuses for his piggish behavior when it is way too late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Not sure where I was going with this. Just wanted to vent!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1862729242802541483?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1862729242802541483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1862729242802541483' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1862729242802541483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1862729242802541483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/11/wtf-my-ex-love-of-my-life.html' title='WTF? My Ex-Love of My Life'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3808791216497394424</id><published>2007-11-14T07:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T10:23:51.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF? My weird dates - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So the next story is about Brian. We met online a couple of years ago. Seemed to have a good conversation over email and I was excited to meet him. He kind of seemed too good to be true: smart, handsome, successful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So we went out for a drink... Within the first 15 minutes, Brian asked me if there was something I wanted to share with him that I usually don't share with people... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;... I wasn't sure what he was looking for here, so he said he'd go first... He told me he was a nudist... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Now, I consider myself pretty open-minded so I tried to hear him out (even though, I, all of a sudden, had these images of him running around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart naked, for some reason). He told me how he found out he liked being naked and I tried to use this as an educational experience for myself by asking questions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;All fine and dandy. Then we went to the movies but the shows were sold out so he suggested watching a movie at his place. Not the best thing to do on the first date but he seemed pretty safe so I agreed. As we are driving to his house he says, "Man! I can't wait to get home and get rid of all of these clothes!" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;... Excuse me? You are planning on doing that as soon as you get home? I told him that he couldn't do that while I was around. He proceeded to tell me how it was a very natural thing to do and was nothing sexual. I could totally be down with that had we been dating for a while and already checked out each other's private parts but... on the first date? No thanks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3808791216497394424?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3808791216497394424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3808791216497394424' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3808791216497394424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3808791216497394424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/11/wtf-my-weird-dates-part-2.html' title='WTF? My weird dates - Part 2'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3222986494170810903</id><published>2007-11-13T07:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T10:48:43.639-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weird'/><title type='text'>WTF? My weird dates - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Since my dating life is non-existent at the moment, I thought I'd entertain you with some stories from the past. I've had my share of dates - some good, some bad and some downright ugly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;So, the first one that comes to mind is my last date with Trent this past summer. I think I mentioned how Trent and I went to college together and went out on a date once back in 2000. I didn't want to go on a second date with him back then for some reason but couldn't remember why when he re-surfaced in my life a few months ago (thanks to the modern technology, aka &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I enjoyed talking to him via email so I figured I'd give him another shot and see what happens. We went out for a nice dinner and drinks, had a decent time and I invited him to come in for a bit when he walked me to my door. Well, one thing lead to another and we started making out... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;! He was the worst kisser ever! I can't even explain it, I just felt like I was kissing a 12-year old who had no idea what to do with his lips/tongue/teeth... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Grrrgh&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt; I think I know why our first date 7 years ago didn't lead anywhere... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;To make the matters worse though, he took our making out session to the next level: HE STARTED LICKING MY EYE LIDS!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;??? Is that sexy to anybody? Am I the only person who thinks that's creepy? All I kept thinking about was how I was going to wake up with an eye infection from all of that slobber!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;He was a pretty nice guy but I could never bring myself to go out with him again. Just didn't want to be subjected to all of that saliva all over my face. Sorry!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3222986494170810903?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3222986494170810903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3222986494170810903' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3222986494170810903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3222986494170810903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/11/wtf-my-weird-dates-part-1.html' title='WTF? My weird dates - Part 1'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6247214118172080055</id><published>2007-11-06T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T07:22:21.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a victim of my own stalking!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Is it possible? Damn right, it is!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;M. and I emailed back and forth for a while yesterday and I came to the conclusion that nothing was really going to come out of this. He just didn't seem that into me. I still wasn't ready to give up, however.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Well, today, feeling lonely and stalkerish, I decided to check and see if he still had a personals profile on yahoo where we originally met 2 years ago. Turns out... he does and he is very active on there. I know it's not a big deal but it actually hurt a lot. I was so into him that I couldn't even think about any other guys, so this just happened to be the last drop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;I am back to my realistic and cynical self. No more flying on cloud nine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6247214118172080055?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6247214118172080055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6247214118172080055' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6247214118172080055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6247214118172080055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-am-victim-of-my-own-stalking.html' title='I am a victim of my own stalking!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-7164362059132212023</id><published>2007-11-05T09:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T09:15:47.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Change... Grrrrgh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OMG! This whole time change screwed me up today! I got to work at 7am!!! Now I didn't forget about it. I changed all of the clocks yesterday but I always use my phone for an alarm and the time on there usually updates automatically, so I didn't even check. Well... it didn't, so I woke up at 5:45am instead of 6:45am! Such an idiot! Oh well, getting a lot of stuff done at work this morning.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As far as M. goes, I was feeling especially vulnerable yesterday (mostly due to PMS). I hadn't heard from M. in 3 days but what concerned me even more was the fact that his emails kept getting shorter and shorter last week and I kind of felt like I was forcing him to talk to me. So, against my better judgement, I decided to email him last night: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Well it didn't take you long to lose interest... slacker" Tried to keep it light, sort of...And he replied right back""hey im busy! you didn't write me either, my @$#&amp;amp;* queen (I can't disclose the whole nickname he has for me but it's sort of cutesy"Not exactly the answer I was hoping for but better than nothing. I guess not everything is lost yet. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So we emailed back and forth this morning for a while. He mentioned how he was going to surprise his family for Christmas because they all think he is not coming back till January. I was hoping he would mention something about coming to see me in December too but he never did. Well, I am not asking him about it but if he doesn't make any effort to see me by the end of they year, I am going to give up completely. For now, I still have a little bit of hope left.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-7164362059132212023?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/7164362059132212023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=7164362059132212023' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7164362059132212023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7164362059132212023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/11/time-change-grrrrgh.html' title='Time Change... Grrrrgh!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6926637247645997857</id><published>2007-11-02T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T13:30:47.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to keep busy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, I have decided to take the back seat on the whole long distance relationship with M. Whatever happens... happens. My problem is I am a problem solver by nature. I don't like to sit around and wait; I design the plan of attack and start acting. It's gotten me pretty far in the business world but unfortunately, has gotten me in trouble in my personal life quite a few times. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Every time I found someone I really wanted to be with, I somehow managed to screw up by being too pushy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As hard as it is for me, I am going to try not to do that this time... unless I get really drunk and start drunk-emailing ;-))&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sooooo, since I need to stay extremely busy in order to live up to the above promise, I am trying to come up with things to do this weekend (as luck would have it, I have absolutely no plans as of right now).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday night&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Get home from work&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Go to the gym&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clean up the apartment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Invite a couple of friends over to drink wine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sleep in&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Go to the gym&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Go to the mall with a friend&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come home and change clothes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Go to the Hockey game&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come home and get ready for a night on the town&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Go out with two favourite girls ever!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Be lazy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I think that's a good start, don't you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6926637247645997857?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6926637247645997857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6926637247645997857' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6926637247645997857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6926637247645997857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-need-to-keep-busy.html' title='I need to keep busy!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1640326949002163862</id><published>2007-11-01T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T09:49:28.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;This whole "being patient" thing sucks! I am working on it though ;-D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M. and I have been emailing back and forth. I am happy. He is doing fine. Luckily, his job in Iraq is not as dangerous as some others. Of course, that doesn't mean he is completely safe but it gives me some comfort!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have not really talked about whether and/or how we are going to see each other in December. I am dieing to bring that up but afraid to blow the whole thing by being to pushy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different note, I was messing around one of those sites that help you find classmates, old friends, etc and found this guy I went to school with (grades 1st-8th) whom I hadn't talked to in about 12 years. I sent him an email and he responded with, "Hi, my First Love". Whaaaaaat? I had no idea this guy ever had a crush on me. There were these two other boys in our class that competed for my attention but this one was always just a friend to me... Hmmmm... That felt strangely good to know that someone had a crush on me many years ago... and by the way, he sent me some pictures and he looks amazing. Never thought a skinny little boy could turn into such a good looking man ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1640326949002163862?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1640326949002163862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1640326949002163862' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1640326949002163862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1640326949002163862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/11/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1158938624379453140</id><published>2007-10-29T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T10:28:53.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am back with more love life drama than I can handle!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not sure if anyone reads this any more but I need to vent.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A lot of things happened in the last couple of months. The weekend before last changed my life though. I met someone really special... His name is Matt...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Matt and I met online 2 years ago when I moved to a new town, not knowing a soul. He lived about 45 mins away from here. We spent some time emailing back and forth; tried to meet up a couple of times but never could find the time that worked for both of us. Then I started dating someone and Matt moved away. We lost touch.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He emailed me a couple of months ago out of the blue. It turned out he was now in Iraq (He is an engineer for the Army) but he came back to the U.S. every month or so. We talked on the phone a few times and texted a lot whenever he was back in the country. He told me he was going to be about 3 hours away from where I live for about 2 weeks this month and offered to meet up.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I tried to talk him into coming to visit me but he was not allowed to go out of town because of his job so he said I should come visit instead. The whole thing seemed a little shady to me so I wasn't going to go. When the weekend came; however, I had absolutely no plans so I threw caution to the wind and drove for 3.5 hours to meet Matt. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was prepared to be disappointed. I figured we would go out for a drink and call it a night...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We clicked. I can't explain it. He is completely not the type I usually go for but it felt so natural! We ended up doing some bar hopping, drinking mojitos and playing some pool. When it was time to call it a night, we went back to the hotel where we were both staying in separate rooms, mind you :-) It turned out that the hotel was overbooked and I didn't have a room since I didn't check in earlier in the night... So we went to Matt's room (he promised to be a perfect gentleman) and watched some TV cuddling in a chair. The combination of the alcohol we consumed that night and knowing that it was our last chance to see each other for a long time did the trick... I know I sound really cheesy but the night was magical! That's all I am going to say about that. He had to work the next morning and I drove back home. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I figured that was the end of it. We had a great time but that was it. Well... he called me 15 minutes after I left and... we've been talking non-stop ever since liking each other more and more. Sounds magical, right? Not even! In fact, we are probably in for getting hurt. He went back to Iraq yesterday. He should be back for good in December but... he will be in North Carolina... not exactly driving distance. We both realize that the chances of anything happenning are very slim. I tried to pick a fight with Matt a couple of times secretly hoping that I would piss him off, he would stop talking to me and I would move on before getting hurt... He didn't let me do that. So... I am worried sick about him being in Iraq; waiting for a miracle and wanting to hug him so bad that it causes physical pain...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it stupid and unrealistic of me? Yes, but what if I miss out on something great just because I am scared? I guess part of me still believes in fairy tales...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stay tuned&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1158938624379453140?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1158938624379453140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1158938624379453140' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1158938624379453140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1158938624379453140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-am-back-with-more-love-life-drama.html' title='I am back with more love life drama than I can handle!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2128304737129303086</id><published>2007-08-10T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T10:54:56.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disclaimer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;I was told that I talked about myself too much on this blog...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Well, let me clarify something. I am not a writer, I don't claim to be a writer, in fact, English is not even my first language. So this blog's sole purpose is to serve as an outlet for my thoughts and events in my life. If someone wants to read it - fine, if not - I can't blame them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;What I am trying to say is: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;THIS BLOG IS ABOUT ME - DEAL WITH IT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2128304737129303086?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2128304737129303086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2128304737129303086' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2128304737129303086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2128304737129303086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/08/disclaimer.html' title='Disclaimer'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4739319947954217213</id><published>2007-08-10T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T09:37:51.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Well Soccer Stud was absolutely perfect for about 3 days after he came back. He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; me randomly to say "sweet dreams" and see how my day is going and even enjoyed chatting on the phone with me even though he usually hated talking on the phone in general. I was really impressed with the fact that he was trying...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;But his "goodness" only lasted for 3 days. I invited him over for dinner on Wed night; he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; me 2 hours later saying that he was having dinner with his roommate and he would call me after he was done eating. Not only did he blow off my invitation, did he call me later that night? Hell no!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Then last night he sent me a text asking about my day like nothing happened! I don't know... it might sound like I am picking on him for every little thing but this kind of behavior seems very disrespectful to me and wouldn't get him very far... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;He still has one very little chance with me (just because I still kind of like him and the sex is the best I've ever had) but he really needs to impress me with something right now. Otherwise, he is just not worth my time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4739319947954217213?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4739319947954217213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4739319947954217213' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4739319947954217213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4739319947954217213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/08/well-soccer-stud-was-absolutely-perfect.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1510808710300196418</id><published>2007-08-07T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T10:07:06.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange feeling</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Report on my Life:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Work&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Absolutely nuts. August is extremely busy. THe back problems set me back. I had to take a few days off work. Feeling much better but trying to make up for the lost time is a B*tch!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soccer Stud has been trying. He was out of town till yesterday but called and texted me a few times and didn't make any promises he couldn't keep. I was impressed! He came back last night and we went out for ice cream, then watched a movie and cuddled, then had some amazing sex, of course...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sounds lovely right? It was. I was excited to see him but I had this strange feeling like we were on the first date and it was kind of awkward at the beginning. The sex was still great but I couldn't help but feel strange about the evening in general...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it simply because we haven't seen each other in a while and had some communication issues? Will this change if we hang out a couple more times? Or does this mean that the attraction we once had was gone for good? Was I just so consumed with trying to make sure he was interested in me that I forgot to make sure I was interested?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1510808710300196418?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1510808710300196418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1510808710300196418' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1510808710300196418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1510808710300196418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/08/strange-feeling.html' title='Strange feeling'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2133337316597122670</id><published>2007-08-01T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T08:43:35.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crippled</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WOW! I have never noticed how much we move our bodies even when we are trying to be still. I have been in excruciating pain for the last 3 days. Finally went to the doctor yesterday. He thinks I have an inflamed disk in my lower back; gave me some medicine and some pain killers. However, the pain killers aren't working for me. It still hurts to sit, stand, walk and pretty much move. I am thinking about chasing the painkillers with a bottle of tequila to intensify the effect.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The real bummer is though is that I can't take any time off work because I am very behind on a lot of projects so I made it to the office and trying to tough it out. We'll see how long that lasts. You should have seen me trying to shave my legs this morning. Considering the fact that I can't bend at all, it was quite an experience :-))&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am going to go continue to feel sorry for myself. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Toodles&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh, forgot about the big news! Soccer Stud is back! Check out what he wrote:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Hey Girlie Monkey, I want to apologize about the calling thing and the email thing, I am terrible at calling and replying in a timely manner. It is something that I am trying to work on. I enjoy spending time with you as well and I would like to get to know you better, because I think you are great girl. I don't want you to think that sex is all I am interested in. It has just been very hectic time for me with me not having a cell phone, just finishing up with the season, camps, and traveling for my C License Course. I have also been trying to get a job because I don't have any steady income coming in at the moment. That is another reason I have been hesitant towards you and I want to apologize for that. I just recently got back from Oklahoma. I was there for the first week of my C License Course. I have to leave again this Wednesday. I don't know if you want anything to do with me any more, but I hope that is not the case. I hope to hear from you soon. "&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2133337316597122670?