<?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-6208052547777455766</id><updated>2011-11-20T09:21:00.995-08:00</updated><category term='ranty'/><category term='food'/><category term='weight'/><title type='text'>My first love</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-16121966785273098</id><published>2010-03-20T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T10:50:37.548-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Nature's Candy? Pffft.</title><content type='html'>I have a crazy sweet tooth. Getting fillings during four different dentist trips in 2008 and recently completing my 3rd root canal in two years can attest to that. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't drink the sugary sodas. But, I love chocolate. Usually, I go for good quality dark chocolate, but sometimes my father will bring home large bags of candy. Milk chocolate candy of suspect quality that can be found at your local drugstore under such names as Twix and Snickers. And, eventually, I just give in a start eating that stuff. Extraspecially if I've been stressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After contracting the stomach flu in January, I was able to lose those 5lbs that never seem to go away and my desire for sweets was greatly diminished. I was doing so well on eating reasonably.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then, stressors came my way. There was the 8:35 a.m. class that I really, really didn't like. I think it's the first class I've genuinely disliked in my recent college history. And that's another story for another day. Then there was also a group project I was doing that was chipping away at my sanity. Again another story for another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lost motivation to run and gained the motivation to power through candy bars. I put on 8lbs. Last week, I tried to put on a pair of jeans I normally wear and I had to &lt;i&gt;squeeze&lt;/i&gt; into them. By this time, I had at least started back to running. The specter of &lt;a href="http://mc200.com/"&gt;MC200&lt;/a&gt; was before me and while I will likely be the slowest person on the team, I don't want to be annoyingly slow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I got that going for me and I have managed to drop 3lbs and my pants are no longer so torturous to get into. However, my eating habits took a dive that will be hard to recover from. In addition to the sweets problem, I have also gotten back into eating past fullness. Sigh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, onto the title of this post: I was just craving sweets as I have a boatload of crap to do today. Luckily, there is no candy as my mother gave what was left of it to my brother, plus the lower-quality stuff always finds a way to my defective teeth and I have not been eating it in light of recent dental stuff. So, what I've been trying to do is eat fruit when I get a sweet's craving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just had a tiny tangerine. Yes, it was tasty. But, ya know what? I still want some chocolate. Lots of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-16121966785273098?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/16121966785273098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/03/natures-candy-pffft.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/16121966785273098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/16121966785273098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/03/natures-candy-pffft.html' title='Nature&apos;s Candy? Pffft.'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-3546883977217156962</id><published>2010-02-17T20:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T20:54:14.432-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those weeks</title><content type='html'>I don't know what it is about school always starting off slow and then, boom, you're going without adequate sleep. The funny part is you kinda like it. Or at least I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-3546883977217156962?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/3546883977217156962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/one-of-those-weeks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/3546883977217156962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/3546883977217156962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/one-of-those-weeks.html' title='One of those weeks'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-1525527537317877215</id><published>2010-02-11T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T21:24:44.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping in</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is the only day of the week, I can typically sleep in. I am very much looking forward to it. I had an exam today that I didn't really study for that was based on a book I couldn't get myself to finish. I think I did well enough and I'm just happy I don't have to pick up that book again. Here's hoping the next book is easier to digest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-1525527537317877215?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1525527537317877215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/sleeping-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/1525527537317877215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/1525527537317877215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/sleeping-in.html' title='Sleeping in'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-6314305147774424172</id><published>2010-02-07T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T18:37:49.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parents being people</title><content type='html'>Asked my mother when her and my father's wedding anniversary is and how many years they will have been married. She couldn't recall the years, so she went and (in her perfectly organized way) found their marriage certificate.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, she asked why I wanted to know. I told her that I always mean to get them something every year, but I either forget or have no money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She said, "Isn't 34 years a long time?&lt;i&gt;"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;I responded, "Well, it ain't 50."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Well, if you had been through the first half, you would see why I'm so surprised it's been this long."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Really?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yeah, that first half was rough."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Real talk on a Sunday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-6314305147774424172?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6314305147774424172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/parents-being-people.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/6314305147774424172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/6314305147774424172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/parents-being-people.html' title='Parents being people'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-7378341938610388893</id><published>2010-02-07T12:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T13:00:57.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy am I out of shape</title><content type='html'>Nothing like speedwork to let you know that yeah, you have not been running. I am so exhausted right now, I might just have to take a nap.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mostly, I'm just happy that I got through it. The thought of 6x400m at 5K pace terrified me. So much so that I kept putting it off and putting it off. I went three days without a run. Partly due to school stuff, but partly due to fear of that workout. And, as per usual these days, I've just been lacking the motivation to run.