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2133337316597122670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2133337316597122670' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2133337316597122670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2133337316597122670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/08/crippled.html' title='Crippled'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1947265824979457852</id><published>2007-07-31T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T08:35:26.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kind of like Alice in Wonderland</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;It's been an interesting week... Update on my boys:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Soccer Stud:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Still MIA. I am having a hard time believing that he would just ignore my message. Not his style plus it doesn't look like he has checked his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; since I messaged him. As far as I am concerned he might be dead... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Bond:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;We've been flirting via phone and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; for a few weeks now, hung out in a group of friends a few times but it was all coming down to last Fri night. I was supposed to go out with my good friend George and meet up with Bond and some other friends at a certain Bar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;That night I definitely felt like Alice in Wonderland. ..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;First of all, George stood me up! He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; me and told me he was going to be a little late (10 instead of 9:30). I was already on my way so I stopped by a friend's house so he could keep me company while I waited. Then George called and said he was coming over in a minute. That was the last time I heard from him that night... But that's no big deal compared to the rest of the evening...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sooo&lt;/span&gt;, we picked up Bond, his brother and D-D (a girl we all know) and finally went to the Bar. First, Bond seemed kind of upset, told me that he had a rough day because he received some bad news from home. Then... he got all lovey-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dovey&lt;/span&gt; with D-D. At first I thought it was friendly but it was getting more and more graphic, so I was doing my best trying not to look and keep smiling and making conversation with the other guys. I have to give it to Bond's brother and our f&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;riend&lt;/span&gt; S., they did all they could to distract me! Love them for that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Then... Bond had the nerve to come over and tell me (after some simple conversation) that he was looking for a girl who would give him an instant rush of adrenalin, that instant attraction when he first met her but it's hard to find. It only happened to him when he met me... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;? All I could say was "whatever". Then he started saying something about how he wasn't sure I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;interested&lt;/span&gt; though... Not sure what I was supposed to do there... Jump on him and profess my undying love to him??? I just turned away and went to get a drink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Him and D-D were all over each other the rest of the night... I thought 1am would never come around. Stupid me left the car at S's place so I couldn't leave plus I didn't want to show that I cared even though it was hard. I had no idea how to act. I thought I was doing pretty good until Bond's brother tried to apologize for Bond's behavior...Then... after throwing some people into the fountain (that's a separate story) we finally went back to S's place and I tried to go home but they wouldn't let me leave. I had to sit there and talk for a while. Talk about uncomfortable! Bond had the nerve to start asking me why I seemed upset! Bond was the one who said I kind of looked like Alice in Wonderland and that was right on! That's exactly how i felt, plus I was wearing a red dress :-)) I finally got out of there fuming! I should have fucking stayed in bed that night!!! Why in the hell would Bond act like he is pursuing me, then get friendly with another girl right in front of me?! Was he trying to make me jealous? Is he just an idiot or a jerk?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;On a different note, I have been in horrible pain for the last 3 days. My lower back hurts so bad that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt; can't sit down, walk or bend over. I am miserable and feeling sorry for myself. Going to the doctor this afternoon. Hopefully, it's not kidney stones... Cross some fingers and toes for me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1947265824979457852?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1947265824979457852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1947265824979457852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1947265824979457852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1947265824979457852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/07/kind-of-like-alice-in-wonderland.html' title='Kind of like Alice in Wonderland'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3526683112251547837</id><published>2007-07-24T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T09:00:08.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Still nothing from SS. I was freaking out the whole day yesterday but then... let's just say there is a new interesting boy on the horizon (let's call him Bond)... I spent 3 hours talking to him on the phone last night... I don't even remember the last time I did that with a boy. It just felt so natural! The time flew by!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Sooo, if SS doesn't come through... I have options...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3526683112251547837?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3526683112251547837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3526683112251547837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3526683112251547837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3526683112251547837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/07/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3870804108420304857</id><published>2007-07-23T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T10:35:16.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rollercoasting through vacation week</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I am back after my well-deserved vacation week. It was interesting. First of all, I managed to catch a flu, so spent 4 days of my vacation on the couch watching bad day-time tv. The rest of the week went well: visited some friends, ate some good food, had a few drinks and did a little partying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;As far as Soccer Stud goes, it has been an emotional rollercoaster for me. I worked on training him the whole week by not answering his phone calls after he'd disappeared for a few days. It seemed to do the trick, he always got nervous and started calling me more but once we got together and hung out he was back to his ways. Case in point: He came back from a bad game out of town on Saturday night, came straight to my house, was sweet and attentive, watched some tv, talked, etc. He asked me what my plans were for the next day and I told him I was going to the pool and possibly a baseball game. He said he wanted to join me and asked me to call him when I wake up. I called - no answer; texted him around 3pm and told him I was going to the pool and the game at 6pm. He called me back at 9:30pm saying that he just got my text!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Anyhow, I had enough. I sent him a message a little while ago telling him that if he is actually interested in dating me he should start putting some effort in and if he is just interested in sex - it's not my thing. "No hard feelings, see you around." Anxiously waiting for a response now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I know, I know, I should have dumped his ass a long time ago but I still kind of like the guy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3870804108420304857?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3870804108420304857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3870804108420304857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3870804108420304857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3870804108420304857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/07/rollercoasting-through-vacation-week.html' title='Rollercoasting through vacation week'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4968743311217436561</id><published>2007-07-12T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T14:33:33.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is good!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I think I figured out what was wrong with me yesterday:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;1. PMS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;2. Not hearing from SS for a couple of days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;So, I came up with an action plan for making my day better:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;1. 1 hour-long nap after work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;2. going out for salsa dancing with my best friend D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I was already starting to feel good on the way to the night club when SS called. We talked for a few minutes, I stopped freaking out about him. The smile came back. Then we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; back and forth throughout the night deciding on meeting up after I got done with dancing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;A little something-something totally did the trick! Crisis averted! Who cares if I stayed up till 5am and went to work at 7:30am. Totally worth it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Oh, yeah... 1.5 work days till vacation! Woo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I obviously can't think of anything interesting to write about, so I should go get some work done...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4968743311217436561?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4968743311217436561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4968743311217436561' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4968743311217436561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4968743311217436561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/07/life-is-good.html' title='Life is good!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-8674821777203785442</id><published>2007-07-11T10:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T13:16:00.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unusually Crappy Day - is it going to get better from here?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Yes, I am having a blah day... I should have stayed home... I realize that nobody really cares but I really need to vent at the moment. Not that anything major happened, just a lot of little frustrating things...Here's a list of my misfortunes so far (and I've only been awake for about 5 hours, for the record):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Broke my favorite mug this morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Stepped on a piece of the mug with my bare foot, got a nice deep cut and lots of blood around the kitchen floor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Forgot my to-go coffee that I made for myself this morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Got to work and realized that I left my cell phone at home. I really need several phone #s that are saved on there plus I am waiting on an important phone call today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Found out that the urgent order for some signage that I placed for my account in Chicago accidentally got shipped to Wisconsin. Not my fault but my boss doesn't exactly care why it happened...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I need to scan something really quick but my scanner keeps saying that I don't have the needed software installed; then I go to install it and it's there but the scanner is still not working!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I keep trying to tie some loose ends at work before I go on vacation next week but the load keeps getting bigger!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;On top of that I could not fall asleep till 3am for some unknown reason so I am tired and cranky!!! Grrrrgh! Is it appropriate to drink at work at 1pm?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-8674821777203785442?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/8674821777203785442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=8674821777203785442' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8674821777203785442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8674821777203785442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/07/unusually-crappy-day-is-it-going-to-get.html' title='Unusually Crappy Day - is it going to get better from here?'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-8933057506139249861</id><published>2007-07-10T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T09:38:49.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Why am I not able to title my posts any more? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Grrrrgh&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Here we go. Title: Dating Rules&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I believe I've blogged about how I have no clue about dating in general. That's true, folks, I am 27 y. o., have had my share of dates, boyfriends, random drunken make-out buddies, etc but the truth is... I still don't know what's appropriate and what's not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Here's what I am good at:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Getting a guy's attention (a lot of times it's unwanted)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Making an awesome first impression&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Making the 1st date an unforgettable experience&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Getting a 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; date (I don't believe I've ever been denied a 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; date)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;That's about it... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Here's where the problems start...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Things I suck at:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Knowing how often a guy should call during the "dating stage"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Knowing when to play "hard to get" and when to show interest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Knowing when having sex is too soon and saying "no"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Communicating my feelings without freaking the guy out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Knowing when it is time to introduce him to the friends/family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I can go on and on...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Basically, I start out being very confident (as I am in all other aspects of life) but once I realize I like the guy, I become an insecure, moping girl that I despise. I freak out if he doesn't call for a day or if he is acting moody. I try to act cool but still panicking on the inside. I know it all comes from my unfortunate past experiences and it hurts my current relationships but not sure how to overcome this. I need some serious help ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-8933057506139249861?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/8933057506139249861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=8933057506139249861' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8933057506139249861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8933057506139249861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/07/why-am-i-not-able-to-title-my-posts-any.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2201079906709574926</id><published>2007-07-09T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T13:15:05.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Hello my faithful readers (actually, I think I am down to one ;-). Here's an update on my life for you:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Work: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Getting a little better after an intense 3-week long "marathon". Just need to survive this week and I am on vacation for 9 days! Woo hoo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Love life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I am still dating Soccer Stud. He was kind of pissing me off last week because he wasn't making much of an effort to see me, even though he occasionally emailed and called. We were supposed to go out for ice cream and hit the hot tub at my place on a Friday night. He called me around 8:30pm that night and started the conversation by saying, "I was going to come see you but..." You should have seen my face... I was about to tell him everything I thought about his behavior that week... then he continued, "C's (C is his friend and business partner) Dad is in town so we are going out for dinner and would like you to join us..." Me: "Oh...ok". He had no idea how close he was to having his head beaten off ;-) Anyhow, I kind of felt like I met "the family" because we ended up having dinner with two of SS's freinds and business partners along with C's Dad. It was great!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Then on Saturday they had the last home game of the season, so I gathered up some friends and went to cheer them on. SS's team won, so we were off to a bar to celebrate. SS was super attentive the whole night making me forget about all of my worries about him. I took him home with me. We had the best sex ever and went to sleep. Then... I had the best Sunday morning ever! We drank coffee, ate breakfast, read the paper and watched tv together for 2-3 hours. I haven't had this with anyone in a while...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Things that SS did and said that made me melt:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Looked at me like I was the only person around while we were at the bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Introduced me to all of his friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Held me the whole time we were sleeping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Gave me lite kisses on the cheek, forehead and arm every time I came back to bed after getting up to go to the bathroom (yes, too much beer makes me pee!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Told me about a Brazilian restaurant he wanted to take me to which I secretly have been wanting to go to for a couple of months (he had no idea)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I can go on but I'd stop for now so I don't get carried away. Needless to say, I have a crush! I like that we are taking it slow and not labeling our relationship in any way. Been there, done that... didn't end well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Back to work for now! So long!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2201079906709574926?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2201079906709574926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2201079906709574926' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2201079906709574926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2201079906709574926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/07/hello-my-faithful-readers-actually-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4761210379440793255</id><published>2007-06-28T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T07:28:08.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;I have a huge grin on my face this morning despite all of my work problems... Wonder why? Because Soccer Stud is absolutely amazing! More details to come soon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4761210379440793255?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4761210379440793255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4761210379440793255' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4761210379440793255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4761210379440793255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-have-huge-grin-on-my-face-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-426499011713962182</id><published>2007-06-27T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T07:56:00.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beads, Beer and Soccer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;This weekend is going to be a "do or die" kind of weekend at work. I am flying out to Chicago again to open a new account that I've been working on. I've been so stressed out about it that I decided to do something to relax on Monday night... Soccer Stud suggested that my friend D. and I come over to his house to play some pool and have some cocktails. That sounded like what the doctor ordered so we went. Had a blast hanging out with SS and one of his roommates. Then we decided to go to this Cajun bar/restaurant to meet up with some other soccer guys. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Well... that's where it got out of hand. I was having so much fun that I didn't notice that i drank some 15 gallons of beer within a couple of hours... I am not even a beer drinker, dammit!!! So, I barely remembered the end of the night. My friend D. told me the next morning that we were never going back to that place because I kissed the bouncer on the way out. What??? I think my mind blocked that out. Apparently, he handed us some beads when we were walking out and said that meant we had to come back and I just reached out and kissed him on the cheek. WTF? I don't know what I was thinking. I do remember kissing SS at the end of the night and it was goooood! Really looking forward to some more making out with him!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Any how, of course, I had to work the next morning and boy was it a rough day!!! Never again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-426499011713962182?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/426499011713962182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=426499011713962182' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/426499011713962182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/426499011713962182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/06/this-weekend-is-going-to-be-do-or-die.html' title='Beads, Beer and Soccer'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-803065833303558911</id><published>2007-06-25T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:34.522-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God for my Stalking Skills and What keeps me Going these Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rn_XQ9qsEDI/AAAAAAAAADA/L68odCUh7-k/s1600-h/soccer+ball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080015591128698930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rn_XQ9qsEDI/AAAAAAAAADA/L68odCUh7-k/s320/soccer+ball.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I know, I know... I've been MIA. The last 2 weeks proved to be the most stressful weeks of my life. My business trips to both Minnesota and Chicago were horrifying because I didn't know what I was doing, had to act like I did and had to figure out how to get things done with no guidance from anyone. I am not a quitter but I was seriously close to crying and throwing in the towel a couple of times. Failure is not an option for me though, so I am going to keep on plugging along!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As for the more pleasant news, there is a new boy on the horizon... We'll call him the Soccer Stud and yes, our romance started out with me stalking him... sort of...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I noticed one of my friends on Facebook added Soccer Stud as his friend. Soccer Stud had an unusual name that made me wonder if he was from a certain European country, plus he graduated from the same University I did, in the same year and I didn't know him!!! Naturally, I had to find out more, so I sent him a message and we started talking. Oh, and did I mention that he now lives in the same town as me? What a coincidence. Any how, we both have some hectic schedules, so we just talked via Facebook for the last 3 weeks or so, and finally decided to meet up this last weekend. He had a soccer game on Saturday and I was going to go watch it (mainly to figure out what he looks like in person since I'd only seen pictures). A couple of my friends were going to go with me but bailed out at the last minute, so I went by myself. Felt kind of weird, couldn't get a good look, so I left sort of unsure of what to expect...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So last night we decided to meet up and grab something to eat. One of Soccer Stud's friends was going to come with us (I think Soccer Stud was afraid I was a stalker ;-)). We headed for one of the local Breweries. Gotta tell you, I had way more fun than I expected! The Soccer Stud was much better looking than I expected and a lot of fun, and so was his friend. We ate, talked, drank, laughed non-stop. As soon as I got home from the dinner, Soccer Stud (SS) called me and asked if he could make a reservation to come hang out at the hot tub in my apartment complex the next night... I sort of mentioned the pool and the hot tub at the dinner... Can't wait to see that soccer bod upclose! Guess I should sneak out of work early and do some sit ups myself, so I can look good in a bikini!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Missed you all. I will be blog-walking in a minute!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-803065833303558911?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/803065833303558911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=803065833303558911' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/803065833303558911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/803065833303558911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/06/thank-god-for-my-stalking-skills-and.html' title='Thank God for my Stalking Skills and What keeps me Going these Days'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rn_XQ9qsEDI/AAAAAAAAADA/L68odCUh7-k/s72-c/soccer+ball.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-8762706368616554198</id><published>2007-06-08T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T12:52:04.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Master Card Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Working 15 hours a day to get ready for a trip to Minneapolis - FRUSTRATING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Working 15 hours a day Mon-Fri in Minneapolis next week - TIRING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Coming home on Fri night and working the whole weekend to get ready for a trip to Chicago - EVEN MORE TIRING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Not getting paid anything extra for it - EVEN MORE FRUSTRATING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;A chance to be in my position at 27 and an opportunity to learn and advance - PRICELESS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Not sure how much time I am going to have for blogging in the next couple of weeks but I'll try to swing by whenever possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-8762706368616554198?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/8762706368616554198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=8762706368616554198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8762706368616554198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8762706368616554198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/06/another-master-card-moment.html' title='Another Master Card Moment'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2159521818754087834</id><published>2007-06-06T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T13:55:48.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I got dumped by my long-term Friend with Benefits because "I didn't make him feel like he was the only one..." What? Isn't that the whole point of being friends with benefits???  And it's not like he has any feelings for me, I think I just hurt his ego... Whatever! Time to find a replacement :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2159521818754087834?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2159521818754087834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2159521818754087834' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2159521818754087834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2159521818754087834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/06/wtf.html' title='WTF?'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3148728954922371083</id><published>2007-06-04T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:34.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monkey swimming at the Moonshine beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RmQxtoyu1AI/AAAAAAAAAC4/cLUIYQ9aBRc/s1600-h/moonshinebeach_sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072233740440097794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="177" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RmQxtoyu1AI/AAAAAAAAAC4/cLUIYQ9aBRc/s320/moonshinebeach_sm.jpg" width="239" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;My dear readers, I neglected to inform you that yours truly became a year older last Saturday. Late birthday wishes, presents and flowers are accepted... ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;In all seriousness, I think I had the best birthday ever! My friends planned a beach party at a nearby lake (about 45 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; away) for me followed by a night on the town. My Sis came down to join the festivities. However, the good ole' weather almost ruined our plans as we woke up to the sounds of a really strong storm on Sat. morning. Since we had no back up plan and had a bunch of food ready to be grilled, we were determined to make the party happen. After checking the weather map we decided to go ahead and go any way since the lake area didn't look like it was going to get hit by the rain too hard. I am so glad we did. The day couldn't be more perfect. We grilled, ate, swam, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;goofed&lt;/span&gt; around, laughed a lot, drank, etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;After a quick nap upon returning home, it was time for some more festivities. We met up with a bunch of friends downtown, did some more eating, talking, drinking and dancing and continued doing that till 4am at a friend's house...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Needless to say, yesterday was a day of rest (aka laying on the couch, nursing a hangover) but it was totally worth it! I can't remember the last time I had so much fun on my birthday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3148728954922371083?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3148728954922371083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3148728954922371083' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3148728954922371083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3148728954922371083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/06/monkey-swimming-at-moonshine-beach.html' title='Monkey swimming at the Moonshine beach'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RmQxtoyu1AI/AAAAAAAAAC4/cLUIYQ9aBRc/s72-c/moonshinebeach_sm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-8451255626253481391</id><published>2007-05-31T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T10:06:50.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cultural or Personal Differences?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;I am finally back again. I was in Illinois attending a friend's wedding and visiting my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bestest&lt;/span&gt; Friend in the WHOLE World (Gayle). I spent the night at my sister's on the way up there and on the way back in order to break up the trip and hang out with Sis, her hubby and niece. Sis was ready to party when I got to her house on Sunday on my way home but I was so exhausted from staying up late, drinking and waking up early for 3 nights in a row that i could barely keep my eyes open. I managed to stay "fun to be around" but I started getting more and more tired and Sis got more and more tipsy. I love her a lot and get along with her better than anyone else I know (I think I mentioned before that she is my sister by choice, not by blood. If not, leave me a comment and I'll revisit that story) but she can really say some crazy things when she drinks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Our conversation kept going back to the time I spent at Gayle's house for a few days and Sis blurted out that she would never go back to Gayle's house with me after the last time I took her up there with me last year... That puzzled me a little bit as well as offended me in a way. She continued to explain how she thinks my friend Gayle is a wonderful person but has no clue about hospitality the way we understand it. She didn't offer us breakfast the last time we were at her house at all. I told Sasha that this statement was a little offensive to me because Gayle is my good friend but she is right... No matter how tired, busy and/or hungover Sis and I may be, we would always make sure our guests are properly fed and taken care of. Gayle has two little kids to chase around and she just doesn't eat much herself, so it is never a priority for her. I realize that and I let that go because she is so wonderful in all other aspects but I do wonder if it really is a cultural thing or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;In my culture, if a person comes to your house, even for 5 minutes, you offer him/her everything you have to eat and/or drink; if he/she is staying at your house overnight, the guest always gets the best sleeping &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accommodations&lt;/span&gt; even if it means you sleeping on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;the kitchen&lt;/span&gt; floor. That's how I grew up, that's what I live by...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Not sure if I made any sense. Just rambling...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-8451255626253481391?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/8451255626253481391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=8451255626253481391' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8451255626253481391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8451255626253481391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/cultural-or-personal-differences.html' title='Cultural or Personal Differences?'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-5400672337387757733</id><published>2007-05-23T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T07:59:44.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Equal Opportunity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I was sitting around drinking some wine while my clothes were in the dryer last night and reflecting on my dating life. Then it hit me - I've dated a very diverse group of guys. Let me do a quick recap for you (some of these may have been one-daters and others - long-term).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I've dates guys from the following countries:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Russia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Venezuela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Mexico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Zimbabwe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Turkey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Canada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;One of the small countries in the middle east (can;t remember which)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Germany, and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;USA &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I've dated:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Olympic Swimmer (medalist)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Pro-football player&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Funeral Home Director&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Cowboy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Male Stripper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Head coach of a College Football Team&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Arabic Prince (the real prince, no joke)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;NBA Player (ok, he wasn't one at the time but went on to become one 2 months after we broke up)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Chef&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;School Prinicipal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Wow! I've been busy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Things all of them had in common:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;They were all at least 6' tall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;None of them smoked (which is ironic because I do)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-5400672337387757733?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/5400672337387757733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=5400672337387757733' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5400672337387757733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5400672337387757733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/equal-opportunity.html' title='Equal Opportunity'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-7440681343451017238</id><published>2007-05-22T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T09:08:18.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to shower: Men vs. Women</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="'http://www.glumbert.com/embed/shower'" width="'448'" height="'336'" type="'application/x-shockwave-flash'" wmode="'transparent'"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.glumbert.com/media/shower"&gt;http://www.glumbert.com/media/shower&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-7440681343451017238?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/7440681343451017238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=7440681343451017238' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7440681343451017238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7440681343451017238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-to-shower-men-vs-women.html' title='How to shower: Men vs. Women'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-5996165288373850501</id><published>2007-05-21T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T12:24:14.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another "Trent Update"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;So... I sent him a message:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Me: "So you are f*cking sick of females???"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;He replied: "Yeah, that was in response to my buddy Scott's recent issues with his girlfriend....long story short is she cheated on him and ended up pregnant...with a guy that she had only just met and doesn't even know his last name!!!! Sorry sweetie...it wasn't a blast at you...you are my sweetie...not just a "female" ;) muah"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Then he changed his status to: "Trent is glad he's sweethearts with Girlie Monkey"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I am laughing my ass off! How do I find these wackos???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-5996165288373850501?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/5996165288373850501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=5996165288373850501' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5996165288373850501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5996165288373850501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/another-trent-update.html' title='Another &quot;Trent Update&quot;'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-7809931653441131201</id><published>2007-05-21T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T07:26:48.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Male Harem +  An Update on Trent</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I managed to piss off 4 guys yesterday without even leaving the house! That takes a special talent, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hehe&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guy #1 - N.:&lt;/strong&gt; N. and I have been very good friends for the last 6 months or so. When we first met, he tried to take it to the next level. I was drunk one night and we ended up making out but I made it clear afterwards that it was a mistake and we remained friends. Well, we both went out on Saturday with some friends and he wouldn't stop talking about how I had this special glow and looked even more beautiful than usual... I think it had something to do with my new red dress ;-) Anyhow, we stopped by his house after the bars to pick some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;CDs&lt;/span&gt; and take them to a party. I had to pee so I used his bathroom while he was getting the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CDs&lt;/span&gt;. I got out of the bathroom to find him waiting for me in the dark for a juicy kiss. I was so caught off guard that I didn't even react right away. I just turned around and sort of ran out of the house, then pretended it never happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We were talking about going to the pool the next day but I was too tired and hungover to mess with trying to look pretty at the pool, so I just told him we should go some other time. He continued to text me suggesting that we should hangout in the evening, drink some wine, watch a movie, etc since he was leaving for the whole summer on Monday. I said it wasn't a good idea. A couple of hours later, he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; me again asking what time he could stop by to say "bye". I got pissed and sent him a rude message (something like: "like I told you, it's not a good idea"...). He was pissed. I finally apologized and said I wasn't in a good mood and he caught me at the wrong time. We are back to being friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guy #2 - G.:&lt;/strong&gt; G. is a friend of mine as well. We always make flirty comments to each other but it's always been just a joke to me. Well, it turned out that he was hoping it was more serious than that. He tried to confess his feeling to me at that same party on Saturday but I escaped. However, I promised to see him at this bar where a bunch of our friends go to on a Sun. afternoon. I didn't show up... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guy #3 - S.:&lt;/strong&gt; Almost the same story as the one about G.  S. is someone I know through friends. We hung out in the same group of people a couple of times. I saw him on Thurs. night and mentioned that I was probably going to see him on Sun. I didn't show up...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guy #4 - Trent:&lt;/strong&gt; I mentioned before how I invited Trent to go to an amusement park this Sat. and he said he was going to think about it and let me know on Thurs. I never heard from him on Thurs but here's our communication on Fri via &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; messaging:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trent:&lt;/strong&gt; I will be heading up to Iowa to visit my Uncle and cousins who are in town over the weekend. This was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;kind of&lt;/span&gt; a last minute thing (last night actually) and I was planning on coming down on Sat, but my cousin Charlie is leaving for army basic training in a few days. Let's work on meeting up through the week sometime....I mean I usually only stay one night anyway..and you have to work every morning after. I really miss you. Call me if you want, I have a 3 hour &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;road trip&lt;/span&gt; ahead of me, it would be nice to hear your voice.Trent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Hey. Well, I figured you weren't coming since I didn't hear from you yesterday. It's kind of a bummer, because I am leaving for Illinois on Wed. night, will be gone for a week but that's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;alright&lt;/span&gt;.  Are you still going to NJ in June?I'll try to call you this afternoon if I get a chance. Today is graduation so it's a little crazy. If not, call me some time this weekend. GM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I didn't have time to call him on Fri afternoon, then I figured he was busy with family and would call me when he had time. He never did. Then, last night he changed his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; status to: "Trent is f*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;cking&lt;/span&gt; sick of females"... I am guessing it had something to do with me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;There you have it! None of this breaks my heart really. I think it's really kind of humorous. I am glad that N. and I are back to normal because I really value his friendship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-7809931653441131201?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/7809931653441131201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=7809931653441131201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7809931653441131201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7809931653441131201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/male-harem-update-on-trent.html' title='Male Harem +  An Update on Trent'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-657247124166475947</id><published>2007-05-18T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T11:09:57.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(NOT SO) SIMPLE MATH</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;DRINKING + DANCING TILL 3 AM = BAD MORNING + NO SHOWER + TOUGH PRESENTATION AT 8AM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;CHANCE TO SEE ALMOST ALL OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS IN ONE PLACE LAST NIGHT - PRICELESS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;P.S. LUCKILY THE PRESENTATION WAS WEB-BASED...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-657247124166475947?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/657247124166475947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=657247124166475947' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/657247124166475947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/657247124166475947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/not-so-simple-math.html' title='(NOT SO) SIMPLE MATH'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6697472964580364193</id><published>2007-05-16T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T10:19:04.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My kind of party!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I took last Friday morning off and drove to a Lake Resort an 1.5 hours away to meet up with my sis and her hubby on a Thur. night. He was there on business and she just tagged along to enjoy the luxuries, so, naturally, I couldn't miss out on that opportunity. We had a nice dinner, went to some fancy reception, then to a party at one of the suites where we were the only two women among 40 men. Let me tell ya - my kind of party. It doesn't matter whether the men are attractive or not or eligible or not. Just the amount of attention directed at us made it really fun for us. Of course, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sis's&lt;/span&gt; hubby had to spoil the fun and herd us back into the room when he saw the guys at the party watching porn (we were sitting on the deck, missing out on that). Well, we put him to bed and kept the party going on our own deck. Sipped on margaritas and gossipped till 3am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;My sis and I have this amazing ability to never get tired of one another. (I wish I could find that in a guy...). We can spend the whole weekend sitting around and talking and never running out of things to say...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Here's a part of our conversation about Trent:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Sis: When is Trent coming to visit you next? Oh, I wish I could meet him! He sounds like a real keeper!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Me: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mmmm&lt;/span&gt; Yeah... He is supposed to come tomorrow night...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Sis: What? He is getting a pink slip already?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Me: I didn't say that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Sis: I know that look though. You are thinking about it, aren't you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Me: I don't know. I am trying to convince myself to give him more time. I have no good reason to break up with him, he is a great guy, a perfect candidate for a serious boyfriend...yet, this whole thing feels very forced and uncomfortable to me. I find myself thinking that I'd rather spend tomorrow night alone with a good book... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Needless to say, Sis and I finished a bottle of tequila, had at least 4-5 margaritas at the reception and a couple of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mojitos&lt;/span&gt; at the party... I had to drive for an hour and half in the morning to get to work by Noon.... Friday was rough... I called Trent and told him that he shouldn't come because I just wanted to go to bed as soon as I came home from work... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;He said he understood but I could tell he was pissed! He hasn't called me much in the last few days and I just emailed him to see if he wanted to come this weekend. I told him we could go to an amusement park on Saturday, so he could come in the morning, leave in the evening and not worry about staying at the hotel. He told me that he didn't want to pay for the hotel any more and perhaps I could let him stay on my couch... I know he wouldn't do anything bad but I am still uncomfortable with this invasion of my privacy, so I suggested this day-long scenario... We'll see what he thinks about it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6697472964580364193?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6697472964580364193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6697472964580364193' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6697472964580364193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6697472964580364193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-kind-of-party.html' title='My kind of party!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3889530781143469627</id><published>2007-05-15T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:35.929-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Restaurant Meme - way overdue!