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, see, that's a funny thing. Had you told me back before I left my last full-time job that running would cease to be my be all, end all, I would've called you a boldface lie. Yet, now, it's a different story. Don't get me wrong, I feel super guilty when I slack off from running. Plus, I need to continue to fit into my smaller wardrobe since I gave all of my larger stuff away. However, it's not THE thing that defines me right now. I have different and more immediate goals ahead of me. I want to have a great life and I feel like now is the time to lay the foundation to make that happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to the running details. Yesterday, I was going to attempt the 6x400m on the treadmill. I made it through 3/4s of one 400 and felt like I was going to implode. So, I decided to just do my 5-miler, except I only made it to four total miles because I just was not feeling well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I thought I'd try to go outdoors because I don't get so fatigued (it seems) and bored outdoors. I was either going to do my 5-miler or the 6x400m I couldn't do the day before. I got out there and did my 2-mile warm-up, stretched my calves a bit, and went for it. The first interval was long and tiring. I know I'm working hard when I am extremely aware of my abdominal muscles. I didn't time the intervals. I don't really know if they were 5K pace or not. I do know that my old 5K pace is not my now (slower) 5K pace. I just ran them at what felt like 5K effort and it was tough, so I assume I did it correctly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The funny thing about intervals is they tend to suck for the first two, then you get into a rhythm and they suck much less. All in all, they are a good way to break up the running week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only bad thing about today's run was the dogs. As I was doing my cooldown, I saw a dog with no owner up ahead. Growing up, I have nothing but trouble with dogs. Many people wonder why I am so skittish around dogs, but if you grew up in my neighborhood at the time I did they would know why. The dog next door to my parent's house is the reason it took me until last year to learn how to ride a bike. There were also two dogs that attacked people (ripping one boys calf muscle) and a small dog (that nearly died) regularly. So, yeah, leash-less dogs without owners scare the crap out of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, when I saw the dog today with no apparent owner in sight, I stopped running and crossed 4 lanes of traffic (having to saddle the median while whizzed by) and started running on the other side of the Drive. I run about two and a half blocks and there is another dog without an owner! So, I once again cross 4 lanes of traffic. The rest of my run was free of doggies. I made it home in one piece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-7378341938610388893?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/7378341938610388893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/boy-am-i-out-of-shape.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/7378341938610388893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/7378341938610388893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/boy-am-i-out-of-shape.html' title='Boy am I out of shape'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-8684179652867197879</id><published>2010-02-04T21:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T21:20:09.732-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Phew!</title><content type='html'>A lot things came together perfectly this week. I've been having a really good year. *knocks on wood*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shamrock Shuffle training is coming along. I seem to get busy on two days and end up smooshing my runs together, but hey, some run is better than no run. I look forward to racing (not at previous speeds, I know) again. Actually, a non-certified race is coming up at school, so I may get to race sooner than later. If only they had age groups, I'd be a shoe-in to win or at least place in mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is hoping I can get myself out of constant mission critical mode by being productive over the weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-8684179652867197879?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8684179652867197879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/phew.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/8684179652867197879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/8684179652867197879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/phew.html' title='Phew!'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-7976972462308554017</id><published>2010-02-03T09:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T09:45:05.614-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The importance of touch</title><content type='html'>I was just talking to a girl at school who is from (I think) Chechnya. It was a very touchy feely encounter, but I liked it. Which is kinda odd because we Americans are quite protective of our personal space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, just this past weekend, I went to a group event that was big on teamwork. And, since I've become the opinionated type in my later years, I made a lot of very direct comments that were likely seen as me being bitchy. And, I'm okay with that. At any rate, it was all pretty heated, but at the end of it the only other female at the table gave me the biggest and most sincere hug a person I have just met has ever given me. It totally made that day worthwhile for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah. Touch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-7976972462308554017?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/7976972462308554017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/importance-of-touch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/7976972462308554017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/7976972462308554017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/importance-of-touch.html' title='The importance of touch'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-2585796616065000026</id><published>2010-02-01T17:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T17:26:57.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Then I went here and couldn't help but smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.enjoyandexciting.com/2010/01/this-i-decree.html"&gt;Do it live!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-2585796616065000026?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/2585796616065000026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/then-i-went-here-and-couldnt-help-but.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/2585796616065000026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/2585796616065000026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/then-i-went-here-and-couldnt-help-but.html' title='Then I went here and couldn&apos;t help but smile'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-5428967272444364075</id><published>2010-02-01T17:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T17:22:34.010-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ranty'/><title type='text'>Because I am an a-hole</title><content type='html'>Unless someone tells you how they're feeling, you just don't know. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, unless you tell me what you're thinking, I am not going to know. I don't divine things out of the ether. I have not acquired those powers...yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*primal scream*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-5428967272444364075?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/5428967272444364075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/because-i-am-a-hole.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/5428967272444364075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/5428967272444364075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/02/because-i-am-a-hole.html' title='Because I am an a-hole'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-5227694601402321184</id><published>2010-01-30T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T12:55:55.