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chrissy tagged me with this meme a long time ago and I am finally getting around to it! By the way, someone else tagged me and I can't remember who. I apologize. I checked around the blogs that I read but couldn't find it today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The rules:&lt;br /&gt;1. Add a direct link to your post below the name of the person who tagged you. Include the state and country you’re in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Nicole" href="http://chroniclesofnicole.blogspot.com/2007/03/who-else-knows-food-better-than-locals.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Nicole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; (Sydney, Australia)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.velverse.com/?p=545"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Velverse&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kuala&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Lumpur&lt;/span&gt;, Malaysia)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://albiewong.com/index.php/?p=442"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;LB &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(San Giovanni in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Marignano&lt;/span&gt;, Italy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.selba.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Selba&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(Jakarta, Indonesia)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://artmeliana.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Olivia &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(London, England)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://zeesspace.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ML &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(Utah, USA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jellyjules.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;J &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(California, USA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.curiositykiller.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Curiosity Killer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;SAR&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://lifeonmanitoulin.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chrissy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (Manitoulin Island, Ontario, Canada)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Girlie Monkey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Missouri, USA) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. List out your top 5 favorite places to eat at your location. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;#1 - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://harunosushi.com/index.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Haruno&lt;/span&gt; - Japanese Sushi Bar and Grill &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknsqUnAJWI/AAAAAAAAABw/0QPSR2N4R54/s1600-h/bar3.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064839467785790818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknsqUnAJWI/AAAAAAAAABw/0QPSR2N4R54/s320/bar3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Haruno&lt;/span&gt; features a fine assortment of local seafood presented by a Japanese chef who is aware of both the heritage of service and the dynamics of introducing this food to many who have not yet sampled it. For those who want to break into this cuisine slowly, they also offer the finest noodles, tempura, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;bentto&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknylUnAJcI/AAAAAAAAACg/5PpCqz3XTTU/s1600-h/haruno2.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064845978956211650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="207" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknylUnAJcI/AAAAAAAAACg/5PpCqz3XTTU/s320/haruno2.jpg" width="196" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;If you ever get a chance to visit, try the Miami Roll - I dream about it about once a week ever since I tried it. Yum! The atmosphere is very welcoming, yet cosmopolitan and prices are very reasonable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;#2 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trolleysgrill.com/springfield/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Trolley's Downtown Bar and Grille&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknvnUnAJYI/AAAAAAAAACA/1__DPG0Jnb0/s1600-h/trolley"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064842714781066626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="141" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknvnUnAJYI/AAAAAAAAACA/1__DPG0Jnb0/s320/trolley%27s+logo.jpg" width="217" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Trolley's is located right on the square in the middle of all the downtown action. It is by far, our (mine and my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;girls&lt;/span&gt;) favorite weekend hang out. The atmosphere, crowd and menu are great, prices are reasonable. My favorite Grey Goose Dirty Martinis are $8.00 a piece but I only order them when someone else is planning on paying for my drinks (i. e. my friend's admirer who is a son of some oil magnate from Saudi Arabia. He has more money than he can spend so we don't mind helping him out once in a while ;-) Other menu favorites are: Sweet Potato Fries, Mediterranean Tuna Salad, Black and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Bleu&lt;/span&gt; Burger and many more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rknvw0nAJZI/AAAAAAAAACI/TFUbCla1g28/s1600-h/trolley"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064842877989823890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rknvw0nAJZI/AAAAAAAAACI/TFUbCla1g28/s320/trolley%27s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The restaurant is owned by four locals. One of them is Aaron who was nominated for and selected as "The Bachelor" on ABC a couple of years ago. Assuming you were one of the thirty million viewers of that season’s "The Bachelor", you got a sneak peak of Aaron holding a saw in his hand while finishing up the construction of the restaurant.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;#3 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bijans.com/Index.asp"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Bijan's&lt;/span&gt; Sea &amp; Grille&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknxxUnAJbI/AAAAAAAAACY/y1g7AJUW1EY/s1600-h/Bijans%20logo.gif"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064845085603014066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknxxUnAJbI/AAAAAAAAACY/y1g7AJUW1EY/s320/Bijans%2520logo.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknxhknAJaI/AAAAAAAAACQ/B2gP3LaUmuQ/s1600-h/Filet-bijans.gif"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064844815020074402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="275" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknxhknAJaI/AAAAAAAAACQ/B2gP3LaUmuQ/s320/Filet-bijans.gif" width="187" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One of the best restaurants in town. Simply chic and delicious! Pricey but totally worth it!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;#4 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://springfieldbrewingco.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Springfield Brewing Company (commonly known as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;BrewCo&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rkn0pUnAJdI/AAAAAAAAACo/NIsFwt2i7xs/s1600-h/brewco.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064848246698943954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="163" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rkn0pUnAJdI/AAAAAAAAACo/NIsFwt2i7xs/s320/brewco.jpg" width="228" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;BrewCo&lt;/span&gt; is one of the few breweries in the world built, operated and owned by a brewery equipment fabrication company. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://muel.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Paul Mueller Company&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; began laying the ground work for Springfield Brewing Company in the fall of 1996 for the purposes of brewery equipment research and development. Anxious to share with the public the wide assortment of fresh, high-quality beers brew in name of innovation, Paul Mueller Company established this restaurant and pub. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rkn1YknAJeI/AAAAAAAAACw/6UoS62IUXp4/s1600-h/splogo1.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Rkn1YknAJeI/AAAAAAAAACw/6UoS62IUXp4/s1600-h/splogo1.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Simply put: great fresh beer, lots of space (including an outdoor deck), best salsa I've ever had and great location! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;#5 Great Wall Buffet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yep! You heard me! When I moved to this town 2 years ago, I spent months on trying different Chinese restaurants in order to find the best one. I finally stumbled upon Great Wall and it was love at first sight (or sniff, I should say). The food is fresh and delicious. No wonder, it is packed at any time of the day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*All photos and some general info are from the restaurants' websites.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3889530781143469627?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3889530781143469627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3889530781143469627' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3889530781143469627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3889530781143469627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/restaurant-meme-way-overdue.html' title='Restaurant Meme - way overdue!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RknsqUnAJWI/AAAAAAAAABw/0QPSR2N4R54/s72-c/bar3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1411603656615097149</id><published>2007-05-10T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T07:24:18.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too tall to date? PPPPalease!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I am feeling very productive at work today, that is why I found this article on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;msn&lt;/span&gt;.com (go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://msn.match.com/msn/article.aspx?articleid=6933&amp;TrackingID=516165&amp;amp;BannerID=541888&amp;menuid=6&amp;amp;GT1=9983"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt; to read). Of course, I was totally doing work-related research...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Anyhow, the topic really hit home because I am 5'8" and can relate to the author and the ladies interviewed. However, I do not think it's that big of an issue. While I am not that tall, all the shoes I own have high heels. That's all I wear, not because I am trying to be taller but because they make me feel sexier. So, if you ever see me out you would think I am 6'1". I never felt that it limited the number of men interested in me. On the contrary, there is something about being a confident tall woman that is very magnetic to men of all sizes (maybe, I have the modeling industry to thank). I do have my own height requirements for my dates but I am flexible. It seems like I get hit on by the short guys a lot more than the tall guys. After discussing that with several guy friends we came to a conclusion that men and women view the issue very differently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Taller Women: They are thinking, "Are people looking at us funny? Are they thinking I was that desperate? Do I look like a cow next to him?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Shorter Men: They are thinking, "Damn! I am on fire! I got me a tall chick! Everyone around me  now thinks I have a lot to offer in the other department!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The bottom line is - be yourself, be comfortable with who you are and what you look like. That is the most attractive physical quality any way and people will notice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1411603656615097149?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1411603656615097149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1411603656615097149' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1411603656615097149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1411603656615097149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/too-tall-to-date-ppppalease.html' title='Too tall to date? PPPPalease!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4073393022291039833</id><published>2007-05-04T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T07:55:37.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad boys vs Good boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sooooo&lt;/span&gt;.... I am trying to figure out what is wrong with me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Trent is nice, good looking, smart, funny (quite a catch, right?) but he wouldn't shut up about how much I mean to him and how he would never do anything to hurt me, how he can see us growing old together, blah blah blah. He says he doesn't want to pressure me or scare me away yet he keeps putting me on the spot, trying to ask me if I miss him (or asking me if I am just saying that when I say it myself). I've been trying to be patient because I am hoping he will tone it down eventually but he is really starting to annoy me... Don't know how much more I can take... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Is it because I am used to dealing with guys that only want sex with no strings attached? Why do I like the bad boys that treat me like crap?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;By the way, he is not going to make it down here tonight, so I get to spend the weekend with my girls. So excited!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4073393022291039833?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4073393022291039833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4073393022291039833' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4073393022291039833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4073393022291039833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/bad-boys-vs-good-boys.html' title='Bad boys vs Good boys'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4137217735595583061</id><published>2007-05-03T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T07:04:39.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some more on Trent</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I am working on my startegy on how to tell Trent about his kissing skills. I am thinking I am going to let him know how much I love kissing him first, then tell him that I would love kissing him even more if he wasn't as agressive and show him how it's done... We'll see how that goes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I originally planned on spending the whole weekend with friends but Trent talked me into letting him come down on Fri night. I really didn't have anything planned till Saturday, so I told him that was fine. I'll just have to figure out the nice way to kick him out in the morning so I can get ready for the festivities with the girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Gotta get back to work. I'll get to that "meme", that I got tagged for by several people, soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4137217735595583061?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4137217735595583061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4137217735595583061' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4137217735595583061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4137217735595583061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/some-more-on-trent.html' title='Some more on Trent'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-486283486356685620</id><published>2007-05-01T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T08:56:49.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The missing Monkey is back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well... My crazy travelling is finally over. I went to Wisconsin and Chicago last week. Tried to blog while I was there but for some reason, my bosses lap top that I had with me didn't allow me to get on Blogger...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Any how, the trip went well, no flight delays this time (for once ;-). I came back on Fri night and got ready for my date with Trent.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Update on Trent:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He came down around 5pm on Saturday. The first 10 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; were a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;awkward&lt;/span&gt; but I got him to loosen up pretty fast. We sat around, had a couple of drinks and talked for a couple of hours; then got him checked in to a hotel and went out to dinner. Had a great steak, moved on to bar next door and did some more chatting. It was a fairly uneventful date but it was nice. I enjoyed it. I invited him to my house for breakfast the next morning. We ate, watched a movie while cuddling on the couch and he had to drive home.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I liked just about everything about Trent. He is nice, good looking, smart (and smart-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;assish&lt;/span&gt; like me), funny and serious about wanting a relationship. Just a couple of things that make me nervous: he lives 3 hours away (at least for now); he is VERY serious about a relationship (he practically told me he thought I was his dream woman and he wanted to marry me) - a little scary to me while still flattering; I don't like how he kisses (but I am still sexually attracted to him).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't think any of the listed "disadvantages" are "fatal". I can work with these so we'll see where it takes us...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He wanted to come see me this weekend but I desperately need to relieve some stress by hanging out with my favorite girls so i told him this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; was reserved for a girl's night out. He can miss me for a little while ;-)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-486283486356685620?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/486283486356685620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=486283486356685620' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/486283486356685620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/486283486356685620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/05/missing-monkey-is-back.html' title='The missing Monkey is back!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6597530553180567915</id><published>2007-04-20T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T11:28:47.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;You know what, I lied... I'm not just a little ticked off... I'm pissed!!! He was very apologetic and thanked me for being understanding but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6597530553180567915?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6597530553180567915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6597530553180567915' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6597530553180567915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6597530553180567915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/you-know-what-i-lied.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-5316312030102448495</id><published>2007-04-20T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T11:01:37.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Date...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, Trent just called me and asked me to re-schedule our date... I am a little ticked off because I've spent the last week preparing for it but I had to be understanding because he just got back after spending a year in Iraq and hadn't had a chance to see family yet. We decided on getting together next Saturday. I think he also called to talk to me and figure out if he still wanted to see me. We have only been communicating via short messages on facebook and those were mostly clever remarks back and forth about nothing. I guess I charmed him throughout our conversation because he told me he was very excited about seeing me next Saturday... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I guess, I'll just party it up with friends this weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Happy Friday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-5316312030102448495?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/5316312030102448495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=5316312030102448495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5316312030102448495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5316312030102448495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/date.html' title='Date...'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4322809897078456283</id><published>2007-04-19T11:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T11:57:57.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Short and Sweet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; A real note on my neighbors' door: "Looking for friends. Ours suck. Knock on the door." HAHAHA!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4322809897078456283?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4322809897078456283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4322809897078456283' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4322809897078456283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4322809897078456283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/short-and-sweet.html' title='Short and Sweet'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-9213118750869558262</id><published>2007-04-17T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T07:12:20.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I am so busy, I don't have time to think of anything insightful to write about so I'll just give you an update on my life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Went to my Alma Mater for the weekend with my friend D. We had a blast road-tripping until it started snowing 30 miles away from our destination! Yes, snowing! It started looking like freaking Christmas within minutes. It was coming down so hard that I could barely see the front of my car. All I kept thinking: "There is no way I can die in a snow storm in the middle of April!" Haha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;We had a blast visiting some old friends and doing the "memory walk" through all of the bars we used to party at. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;We stayed at my "adopted mother's" house (we adopted each other a long time ago). She is the best cook in the world! I think I gained 20 lbs over two days ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I have to travel to Wisconsin and then straight to Chicago from there next week, so I'll be gone the whole week next week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Things to do by this Friday: do the 15,000 things that need to get done at work, go buy a nice suit and a pair of shoes to match for the trip next week, loose at least 10 lbs, clean house, do laundry. I wish I could clone myself!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;The date with Trent (my long lost ex-date) is this Friday. He is coming down on Fri evening and staying the night (in the hotel, mind you). I am really anxious/excited/antsy/nervous about seeing him. I don't know what to expect but I feel like there might be something there, for some reason...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;I'd better get cracking!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-9213118750869558262?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/9213118750869558262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=9213118750869558262' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/9213118750869558262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/9213118750869558262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-am-so-busy-i-dont-have-time-to-think.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1256047225955518980</id><published>2007-04-12T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T11:20:17.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;The new job responsibilities are overwhelming! I am also hungover because I had a brilliant idea to go out on a Wed. night for a little bit... well, the evening turned out to be super fun and I was stumbling into my house at 2am before I knew it... I actually felt pretty good when I woke up at 7am... I was probably still drunk at that point... It is now 1:20pm and I am hurting... No more time for blogging today. Gotta go concentrate!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1256047225955518980?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1256047225955518980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1256047225955518980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1256047225955518980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1256047225955518980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/new-job-responsibilities-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-5119475841743647938</id><published>2007-04-09T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:36.121-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='partying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quality of life'/><title type='text'>My Life is Far from Ordinary... My Card is American Express...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhpfdpOQG2I/AAAAAAAAABo/ZRfi_FQWu2o/s1600-h/n58701475_30308139_9565.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051454894935907170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhpfdpOQG2I/AAAAAAAAABo/ZRfi_FQWu2o/s320/n58701475_30308139_9565.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Oh yes, my friends, this last weekend was amazing! I whored it up, got my drink and dance on; ate some great food, made some cool friends, etc! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;My Latino Stud lived up to my expectations. I was a little hesitant about taking him home at first but then I decided to live in a moment and enjoy life as it comes. He is a little strange but so hot and funny! Nothing serious will come out of that but it was so worth it! I am tired of being proper. I just realized that I am finally making up for the last 4 years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;You see, the last place i lived at before moving to this town, was a very small town in the middle of Illinois. I had almost no social while there (two reasons: 1. I worked 50-60 hours a week and went to grad school full time - not much time left; 2. absolutely no single males older than 21 or younger than 50 in that area, thus no dating). Then I moved to this town and had a hard time finding friends for the first year; therefore, not much of a social life again. Basically I spent 4 years missing out on the things that a girl my age should have been doing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;That changed last Fall. I found some great friends to spend time with so I am planning on getting the craziness out of my system by the time I turn 30 (I am turning 27 this year so I got a way to go ;-) Most of my friends around here are still in college, so I am extending my college years. Great times!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Happy Monday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;The three guys in the picture are some of the guys from the party (the one on the right is Latino Stud). I had to cut off the heads to protect their identities, sorry. Enjoy the view though ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-5119475841743647938?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/5119475841743647938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=5119475841743647938' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5119475841743647938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/5119475841743647938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/oh-yes-my-friends-this-last-weekend-was.html' title='My Life is Far from Ordinary... My Card is American Express...'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhpfdpOQG2I/AAAAAAAAABo/ZRfi_FQWu2o/s72-c/n58701475_30308139_9565.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4238483170030535048</id><published>2007-04-07T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T16:44:52.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG!!!</title><content type='html'>First of all, I went to heaven last night! I am not even kidding! I partied with the men's college swimming and diving team! If you don't understand what that means, turn your TVs to the channel that's broadcasting swimming and check out their bods! I don't know about all of the swimmers but this particular group is crazy. Before I knew it, they were all taking their shirts off while dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one particular &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;latino&lt;/span&gt; swimmer danced with me the whole night. I know he is a total man-whore but so hot! It took everything I had not to take him home... but he called me and I couldn't resist... he is coming over in 30 minutes... I just realized how long it's been...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend! I know I am!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4238483170030535048?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4238483170030535048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4238483170030535048' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4238483170030535048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4238483170030535048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/omg.html' title='OMG!!!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1908070178677185562</id><published>2007-04-04T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:36.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhQL9JOQG1I/AAAAAAAAABg/bfW8-_1j8Ec/s1600-h/An-Idiots-Guide-To-Sex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049674227264789330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhQL9JOQG1I/AAAAAAAAABg/bfW8-_1j8Ec/s200/An-Idiots-Guide-To-Sex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;So I was sitting here at work feeling completely unmotivated. I just finished a large project that I worked on the whole weekend so I didn't feel like doing anything else productive today. That is why I ventured off into the blog land and read several posts about when the girls should agree to have sex with the guys they are dating... Of course, the consensus was that they should wait for a while. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Well, I agree with that even though I've struggled with that a couple of times in the past myself. There are thousands of articles out there on the subject... However, I always wondered about the technical side of that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;It's easy to say that nobody should do it too soon but what exactly do you say when you are in the middle of a heavy petting session and things are progressing fast? How do you get out of that kind of a situation without sounding like a prude or an immature dork? I am 26 years old, so I can't exactly say that I am not sure if I want to give up my virginity just yet... What are some graceful ways to deal with the situation? How do you stay sexy yet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mysterious&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;I picked my sister's brain about it (she only works at a CPA firm and it's only the hottest time of the tax season right now, so there's no reason why she can't take a break and discuss the important matters with me on the company time). Her suggestion was - not putting yourself in the situation where things can get too hot and heavy, i. e. stick to the public places for the first several dates. She has a point but it is not always realistic so I'd like to hear some other words of wisdom... Anyone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1908070178677185562?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1908070178677185562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1908070178677185562' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1908070178677185562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1908070178677185562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/so-i-was-sitting-here-at-work-feeling.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhQL9JOQG1I/AAAAAAAAABg/bfW8-_1j8Ec/s72-c/An-Idiots-Guide-To-Sex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4686634248710243882</id><published>2007-04-03T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T11:31:31.749-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fitness'/><title type='text'>Technical Difficulties</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Oooops! I clicked on different templates in the blogger just out of curiousity, didn't realize it was going to change my template and erase all of my links without confirming with me... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I will add my blogroll back as soon as I have some time to spare!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I stopped including the Fitness Updates for a while... Bad... Not much to be proud of there but i am really serious about it from now on for the following reasons: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;just bought a super sexy bikini and...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;it looks like crap when I put it on... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;because I need to loose about 8-10 pounds and...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;the management of my apartment complex just informed us that the swimming pool will be opening in about 3 weeks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;No more excuses!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Fitness update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Weight : 162 lbs :-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Cardio: 60 minutes on elliptical&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Weightlifting Class: 60 minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4686634248710243882?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4686634248710243882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4686634248710243882' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4686634248710243882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4686634248710243882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/technical-difficulties.html' title='Technical Difficulties'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2989836573258670162</id><published>2007-04-02T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:36.444-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Promotion and Blast from the Past</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhEbbLVd9pI/AAAAAAAAABY/5q4zsN-Fnds/s1600-h/blast1.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048846810972288658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhEbbLVd9pI/AAAAAAAAABY/5q4zsN-Fnds/s200/blast1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just found out on Friday that I got a promotion and I’m freaking out because I don’t think I’m qualified for it!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aaargh&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;I’m such a dork: my big corporate boss left me a voicemail last Wednesday and told me to call him on Friday to chat about this new position that I applied for two months ago and haven't heard anything about since. That’s all he said so I thought he was going to give me an update on the process but he started interviewing me when I called. I was so unprepared! Then he told me about how he has two people in his region that applied for this job (I know the other person, she has some 15 years of experience and way more qualified than me) and he wishes he could use both of us but, unfortunately, there is only one position, blah-blah-blah... So I thought he was telling me that because the other person was going to get the job and he was just politely saying, “thanks for playing, try again”, so I sort of stopped paying close attention to what he was saying… Than he goes, “Well, I’d like to informally offer you the position!” I almost fell off the chair!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This job is not going to require relocation. I will still be responsible for the account I work at now but I will also consult 4 other accounts in Missouri, Illinois and Wisconsin. More travel, a lot more responsibility, a little more money and lots of things to prove!!! I've got my work cut out for me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On a different note, I received an email from Trent this morning asking me if I'd like to hang out when he gets back to the area. Interesting story here: Trent and I went out on a few dates back in college some 5 or 6 years ago!!! I remember him being a nice and cute guy but the timing wasn't right for me so I dumped him (even though in order to surprise me on my birthday, he drove for 4 hours to an upscale grocery store to buy me a jar of black caviar for $60 because I mentioned that I liked it). We lost touch. Fast forward to last year. I was doing the whole online dating thing and noticed a profile of a guy who lived within an 1.5 hours from me. He looked painfully familiar but I couldn't quite remember who he was. I emailed him and turned out that it was Trent but he was currently in Iraq for another year or so. We emailed back and forth a few times but I started dating someone and we stopped talking again... Well, apparently, he is back in the States, coming back to Missouri in the near future. Is this a sign? Crazy story, huh?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2989836573258670162?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2989836573258670162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2989836573258670162' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2989836573258670162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2989836573258670162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/04/promotion-and-blast-from-past.html' title='Promotion and Blast from the Past'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RhEbbLVd9pI/AAAAAAAAABY/5q4zsN-Fnds/s72-c/blast1.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4702363827300691038</id><published>2007-03-26T12:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:36.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Code for ???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RggdZZN8ZcI/AAAAAAAAABM/cf4tt06AnRE/s1600-h/Magic%20Carpet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046315704571946434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RggdZZN8ZcI/AAAAAAAAABM/cf4tt06AnRE/s200/Magic%2520Carpet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Well I'm finally back to my routine... sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip to Chicago was interesting... I learned a lot professionally speaking. Then... got stuck in O'Hare airport for GET THIS!!! 13 hours trying to get home! I think I jinxed it that morning. On the way to the airport I kept thinking how easy of a trip it would be this time: a direct flight home, only about 1 hour long... Right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My flight was at 11:30am, at first it was delayed for about an hour, they finally let us board. So, I walked down the ramp along with the other hopeful passengers but the flight attendant was in the middle of a heated discussion with someone on the phone and didn't let us on to the actual plane. Once she hung up, she announced that we had to go back to the gate area and wait while they TAPED THE CARPET... WTF??? That wouldn't have been so weird if they didn't cancel that flight 30 minutes later (without even making an announcement, by the way...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make the long story short, I made it home around 1am the next morning after spending endless hours at the airport hanging out with my newly acquired friends, eating, drinking, watching movies on the laptop, reading and wondering what "TAPING THE CARPET" stood for...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun times!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4702363827300691038?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4702363827300691038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4702363827300691038' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4702363827300691038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4702363827300691038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/code-for.html' title='Code for ???'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RggdZZN8ZcI/AAAAAAAAABM/cf4tt06AnRE/s72-c/Magic%2520Carpet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2990762411621908130</id><published>2007-03-19T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T08:58:19.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loooooove....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Something I read on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; blog today got me thinking about why we love people we love... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Once upon a time in a place far far away my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BFF&lt;/span&gt; Gayle and I went to a wedding reception. In fact, we sort of crashed the reception because her husband was a DJ there and we had to deliver a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CDs&lt;/span&gt; to him. We ended up staying and hanging out with a bunch of friends that were there. Here we were sitting at a table having a few drinks when HE walked up. HIS name was Eric and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He had this twinkle in his eyes that was absolutely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;irresistible&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;To my disappointment, some Blondie walked up and hugged HIM from the back shortly after we met. She happened to be HIS girlfriend of 2 years (as I was informed while investigating HIS background while in the women's restroom). HE left in a few minutes because Blondie wanted to go home. I was devastated but decided I didn't need any drama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;HE came back 20 minutes later... Alone... We drank and danced and laughed. Somehow we ended up going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart (don't ask me why) after the reception and he bought me some hideous hat that I picked up while walking around and insisted on wearing. We made out in the parking lot while waiting for friends to get done shopping. That was the best night of my life (or close to it). I was so wrapped up in my feelings that I never gave him my number and he never asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I thought that was just a dream but I couldn't get him out of my head. I ran into him at another wedding reception a few weeks later and he told me he couldn't get me out of his head but I had the strength to tell him that as long as he had a girlfriend nothing was going to happen. I gave him my phone number though when he asked... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;He called me a week later and told me he broke up with Blondie and asked me out to dinner. The next month was a bliss! We talked several times a day, saw each other every day, met each other's parents and friends... Then one day he told me he met someone else...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I'd never been so crushed in my whole life. I didn't eat for a couple of weeks. I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;layed&lt;/span&gt; on my bed staring at the ceiling. I thought my life was over. Of course, time heals almost everything...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;It's been 4 years. I've had several boyfriends since then but a little part of me is still not over Eric. Coming to think of it, I barely knew him, he wasn't right for me in any way, we never even had sex(!) but I still keep that hat that he bought me at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I'm off to Chicago! Happy Monday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2990762411621908130?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2990762411621908130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2990762411621908130' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2990762411621908130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2990762411621908130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/loooooove.html' title='Loooooove....'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4153527690828342157</id><published>2007-03-14T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T08:58:32.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Working Girl!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just found out that I'd been invited to be a part of a sales team and go to Chicago with my boss this Monday to negotiate a new contract for the company. I am super excited and scared of making an a$$ out of myself all at the same time. I need to gather a whole bunch of information before the trip so I'll have to work most of the weekend. Guess I'll have to tone the partying down a little bit ;-)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fitness Update:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weight: 163 lbs (still!!! dammit!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weight Training: 30 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cardion&lt;/span&gt;: Walking - 30 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4153527690828342157?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4153527690828342157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4153527690828342157' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4153527690828342157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4153527690828342157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/working-girl.html' title='Working Girl!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-8644459276950337594</id><published>2007-03-13T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:36.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Delicioso!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RfcC9d080jI/AAAAAAAAABE/OioX3CF1RHM/s1600-h/chef.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041501562866553394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RfcC9d080jI/AAAAAAAAABE/OioX3CF1RHM/s200/chef.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;I'm trying to get back on track with my eating and working out. Just wanted to share a couple of delicious and healthy salads that I make. I don't know the official names of these. In fact, I think my mom and I may have made them up, so I'll just make up the names.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monkey Slaw:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;1 bag of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cole&lt;/span&gt; slaw mix (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fresh&lt;/span&gt; cabbage is juicier but I'm lazy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;1 package of imitation crab meat (can also use shrimp)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;1 can of corn, drained&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;2 Tbsp of finely chopped onion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Light Hellman's Mayo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;salt, pepper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Chop the crab meat, mix with the cabbage, corn and onions. Add mayo to taste and season. It's delicious, low cal and has proteins, lots of fiber and some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;carbs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monkey's Spring Mix:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;2 cucumbers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;1 bunch of radishes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;4 hard boiled eggs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;1/2 bunch of green onions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Light sour cream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;salt, pepper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Slice cucumbers and radishes, chop the eggs and green onions. Season to taste and add sour cream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Let me know what you think if you try these.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Fitness Update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Weight: 163lbs :-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Weight Training: 1 hour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Cardio&lt;/span&gt;: Elliptical- 30 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;, Walking - 20 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-8644459276950337594?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/8644459276950337594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=8644459276950337594' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8644459276950337594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/8644459276950337594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/delicioso.html' title='Delicioso!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RfcC9d080jI/AAAAAAAAABE/OioX3CF1RHM/s72-c/chef.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2322163598531014382</id><published>2007-03-12T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T08:59:10.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a vacation!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;It's spring outside! Seventy one degrees and longer days (partly due to the early time change) indicate that, right? I am supposed to be in an elevated mood! I am not... I just don't want to be at work today... Since there is no way for me to get out of it today I am rebelling by being completely unproductive!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I think I am moody because I spent too much time hanging out with friends, drinking and eating and not enough time catching up on cleaning, laundry, sleeping and grocery shopping. The result: filthy apartment, no clean clothes to wear this morning and no food for breakfast. Plus the fact that I gained 3 pounds over the weekend doesn't help things any... I did go to a weight lifting class on Saturday morning at 8am!!! (considering the fact that I went to bed at 3 am - quite an accomplishment) but that's about all I've done to satisfy my fitness goals...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I'll stop depressing you all and go be my grumpy self at a really boring meeting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2322163598531014382?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2322163598531014382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2322163598531014382' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2322163598531014382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2322163598531014382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-need-vacation.html' title='I need a vacation!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6453643854890636162</id><published>2007-03-09T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:37.057-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rambling'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RfGtXN080iI/AAAAAAAAAA8/KWKT2VWMUno/s1600-h/sushi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040000072364642850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RfGtXN080iI/AAAAAAAAAA8/KWKT2VWMUno/s200/sushi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I am so not feeling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blogalicious&lt;/span&gt; today... In fact, all I want to do is curl up in my bed, take a nap then just lounge around and read a book while listening to the rain pounding away outside... The only part of that fantasy that can come true is the rain. Actually, I think it's already raining out there but I am stuck in the office staring at my computer screen...