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being social</title><content type='html'>For as much as I can love socializing, I can only take so much of it before I begin to zone out and get cranky. Yesterday, I spent about 8 hours listening and talking. Then, today, I had a long group activity at a workshop. Stick a big fork in me because I am done, done, done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also sleepy from not sleeping a lot between Thursday and Friday. But, I have a lot I would like to accomplish this weekend. Need to accomplish this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day this semester will become calm and predictable, I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-5227694601402321184?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/5227694601402321184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/being-social.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/5227694601402321184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/5227694601402321184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/being-social.html' title='Being social'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-8111859903606441988</id><published>2010-01-28T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T20:29:20.792-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God</title><content type='html'>Religion is a personal topic for many people. I think it's mostly to not cause unpleasant disagreements. But, I am genuinely unsure of the existence of a higher being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I even bring this up is that yesterday, a woman from one of my classes spoke with me at great length about God and her church. Overall, I found her a tad off-putting for various reasons. But, she could possibly be an okay person. I don't know. The jury is out on that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, today, I was at Starbucks in between classes and a man comes over to me and starts talking to me about religion and God and Jesus and why what Jesus did was so important. And, I dunno, it's just all overwhelming because nearly everyday (in recent history) I question God's existence and suddenly, in rapid succession two people are engaging me about this topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be a coincidence, but maybe it's not. I don't know. I am always skeptical of people's motives. I am contemplating attending a service at the church this guy was from: It's called&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newlifechicago.mobi/Bridgeport/default.aspx"&gt;New Life&lt;/a&gt;. It certainly wouldn't hurt to just go take a look...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Added 1/30/2010***&lt;br /&gt;One thing I didn't like about my encounter with the guy from New Life is that he didn't seem to be interested in engaging me on other topics that confuse me. I feel like he hit on some of the points for my undecidedness (these being the same for probably most people), but that he shied away from others. Then, and this is one thing that always makes me cringe, at the end, he gave me one of those little religious books. I hate those things. I own a Bible, I don't need someone's interpretation of scripture snippets explaining what stuff means to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-8111859903606441988?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8111859903606441988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/god.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/8111859903606441988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/8111859903606441988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/god.html' title='God'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-1942572476561995615</id><published>2010-01-27T22:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T22:53:37.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reoccurring themes</title><content type='html'>So far, this semester, I have had an overload on the ethical considerations questions. I guess it doesn't help that I have two psychology courses this semester. But, I also have to answer ethical questions for my communications course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the grand scheme of things, yes, ethics is important. And, yes, workplaces need to institute some ethical standards because, as a former employee of many a company, things can get murky at times. And, as my DISC assessment has told me, I am an ardent rule follower. And, it's so true. Put a standard in front of me with some kind of plausible reason, I will totally lockstep. For better or for worse this is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, there was another theme I meant to touch upon that I have forgotten. Likely because I need to be in bed. I have two big things to do tomorrow though, so I want to stay awake, but, eh, I'm out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My excitement for this semester is waning though. I look forward to Spring Break. Some warmer weather would also definitely help my mood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-1942572476561995615?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/1942572476561995615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/reoccurring-themes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/1942572476561995615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/1942572476561995615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/reoccurring-themes.html' title='Reoccurring themes'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-6603183348340409510</id><published>2010-01-27T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T17:18:25.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Point of reference</title><content type='html'>For those who have watched me blog jump throughout the years, here is a quick overview of what is going on with me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm in school full-time. Yay!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I should graduate this December. Double yay!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My marathoning has been scaled way back. Oh noes!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am currently training for the Shamrock Shuffle. This breaks my "I hate big races" ethos. But, Nettie needs the carrot stick.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am anti- many conventional things. We may or may not get into this at a later date.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Overall, I'm pretty darn happy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Anything missing here?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-6603183348340409510?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/6603183348340409510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/point-of-reference.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/6603183348340409510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/6603183348340409510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/point-of-reference.html' title='Point of reference'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6208052547777455766.post-8856597296996381416</id><published>2010-01-27T17:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T17:11:19.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We are back</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I stopped blogging. With the introduction of Twitter and my finally becoming comfortable with it, my blogging went to the wayside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I started a blog for another purpose. And, ya know what? Blogging felt good. It felt right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, long live the blog. I have things to say that don't fit neatly into 140 characters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6208052547777455766-8856597296996381416?l=myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/feeds/8856597296996381416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-are-back.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/8856597296996381416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6208052547777455766/posts/default/8856597296996381416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myfirstloveisblogging.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-are-back.html' title='We are back'/><author><name>Antoinette</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_apsev3TTCDI/SIKaH1Ne0xI/AAAAAAAABdA/wCAqZoTYJmE/S220/Pop+Skirt2.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