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I am not in a bad mood - just very sleepy. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;What&lt;/span&gt; started out as going to a sushi bar with a couple of girlfriends last night, turned into a full-blown 4-hour long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;gossipping&lt;/span&gt; session complete with lots of food and wine... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Gotta stop blogging... Having trouble with keeping my eyes open...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Fitness Update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Weight: No clue (afraid to check after all of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;yummy&lt;/span&gt; Miami Rolls and wine I consumed last night)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Weight training and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cardio&lt;/span&gt;: Didn't do a damn thing (at least nothing that can be classified as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;exercise&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6453643854890636162?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6453643854890636162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6453643854890636162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6453643854890636162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6453643854890636162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-am-so-not-feeling-blogalicious-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/RfGtXN080iI/AAAAAAAAAA8/KWKT2VWMUno/s72-c/sushi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-1316477894784268519</id><published>2007-03-08T09:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T08:59:27.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Happy Women's Day to you all and me!!! I've been bugging all of the guys I work with about this holiday for weeks. .. Guess what! They got me flowers today! Who says men can't be attentive sometimes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Don't have much time right now. Just wanted to mention that I've been proud of the results I am getting from working out. I haven't lost a lot of weight (just 2 pounds) but I lost a lot of fat and gained muscle. I've been doing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of weight training because I want to get very toned... It already shows! Yeah! I'm planning on kicking up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cardio&lt;/span&gt; a couple of notches next week. Good luck to all of you fellow dieters and anyone who is trying to make your lifestyle just a little healthier! Keep up the good work and keep me up to date on your progress!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Fitness Update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Weight: 161lbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Weight Training: 1 hour - very intense&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cardio&lt;/span&gt;: 20 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; - running&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-1316477894784268519?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/1316477894784268519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=1316477894784268519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1316477894784268519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/1316477894784268519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/happy-womens-day-to-you-all-and-me-ive.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-7082086563933103501</id><published>2007-03-07T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:37.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Re8FdRqoxQI/AAAAAAAAAA0/smx8nNxQEgM/s1600-h/Mountain%20Top.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039252508567454978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="169" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Re8FdRqoxQI/AAAAAAAAAA0/smx8nNxQEgM/s200/Mountain%2520Top.jpg" width="170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I finally updated my Blogroll, or "My Daily Addictions" as I call it! Half of the blogs I had on there before didn't even exist any more ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I heard that the beer that they sell in high altitudes is usually lower in alcohol content. For example, that same bottle of Budweiser which is normally 5% (I am just guessing here) would be 3.5% alcohol somewhere up in the mountains in Colorado... Does anyone know if it's true or not? Just curious... I thought it was odd...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Fitness update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Weight: 161 lbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Cardio (Tues. night): Running on treadmill - 20 min, Elliptical - 25 min&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-7082086563933103501?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/7082086563933103501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=7082086563933103501' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7082086563933103501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7082086563933103501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Re8FdRqoxQI/AAAAAAAAAA0/smx8nNxQEgM/s72-c/Mountain%2520Top.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3426643609346005701</id><published>2007-03-06T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T11:31:31.681-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best remedy for ex-boyfriend virus? FWB</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;A lot of you haven't started reading my blog till recently so you may not know who Ryan is. Go to the post&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; "New Male Harem Candidates"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; to refresh your memory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Yes, I kept Ryan around. Didn't see him while I was in a relationship but he really helped me snap out of it when I was broken hearted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ryan is the best Friend With Benefits any girl could ever want! As I mentioned previously, he has an amazing body (and knows how to use it) plus he is funny and witty. We have lots of fun light conversations but it is understood that we may not see each other for a few weeks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;We just text each other when we feel like getting together and there are no hard feelings when one of us is busy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;When I first met him, I thought we were going to be together forever. I changed my mind within the next 6 minutes or so because Ryan was just not "relationship material". However, we had such an undeniable chemistry that we couldn't pass it up...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Can't wait to see him tonight ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3426643609346005701?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3426643609346005701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3426643609346005701' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3426643609346005701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3426643609346005701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/best-remedy-for-ex-boyfriend-virus-fwb.html' title='Best remedy for ex-boyfriend virus? FWB'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2831272134911479222</id><published>2007-03-06T08:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:37.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No no no</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Re2VJBqoxPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/JKDGZb6AWDk/s1600-h/Fridge%20Magnet%20-%20Ex-Boyfriend.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038847540396082418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Re2VJBqoxPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/JKDGZb6AWDk/s200/Fridge%2520Magnet%2520-%2520Ex-Boyfriend.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scratch that! I was so wrong about responding to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ex's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; messages. First of all, I told him that i could meet with him on Mon or Tues and he never responded that day. Then, yesterday he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; me:"What's up?" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;? I guess he just decided that we were on good terms again. I didn't answer and not planning on doing so any more! Forget that! I really don't care about what's going in his life and his mind. If he is going to profess his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;undying&lt;/span&gt; love for me, he is a couple of months too late!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Fitness Update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Weight: 161 lbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Weight training: 1 hour on Mon. night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Cardio: 20 min of running on the treadmill on Mon. night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2831272134911479222?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2831272134911479222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2831272134911479222' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2831272134911479222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2831272134911479222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/no-no-no.html' title='No no no'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/Re2VJBqoxPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/JKDGZb6AWDk/s72-c/Fridge%2520Magnet%2520-%2520Ex-Boyfriend.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-2616472278027021997</id><published>2007-03-05T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:37.472-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Convince the men in your life to start celebrating this!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReyGEQdaYFI/AAAAAAAAAAk/AkQ2i4ci2Eg/s1600-h/8marta_card_web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038549490816671826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" height="135" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReyGEQdaYFI/AAAAAAAAAAk/AkQ2i4ci2Eg/s320/8marta_card_web.jpg" width="227" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;The most important day of the year is almost upon us!March 8 - International Women's Day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Many people around the world may be unaware of this day, but in Russian culture it is a huge event. Bigger than Valentines Day or even Christmas Day.Despite the political origins of Women's Day, for Russian women it holds no political significance, only beauty and celebration.Not only it is a celebration of women and femininity, but it also celebrates the start of Spring.And what connects the two?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Flowers, of course!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Women's day is a day where all men should give flowers and gifts to the women in their life. Not just wives or girlfriends, but also family members, even work colleagues.Men should also not allow their women to do any work of any kind. For Russian women, this is a rare day! No going to work (it's a public holiday anyway), no housework, no cooking. It's all to be done by men.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;This is not another Valentines Day, which is more a private celebration for couples. This is a day for ALL women. A day of thanks, appreciation, respect and admiration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Women's Day is an official public holiday in Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Bulgaria, Moldova, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan (along with a few other countries).It is also well-celebrated in Hungary, Poland and Romania (although it is not a public holiday).Impress any Russian women in your life with a card, gift, or flowers. If you have nothing to do with Russia, convince the men in your life that you do ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-2616472278027021997?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/2616472278027021997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=2616472278027021997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2616472278027021997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/2616472278027021997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/convince-men-in-your-life-to-start.html' title='Convince the men in your life to start celebrating this!!!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReyGEQdaYFI/AAAAAAAAAAk/AkQ2i4ci2Eg/s72-c/8marta_card_web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-6899680160841265670</id><published>2007-03-05T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T10:14:07.658-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DRAMA!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So, I was making my way through the crowded night club on a Saturday night, trying to get to the bar and guess who I literally bumped into on the way... my ex-boyfriend B. whom I was not on speaking terms with... I hadn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;seen&lt;/span&gt; him or talked to him since the end of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;January&lt;/span&gt; so I was completely caught off guard. I mumbled "hello" and tried to turn the other way. He stopped me and asked me for my phone number because "his phone was messed up and all of the numbers he had saved were deleted" or some crap like that. I asked him why he needed my # any way and he told me he had something to talk to me about but the club wasn't the appropriate spot for that. All I could do was raise my eye brows and tell him my number. I avoided him the rest of the night and continued having a blast with friends despite him trying to strike up a conversation with me a couple of times. I was so glad I took the time to look especially good that night and it paid off because I was extremely popular with the guys around. I wasn't interested in any of them but it made for a good show for the ex.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; me yesterday to ask if we could meet up for lunch this week. I was torn between ignoring his message and making him feel stupid and satisfying my own curiosity. No matter what he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tells&lt;/span&gt; me, there is no going back for me but I really do want to know what he has to say because the only "reasonable" explanation I can come up with is he wants to tell me he is pregnant ;-) The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;curiosity&lt;/span&gt; got the best of me. Agreed. I am planning on listening to what he has to say, asking him if he was done and walking out after saying "see you around". Evil, huh?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh, the date with Barry on Fri was fine. He can't wait to see me again... I am kind of enjoying being a player for a change...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-6899680160841265670?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/6899680160841265670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=6899680160841265670' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6899680160841265670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/6899680160841265670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/drama.html' title='DRAMA!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3506739014342384441</id><published>2007-03-02T11:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T11:40:56.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Not much to report today... Super busy at work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Barry and I are going to the Art Walk (a monthly event with more than 30 art galleries participating) tonight. I just ran to the mall over the lunch break and bought me the cutest yellow and white sweater for the occasion since it's supposed to be cold this evening. I'm such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;girlie&lt;/span&gt; girl sometimes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;One of my good friends M. plays tennis for a major university and she has two matches tomorrow. I am going to go cheer her on, then pick her up when she is done and we are off to celebrate a much anticipated birthday of a mutual friend. Can't wait!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Can't think of anything profound to say so that's all for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Fitness update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Weight: 162lbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cardio&lt;/span&gt;: 45 min on the elliptical (last night)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3506739014342384441?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3506739014342384441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3506739014342384441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3506739014342384441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3506739014342384441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/tgif.html' title='TGIF!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-7161247941625016716</id><published>2007-03-01T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T08:35:02.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No news is good news</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Well, the doctor didn't think I had anything serious. He thought it was just some sort of an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;eczema&lt;/span&gt; (not sure how to spell it???). He was a little puzzled about why I've had the spot for about a year but thought it should disappear in about 2 weeks if I use the creme he prescribed. We'll see... Thanks for thinking of me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've been thinking about different dating styles today. All of my serious relationships were very intense. Sort of a love and/or attraction at first sight. As soon as I met Him we were inseparable, stayed in constant contact (couple of calls and/or emails a day) and saw each other several times a week if not every day. I liked the attention, in fact, I craved it but I am not sure it was a good thing for the relationship. Usually, that fire burnt out fairly quickly and was only great while it lasted. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, Barry is different. I think he is very interested in me but he is not the type to call all the time and I don't know how to deal with it.  I am a very open and affectionate person but I need to know that the guy is open to receive that affection otherwise I shut down and loose interest. I know it's a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;little&lt;/span&gt; early to judge since we've only been on one date and talked on the phone a couple of times. not sure where i was going with this, just thinking out loud. Are your relationships usually as fast-paced as mine or not?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Fitness Update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Weight: 162 lbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Weight training: 1 hour (Wed night)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cardio&lt;/span&gt;: 30 min on Elliptical (Wed night)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-7161247941625016716?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/7161247941625016716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=7161247941625016716' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7161247941625016716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/7161247941625016716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/03/no-news-is-good-news.html' title='No news is good news'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-3500299592363956384</id><published>2007-02-27T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:37.664-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor'/><title type='text'>Update on my boys and something completely unrelated</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Boy #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Barry emailed me yesterday to let me know that he had a great time on Sunday night!!! He wanted to know if and/or when I wanted to do it again... ;-)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Boy #2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I never called Alex back so when I got out of the gym last night I had a text message from him :"Hope you had a good day..." I decided that was as good of a time as any to tell him not to waste his time. I sent him a message telling him that I was not ready to date right now since I just broke up with a boyfriend (it's partially true except that the right guy can help me snap out of that and that guy isn't Alex...)&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReRODE2LpbI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Q_z_RnxDjco/s1600-h/doctor.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036236098054628786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px" height="200" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReRODE2LpbI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Q_z_RnxDjco/s320/doctor.png" width="269" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On a different note, I am a little nervous today. I am finally going to the doctor. I've had this weird looking red spot on the bottom of my foot for about a year. Sometimes it changes color and starts itching, other times it almost disappears but never completely. I kept ignoring it, thinking it was going to go away but I finally decided to have it checked out. I made an appointment for today a couple of weeks but it was today when I realized that i really could potentially hear something frightening when I go and I'm not sure I'm prepared for it... Not going to get myself worked up but it's still in the back of my head...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fittness&lt;/span&gt; Update:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last weekend's partying and eating completely ruined my efforts. I had to start over yesterday. I am going to keep a log of my weight and my work out efforts on here (mostly for my own records)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday night:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cardio&lt;/span&gt; - 15 minutes on Elliptical; Weight Training - 1 hour&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weight: 163 pounds&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-3500299592363956384?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/3500299592363956384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=3500299592363956384' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3500299592363956384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/3500299592363956384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/update-on-my-boys-and-something.html' title='Update on my boys and something completely unrelated'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReRODE2LpbI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Q_z_RnxDjco/s72-c/doctor.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-4719955224701951150</id><published>2007-02-26T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:12:37.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReL9yk2LpaI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JIcZMSHXTD4/s1600-h/martini-classic%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035866378679854498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 157px" height="184" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReL9yk2LpaI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JIcZMSHXTD4/s320/martini-classic%25202.jpg" width="230" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;First of all, the Blogger forced me to convert to the new version and I haven't been able to comment on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anyone's&lt;/span&gt; blog ever since!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Aarghhh&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Oh well, on to the detailed update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Friday night&lt;/span&gt;- Girls' Night out: Way too many martinis - do not remember the last 2 hours of the evening- my friends claim I didn't look or act intoxicated and actually held an intelligent conversation - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;huray&lt;/span&gt; to my "cruise control". I am now wondering how many people I gave my phone number to. I don't usually give my (correct) phone # to random people but seem to have no problem with it when I am drunk. All in all, we had a blast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Saturday:&lt;/span&gt; Hangover - Water- Sleep - Hangover - Water-Sleep- Water- Food- Still Hangover - Water- Couch +TV- Aspirin- Water. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; didn't want to go to the birthday party that night but it was too late to back out. It was pretty boring really and I wasn't in any shape or form to liven it up. My friend tried to set me up with this guy Alex who was there. He was pretty fascinated with me; me- not so much. He seemed like a nice guy but I felt no connection. I tried to escape without giving him a chance to talk to me one-on-one but he turned out to be more persistent than I thought and ran after me. Caught me in the parking lot and asked for my phone number... He already called yesterday and asked me to dinner. I screened his call and am now trying to decide how to politely refuse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Sunday:&lt;/span&gt; The magazine party was a blast!!! Lots of amazing food and wine! Probably gained 10 pounds in two hours but it was totally worth it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;The date with Barry turned out to be great! We ended up meeting downtown at a Greek restaurant for dinner and drinks. He was a little nervous at first but I'm a great "first date" so I charmed him. He couldn't resist. I'm pretty sure it's "to be continued"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-4719955224701951150?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/4719955224701951150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=4719955224701951150' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4719955224701951150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/4719955224701951150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/weekend-update.html' title='Weekend update'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/ReL9yk2LpaI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JIcZMSHXTD4/s72-c/martini-classic%25202.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117225505656993253</id><published>2007-02-23T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T11:38:33.371-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/1600/326057/MBF.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" height="186" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/320/603280/MBF.jpg" width="221" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have a really busy weekend planned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tonight (Fri night)&lt;/span&gt; - Night out on the town with the girls which means some martinis and/or wine, fabulous outfits and some flirting and gossiping. Can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Saturday night&lt;/span&gt; - Going to a birthday party. The birthday girl is only an acquaintance but she thinks one of the guys that's coming to the party is perfect for me... I don't really trust her taste but we'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sunday afternoon&lt;/span&gt; - Going to a party that a big local magazine puts on to honor the best businesses within the community. Lots of trendy restaurants, bars, hair salons, spas, etc will be there to showcase their products and services (which means free food!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sunday night&lt;/span&gt; - Date with Barry. Barry is someone I've been communicating  with via email for a while but never met in person. Not sure what to expect. I think we are just going to grab a drink. Keep it casual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend! I know I am going to! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117225505656993253?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117225505656993253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117225505656993253' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117225505656993253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117225505656993253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/busy-weekend.html' title='Busy Weekend'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117215931396616306</id><published>2007-02-22T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T07:48:33.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One less!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;In light of the recent events in &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://kittensplace30.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Beth's life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; and mine, I wanted to urge all of the female readers of this blog under 27 y.o. to check into getting vaccinated against HPV. I just received my first shot (the first of the three) and I feel that it's important for women to take charge and protect themselves from the possibility of getting cervical cancer.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't want to sound like a commercial but the makers of Gardasil are welcome to send me some $$s for my endorsement...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stay healthy!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117215931396616306?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117215931396616306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117215931396616306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117215931396616306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117215931396616306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/one-less.html' title='One less!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117199339476608701</id><published>2007-02-20T09:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T09:47:16.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Resolution? Nope! Just The usual Spring Transformation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/1600/61917/bicep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="177" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/320/844686/bicep.jpg" width="137" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;I never make resolutions for the New Year. Partly because I'm still in the hibernating mode at that time. I consider myself a very active person, I love being outside, working out, swimming, etc. Once the cold weather comes around though... all I want to do is lay on the couch and watch tv or read a good book! I am not particularly proud of it, I still try to go to the gym but don't make it there as often... The result: 10-15 pound gain between October and January (the holiday season doesn't help either). Don't get me wrong, I am still fabulous, there's just a little more fabulousness in me ;-) This happens to me every year. Once the warm weather comes around, I kick myself in the ass and start doing something about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;So, the plan is to work out at least 5 times a week (lifting weights twice, cardio - 3 times). Eating more vegetables, lean proteins and whole grains, less carbs. I never follow a strict diet and generally eat healthy any way, just need to kick it up a notch. Watch me get back to my "fighting weight" by the end of March!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Stats:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Height - 5'8"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Current weight - 163 pounds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Ideal weight - 150-152 pounds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Anybody wants to do this challenge with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117199339476608701?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117199339476608701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117199339476608701' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117199339476608701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117199339476608701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/new-years-resolution-nope-just-usual.html' title='New Year&apos;s Resolution? Nope! Just The usual Spring Transformation'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117155357002063845</id><published>2007-02-15T07:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T07:33:09.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are A Romantic Realist&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/areyouromanticorrealisticquiz/romantic-realist.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You tend to be grounded when it comes to romance.Sure, you can fall hard... but only for someone you've gotten to know.And once you're in love, you can be a total romantic goofball...But you'd never admit it to your friends!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;a"&gt;Are&lt;/a&gt; You Romantic or Realistic?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117155357002063845?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117155357002063845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117155357002063845' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117155357002063845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117155357002063845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/you-are-romantic-realistyou-tend-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117139665776047073</id><published>2007-02-13T11:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T11:59:15.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rated R</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Warning: This post is about sex. Read no further if you might be offended...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've been thinking about the sex life B. (my ex) and I had... I don't usually kiss and tell if I am in a serious relationship but the identities of both parties are well-protected here so I feel that I can discuss this in my blog freely.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'll get to the point: the sex was bad!!! I mean bad! What's strange is that I was still physically attracted to him even after several unsuccessful attempts on my part to turn things around... I can't explain it. Chemistry is a funny thing. I still wanted to touch B. every chance I got. Maybe, deep down, I kept hoping I could change him.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's not that B. did anything wrong in the sack... He just didn't do a lot of things he should have done. I usually have no problem telling a guy what I want but B.'s confidence in his skills blew me away... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Case in point: he thought that I had an orgasm at least 6 times the first time we had sex!!! For the record, I had none! I was going to say something but was lost for words when he asked me if it was 6 times or more... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The next time around he surprised me: he started going down on me. .. I thought there was hope... He stayed down there for about 30 seconds... Once again, I was going to say something but he was so proud of himself, so happy... I was lost for words...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;B.'s idea of foreplay was taking my hand and leading me to the bedroom or better yet taking his clothes off and getting into my bed while I was in the bathroom... That wouldn't sound so bad if it lead to anything... it didn't. Not to even mention the "size" issues...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The reason I'm writing this down is I am trying to figure out whether it is possible to educate a guy in his mid-twenties if he got this far without having a slightest idea of how woman's body worked or not... My sister claims it is always up to the woman to make it what she wants it to be like. I can see that in some cases... In B.'s case it might be too late. What do you think?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh and by the way, before you ask, I do think I am pretty good when it comes to sex. I am playful (and naughty), adventurous and giving and much more...&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117139665776047073?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117139665776047073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117139665776047073' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117139665776047073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117139665776047073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/rated-r.html' title='Rated R'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117103447512282189</id><published>2007-02-09T07:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T07:27:28.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AAAh! Valentine's Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/1600/729665/valentines_day_clipart_heart_arrow.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px" height="195" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/320/706271/valentines_day_clipart_heart_arrow.gif" width="197" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Everywhere I look I'm reminded of the fact that the "Heart Holiday" is right around the corner. I'm being bombarded with suggestions for where to go dine, what to eat, drink, what to buy for my significant other! I would have been overwhelmed if I actually had a significant other!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Lucky for me, I don't have to worry about a thing. I'm planning on going to work out after work on that day and then settling in on the couch with a book and a glass of wine. I started thinking about the last few years and realized that I'd never been in a serious relationship on Valentine's Day! Never! Most of my break-ups happened right before Christmas or shortly after. Is that a disturbing pattern or simply a coincidence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Frankly, I never had a real romantic Valentine's Day period. I've had my share of flowers and cheesy gifts from secret or not-so-secret-but-unwanted admirers but that's about it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I'm planning on splurging on an extremely good bottle of wine and celebrating my love for myself!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117103447512282189?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117103447512282189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117103447512282189' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117103447512282189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117103447512282189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/aaah-valentines-day.html' title='AAAh! Valentine&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117095230788931648</id><published>2007-02-08T08:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T08:33:45.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rollercoaster</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;I was going to post about my improved mood yesterday but ran out of time and it's gone today. I appreciate everyone's sweet comments. I think it will just take me a little while to get back to my normal self. I am usually a very upbeat and optimistic person. I've thrown myself into work and spending more time with friends in order to keep myself from thinking the negative thoughts but the nagging feeling is not going away... I tried drinking it away last weekend but that didn't work either... I even almost hooked up with an ex-ex boyfriend (not B.) who I happened to run into while drinking but the better judgment won (either that or I was too drunk to even imagine doing anything but snoring in my bed)! As you can see, I am making a concerted effort to shake the "blues" off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;The action plan:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Having martinis with the girls tomorrow night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Trying not to do anything stupid that night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Driving up to my Alma Mater (about 2 hours away) on Saturday to meet up with a very old college ex-boyfriend turned good friend T. who is being inducted to the Athletics Hall of Fame. He is flying in from San Diego for the weekend. Out of the 9 years I've known him, we only dated for about 3 months but stayed friends afterwards even though we lived several states and sometimes countries away from each other for the last 7 years. He is more like my girlfriend than anything else so I am excited to see him. Plus, going back to my old campus will bring back some great memories!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;Chilling with a good book on Sunday and saying "the hell with cleaning, grocery shopping and such"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;That's all I got so far but I'm flexible...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117095230788931648?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117095230788931648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117095230788931648' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117095230788931648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117095230788931648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/rollercoaster.html' title='Rollercoaster'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117068950437202577</id><published>2007-02-05T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T07:33:03.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Realization</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;I realized something today... I realized that I was scared of being single. I'd been single for some very long periods of time in the last 10 years. It never bothered me, I always thought it was better to be single than be with someone just to be with someone... I guess the age is catching up with me now. I caught myself thinking that I would be holding on to my next boyfriend even if he wasn't what I was looking for. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;All of my friends are married or are in serious relationships, they either have kids or are trying to have kids and here I am about to turn 27 in a couple of months and I am nowhere near anything serious... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;All of a sudden, I feel like my life is pointless: work, workout, sleep, hang out with friends once in a while, work, sleep...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Sorry for making you read this. I am seriously depressed and don't know what to do about it today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117068950437202577?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117068950437202577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117068950437202577' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117068950437202577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117068950437202577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/realization.html' title='Realization'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117044973156133674</id><published>2007-02-02T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T12:57:36.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It ought to be a law!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/1600/498382/goodyear_usw_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="146" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/320/830779/goodyear_usw_logo.jpg" width="153" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;Flat tires should never happen to girls' cars!!! That should be a rule! I was on the way to get some fabulous stuff at the mall so I could make my newly single self look completely fabulous tonight when I go out for a friend's birthday... Turned out that my tire was flat, had to pull over 2 blocks away from my house. Lucky for me, I happened to pull over right next to the Goodyear tire store. Long story short... the money that I planned on turning into something fabulous had to be spent on an ugly but badly needed tire :-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;Have a Happy and Fabulous Friday any way!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117044973156133674?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117044973156133674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117044973156133674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117044973156133674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117044973156133674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/02/it-ought-to-be-law.html' title='It ought to be a law!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117026999282599384</id><published>2007-01-31T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T10:59:52.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WSS aka White Shirt Sindrome</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/1600/454158/wet_t.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 99px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 94px" height="274" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6538/3353/320/383113/wet_t.jpg" width="249" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I consider myself graceful... ok, most of the time... I rarely trip, fall, spill, wipe out, etc. For some reason though, every time I put on a white shirt in the morning I end up with sort of an ugly stain by the end of the day no matter how careful I am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was no exception. I just spilled about a gallon of water on myself. I look like the winner of a wet t-shirt contest! It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to go to an important meeting with clients in about 15 minutes... Guess I'll have to wear a coat to the meeting and make up a story about me being allergic to the cold temperatures or something...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117026999282599384?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117026999282599384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117026999282599384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117026999282599384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117026999282599384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/01/wss-aka-white-shirt-sindrome.html' title='WSS aka White Shirt Sindrome'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117008767144197683</id><published>2007-01-29T08:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T08:21:11.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good news!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;Guess who might be coming to visit this weekend... Andrew from Memphis! (remember the guy I met at the airport but had to sort of break up with when I met B.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;He called me last night to just chat since we stayed friends and I told him about what happened with B. I let him do his "told you so" song an dance since he was still a little upset about me choosing B. over him... The good news is he still wants me! He said he tried to forget me but couldn't even though he only saw me once for about 45 minutes and that was two months ago!:-) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;He asked if I wanted some company and I invited him to come this weekend if he can (he lives 4.5 hours away). He is checking to see if he can get out of a couple of things he had planned on this weekend and will call me back! So excited!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117008767144197683?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117008767144197683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117008767144197683' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117008767144197683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117008767144197683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/01/good-news.html' title='Good news!!!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-117004468572883289</id><published>2007-01-28T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T20:24:45.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intuition</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I've gotta tell you... We should always listen to what our intuition is telling us... I've been to hell and back in the last three days fighting with my boyfriend over why he's been so distant and weird. I tried to ask him, I tried to reason with him, I tried asking him to come over and talk. He kept denying everything and being wishy-washy. Then he stopped answering my messages and calls. Hadn't heard from him for two days. I had this sick feeling in my stomach because I knew he had to be cheating on me otherwise he wouldn't be treating me that way but I kept trying to supress that still having a little bit of hope left somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, this morning I logged on to check my Facebook (We are both on there) and saw this message on his "wall" from his friend Rich: "Hey man... Did I leave my phone at your girl's house last night? It seems to be missing." Now, it seems harmless except that I've never met this friend so he definitely wasn't at my house last night! That just confirmed my suspicions about B. fooling around behind my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him to bring my apartment key back and leave under the door rug and put all of his stuff I had at my apartment outside in a plastic bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have loved to know how we could go from being blissfully happy to this in a matter of a few hours, it seems like but I am afraid I will never know the truth... I am done crying though. Life goes on! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-117004468572883289?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/117004468572883289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=117004468572883289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117004468572883289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/117004468572883289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/01/intuition.html' title='Intuition'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116980097090532397</id><published>2007-01-26T00:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T07:44:13.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Even more F*cking Pissed Off!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yeah, so I just have to vent. B. told me he was bowling with friends last night till I finished working and then he was going to come see me. He called me and told me some bullshit story about how he needed to go sit on his friend's wife's dad's (how do you like that!) property 1.5 hours away from Springfield because someone was trespassing and they needed to catch them! He told me that he wouldn't be able to call me because he wouldn't have good reception there, so he'd text (how would he know that before he got there?). I felt so uneasy, couldn't sleep, eat, sit in one place. Well, he finally texted me about 1:30am to tell me he was headed home... Here's the texting conversation we had:&lt;br /&gt;Me: I've gotta ask. Why have you been acting so strange lately?Can you tell me what's bothering you?&lt;br /&gt;B.: I've just been stressed&lt;br /&gt;Me: Whatever it is you can tell me&lt;br /&gt;B.: I know it. I just can't. It is something that's bothering me about my life&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok... I am really confused now, have been for the last 3 days. So I guess you know how to find me&lt;br /&gt;B.: (30 min later) honey I will figure it out&lt;br /&gt;(What the f*ck???!!! He's been acting weird all week, no cute random text messages, no calling me cute names, avoiding seeing me in person. Not sure if he was lying to me about his excuses, can't prove it but I have my doubts now)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Honey, I don't know what to do or say around the guy you have been this week. You've gotta give me a little more than that. I think I deserve that. If it's something I can help you with, please let me. If it has to do with our relationship, I'd like to know that too. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;No answer. Granted it was 3am by then and I guess he can say he fell asleep but I know he didn't. I couldn't sleep the rest of the night at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't know what the f*ck is going on any more!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116980097090532397?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116980097090532397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116980097090532397' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116980097090532397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116980097090532397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/01/even-more-fcking-pissed-off.html' title='Even more F*cking Pissed Off!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116975277965557620</id><published>2007-01-25T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T11:21:30.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasonably pissed off or paranoid? Help!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;So... I have to admit I am not very good at being in a relationship. I've always been good at getting guys but not very good at keeping them (C'mon, I am 26 y.o. and my longest relationship lasted 3.5 months!) I am not sure what it is that I do wrong, still trying to figure it out.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Here's the situation:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was sad yesterday. The reason is not important but my boyfriend knew about it. B. had a day off yesterday and I hadn't seen him in a couple of days so I thought he'd find time to hang out with me. He played basketball and racquetball the whole day, then claimed they called him to work for a few hours (could be true, don't know), then he called me about 9pm and told me he was exhausted and he was going to bed. I was kind of pissed off, didn't really tell him that even though he sensed something wasn't right, we'll see what he does today. It's his second day off, he better come up with a good plan for seeing me or I will be too busy to see him for the next week or so!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Up until now, I never doubted his words or actions. I always felt like he was truthful, but I had this weird gut feeling for the last couple of days that something wasn't right. I guess that's why I was hoping to see him face to face yesterday so I can try to figure it out. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Am I being to tally unreasonable? Should I say something or just act like everything is fine?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116975277965557620?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116975277965557620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116975277965557620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116975277965557620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116975277965557620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/01/reasonably-pissed-off-or-paranoid-help.html' title='Reasonably pissed off or paranoid? Help!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116949926705817883</id><published>2007-01-22T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T12:54:27.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've been up to for the last month and a half or so</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;So many things happened in my life recently! I could have gotten a lot of good posts out of the last two months but, frankly, was a little burnt out on blogging and simply didn't have much free time. I'll try to summarize it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I was invited to be on a National Sales Team for my company. Very high honor, especially since I've only been in my Marketing position for a little over a year. Got to travel a lot in the last couple of months. Needless to say, I learned more from this experience than I have in the last 9 years with this company!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;One of the highlights of the traveling experience was getting stuck in Memphis airport for three days on the way home due to a major snow storm that hit this part of the country in December. I ended up teaming up with a couple of ladies that I met at the gate, renting a car and driving through the snow and ice for 6 hours since we were told we couldn't get on a flight for 3 more days! Quite an experience!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Another highlight of spending quality time at Memphis airport was meeting Andrew, a really cool guy from Memphis. We started out chatting about random things and instantly bonded. We spent the next two weeks talking on the phone 5 times a day. Perfect beginning for a long distance relationship! I hadn't met such a quality guy in a long time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Guess what happened next... I guess December was my month of quality guys! I went out on the town with a bunch of girlfriends one Saturday night. The plan was to make it a girls night out, no guys aloud, just lots of dancing and drinking. The plan was going extremely well until I ran into B. I briefly met B. at a football game a month prior to that night. He was a friend of a friend's boyfriend. We seemed to have a connection and he told my friend that I was hot but in the end he chickened out and never asked for my phone number. Whether it was the amount of alcohol we both consumed prior to running into each other that night at the club or the connection that we had the first time we met (or both) but we really hit it off. The girls' night out was ruined because I spent the rest of the night dancing with B. He scored some major points with me by buying all of my girlfriends drinks the whole night, by the way (male readers, take notes!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;B. and I have been inseparable ever since. Despite the fact that he is almost 4 years younger than me (normally a major turn off for me) he is so mature when it comes to relationships that I don't care about his age. I've had my share of good and bad (mostly bad) boyfriends and nobody has ever treated me so well. He is very attentive, sweet and genuinely nice. At the same time, definitely not a push over, very outgoing and competitive (major turn ons for me). More details to come about B. since we are officially boyfriend and girlfriend and are toying with the "love" word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Unfortunately, I had to tell Andrew that nothing was going to happen with us. If only he lived closer than a 6-hour drive from me, things could have been different but I decided to give B. a chance first since he was here now. I haven't regretted this decision yet :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;The holidays were fun but kind of a blur. I spent a lot of quality time with friends and family, did a lot of traveling. The two weeks off work that I had flew by way too fast!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;We got hit with a major ice storm in this area last week. The city still looks like a war zone. Just a couple of days ago, 75,000 people were without power, stop lights didn't work, grocery stores were running out of supplies, no gas at the gas stations and broken tree limbs blocking the streets. It's slowly getting better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;My mother spent the last 6 months staying with my sister 3 hours away from here, so I got to see her every 2 weeks or so. She is leaving on Wed. morning, going back home, which is on the other side of the world. I will be doing a lot of crying once I put her on the plane :-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Enough for now. Happy belated holidays to you all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116949926705817883?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116949926705817883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116949926705817883' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116949926705817883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116949926705817883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-ive-been-up-to-for-last-month-and.html' title='What I&apos;ve been up to for the last month and a half or so'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116948021886590163</id><published>2007-01-22T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T07:36:58.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Borat</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And I am back again! Not sure if anyone reads this blog any more but I just felt like sharing an opinion today. Here goes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;What is wrong with me? Why am I not going crazy over the whole Borat thing? I saw the previews, and found them funny… But I just can’t bring myself to watch it. I keep making up excuses of the type “the movie is too popular, will be too crowded, and I need air…” But in reality I just don’t think I want to watch it.Maybe if he picked a fake nation. Like Krakozhia in “The Terminal” (in which, surprisingly everyone spoke Russian… but I guess when Hollywood wants to come up with a screwed up fake country, their imagination is still stalled somewhere in the Cold War zone).But he picked a real country. And there is something nasty about that. Just something that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Cause I honestly doubt that many people know that Kazakhstan is a normal modern country. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;How many people in North America have even heard of it before? (What, “no publicity is bad publicity” argument? Yah? Then what happened to the glorious career of Michael Jackson? Not enough publicity?) Even the news that deal with Borat rarely add anything to the statement that Kazakhstan is a former Soviet Republic. Well, it also happens to be worlds 9th largest country by size. And Kazakhs don’t look anything like Borat, by the way. Majority of the population actually looks Asian. The movie footage was shot in Romania. But I guess too many people know Romania to use it as a prop.No, I don’t think the movie is all bad. As I said, I haven’t watched it yet. So I can’t pass that judgment. In fact, apart from the country reference, it might actually be good…But picking on a little country (politically speaking) even if the intent is to make fun of a big one, is kind of low. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Since mostly everything about Kazakhstan was invented why not also invent a dummy country? Is that so hard? Besides, Hollywood already has a “Krakozhia” somewhere in the imaginary Eastern Europe. I’m sure "Boratia" would've been a very happy neighbor.There are opinions out there that Borat’s point is making fun of ignorant people that would actually believe all this nonsense. I agree. Any intelligent person would understand that people don’t drink horse urine or celebrate their sister’s rank in prostitution. But not everyone is intelligent. Flip the news channel any day, and you’ll see proof of that. This is like saying that “***** (fill in the blank) eat babies.” Of course intelligent people would never believe that. But there are enough jerks out there who do, or pretend they do. A movie like that would supply them with more nasty comments then they need.And besides, even though many people won’t believe the ridiculous assertions, nevertheless plenty will walk out of the cinema thinking that Kazakhstan is at least a “backwards” country. You know, one of those “former Soviet Republics” that is probably drugging its existence in the realm of nothingness compared to the “Great First World West”.And that, frankly, p***s me off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;P. S. I'll be back with an update on my life soon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116948021886590163?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116948021886590163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116948021886590163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116948021886590163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116948021886590163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2007/01/borat.html' title='Borat'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116646426799852533</id><published>2006-12-18T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T10:43:42.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I feel so bad about being away from my blog for so long! A lot of things happened in the last couple of weeks! I will be sure to catch you up. In the mean time, I'd like to share some words of wisdom. I hate when people ask me why I am still single but it's a valid question. I was thinking about what the real answer to that would be (what I usually say to people is "How often do you have sex with your husband?", I think it's a fair answer to the "single" question). In reality though, I couldn't really put it into words until someone shared this quote with me today:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Find a guy who calls you beautiful, who calls you back when you hang up on him, will stay awake just to watch you sleep...wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world even when you're in sweats, who thinks you're the prettiest when you have no make up on, the one who is constantly&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky he is to have you... wait for the one who turns to his friends and says "that's her." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;This is exactly why I've been single for so long. This is what I've been looking for! I think I may have found that guy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116646426799852533?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116646426799852533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116646426799852533' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116646426799852533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116646426799852533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116404945700969684</id><published>2006-11-20T11:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T11:04:17.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Monday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6538/3353/1600/Monday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6538/3353/320/Monday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116404945700969684?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116404945700969684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116404945700969684' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116404945700969684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116404945700969684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2006/11/happy-monday.html' title='Happy Monday!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116379695254006872</id><published>2006-11-17T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T12:55:52.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sin City - Installment #3</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;So, did you think Adrian's efforts paid off? Of course! I gave him my email address at the end of the night (before I stumbled to my room and took a nap for about an hour)! That's all he wanted, right? ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;The next morning was even rougher. It took twice as much Starbucks coffee to make me coherent. More work had to be done during the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Once we were done with that, we had a plan to go to the Venetian and have dinner. It seemed like it was very close to our hotel so we walked. After 2 hours of walking we made it there. The wait for a table at every restaurant was at least 2 hours... We ate at the buffett in Harrah's (it was fairly disgusting but my displeasure may have been intensified by the fact that the blisters on my feet that I got from walking for 2 hours started bleeding...). A couple of hours of shopping later (mostly "window") we got to enjoy a comedy show. The show was good but it was even funnier for us because one of the guys in our group managed to get wasted somewhere before the show and fell asleep in his chair in the front row while all of our bosses watched him. We took pictures, the comedians made fun of him. Embarassing for him - funny for us. Lesson learned: "When you are travelling on business, wait till your bosses go to bed before you start getting wasted!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;The rest of the night was spent gambling and drinking again. Most of my new friends had flights to catch at 4 or 5 am so they decided not to go to bed. Mine wasn't till 11am but I had to keep my friends company, so I stayed up too. Yes, I am a team player! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;I actually won some money that night but Adrian showed up again and gave me a few more chips to play with. Around 2 am he proposed to me. I still had a few chips left so we couldn't get married right then. We played some more. My friends needed to go take a shower before heading to the airport, so it was time for me to take a nap  for a couple of hours. Adrian inquired about that wedding that was in the works. I told him I was too tired. He said he would like me to come to visit him in Germany. I told him to email me :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116379695254006872?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116379695254006872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116379695254006872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116379695254006872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116379695254006872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2006/11/sin-city-installment-3.html' title='Sin City - Installment #3'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116377763805853826</id><published>2006-11-17T07:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T07:33:58.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sin City - Installment #2</title><content type='html'>Well, let me take a step back and tell you the story about an older guy that Rene and I encountered at a restaurant on Monday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was sitting at a table next to us by himself. We started chatting about nothing (we were starved, so a meaningless conversation was supposed to help suppress that hunger till our food arrived): where are you from, what are you here for, blah-blah-blah.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I live in Missouri&lt;br /&gt;Older Guy (OG): Oh... I think I have a sister in Missouri&lt;br /&gt;Me: You think? You must not have been keeping in contact&lt;br /&gt;OG: Well, it migh be her sons that live there&lt;br /&gt;Me: You don't know where your nephews live either?&lt;br /&gt;OG: She is not really my sister... My sister died and her soul reincarnated into this woman's body&lt;br /&gt;Me and Rene:?????(puzzled looks, suppressing giggles)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Changing the subject. We started talking about our flights to Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;OG: My son controls air traffic!&lt;br /&gt;Me: That sounds like a great job. He must be enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;OG: He is... He just turned 5 years old last month...&lt;br /&gt;Me and Rene:??????&lt;br /&gt;This is when I started drinking heavily so can't remember how it all ended...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;We had to do some work on Tuesday from 8am till about 5pm (it took a lot of Starbucks to get us going in the morning. Luckily, there was one in the building where we were meeting). Once we got done, Rene and I had a plan to just walk around the strip and check out different casinos. I won't go into details but we saw some amazing stuff! After eating good food and having a few drinks, we ended up back at our hotel/casino and decided to play some Black Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am a highroller so I had to wait for a table with $5 min. bets to open up :-) We were having a good time and I noticed this guy sitting at another black jack table who was staring at me. I was intrigued. He came over and took a seat at our table and introduced himself. His name was Adrian and he was from Germany, in Vegas on business. Shortly after that, I lost the amount of money I was planning on loosing that night so I was getting ready to go to sleep. As soon as I announced that I was leaving the table after my last chip is gone, Adrian started giving me his chips to play with just so I will stay longer. Loosing someone else's money is a lot more fun so I stayed... He was thrilled...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116377763805853826?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116377763805853826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116377763805853826' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116377763805853826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116377763805853826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2006/11/sin-city-installment-2.html' title='Sin City - Installment #2'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116346192891989936</id><published>2006-11-13T15:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T15:52:08.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sin City was a blast!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Well, I've been back from Vegas for a few days but was so exhausted from not sleeping for 3 nights :-) that I tried to take lots of naps for a while and then it turned out that I managed to catch a cold somewhere in my travels so I've been sicker than a dog for the last two days. I even left work after being there for only 2 hours today. Considering the fact that I've only taken 3 sick days in the last 8 years, it's pretty serious. I am planning on being better by tomorrow morning though!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Vegas... It was exactly what I expected and then some! I can't say that I've committed any sins that I can't share with the world (fortunately or unfortunately :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Monday night:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I arrived around 6:30pm and grabbed a cab to the hotel. Even though I didn't know anyone coming to this conference, I talked to one of the girls via email ahead of time. Rene and I agreed to get together and do something on Mon. night upon arrival.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;We freshened up and headed out to explore the city. Had dinner at Stack, a fabulous restaurant at the Mirage Casino. Met a crazy guy (remember this one, I'll give you a recap of our conversation with him some other time.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Rene said that a friend of hers was from Vegas, so she called a friend of a friend of a friend who was a concierge and knew about what was going on in the city. He put us on the VIP list at Jet (the hottest nightclub at the Mirage). We were seriously scared that the bouncers will kick us out because we had no tickets, we just knew a name to ask for, and then tell this guy we knew so and so. Amazingly, it worked! It was the coolest club I've ever been to. Even though we were pretty tired from the trip, we powered through it and danced till 3 am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;By the way, I was blown away by the guys with brooms, flashlights and dustpans at this club. They appeared out of nowhere within a second of someone dropping or spilling something! Unreal!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Needless to say, the next morning was rough but there was so little time and so many things to see and do...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;To be continued...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116346192891989936?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116346192891989936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116346192891989936' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116346192891989936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116346192891989936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2006/11/sin-city-was-blast.html' title='Sin City was a blast!'/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31130423.post-116278300421265345</id><published>2006-11-05T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T19:16:44.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6538/3353/1600/vegas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6538/3353/320/vegas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm off to Vegas tomorrow morning! I might tell you some stories when I get back... but you know what they say... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31130423-116278300421265345?l=girliemonkey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/feeds/116278300421265345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31130423&amp;postID=116278300421265345' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116278300421265345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31130423/posts/default/116278300421265345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girliemonkey.blogspot.com/2006/11/im-off-to-vegas-tomorrow-morning-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Girlie Monkey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12235435062142645212</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_VV_k_hhP1bk/R_UcdYDQuII/AAAAAAAAADM/xd07tNyrHUY/S220/black-spider-monkey.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
