<?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-13678075</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:36:55.481-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just me...</title><subtitle type='html'>Everyone's got a little crazy in them, it's just harder to find in some people.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>174</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-9141321921388134684</id><published>2008-01-15T22:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T22:36:57.635-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!!!</title><content type='html'>Hey Everyone,&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you had a Happy New Year! I've been so busy that I'll tell you about everything soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love ya'll!&lt;br /&gt;SP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R417qGNjrrI/AAAAAAAAABc/hXsM-6GrNAM/s1600-h/DSC00035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155913111561285298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R417qGNjrrI/AAAAAAAAABc/hXsM-6GrNAM/s320/DSC00035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R417qWNjrsI/AAAAAAAAABk/IynF55D5Ink/s1600-h/DSC00039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155913115856252610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R417qWNjrsI/AAAAAAAAABk/IynF55D5Ink/s320/DSC00039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R417qmNjrtI/AAAAAAAAABs/fDM3fgMJTOI/s1600-h/DSC00046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155913120151219922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R417qmNjrtI/AAAAAAAAABs/fDM3fgMJTOI/s320/DSC00046.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-9141321921388134684?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/9141321921388134684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=9141321921388134684' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/9141321921388134684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/9141321921388134684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!!!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R417qGNjrrI/AAAAAAAAABc/hXsM-6GrNAM/s72-c/DSC00035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-8218428823558008846</id><published>2007-12-25T17:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T00:12:52.715-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Cuban Christmas Christmas!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy Holidays to Everyone! I hope your homes are filled with Joy, Love, and lots of good food!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150000015336517266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R3h5umNjrpI/AAAAAAAAABM/yIYSa91nJgo/s320/Christmas+Dinner.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R3h5umNjrqI/AAAAAAAAABU/zl1wmvMn9YI/s1600-h/Christmas+Dinner2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150000015336517282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R3h5umNjrqI/AAAAAAAAABU/zl1wmvMn9YI/s320/Christmas+Dinner2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-8218428823558008846?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/8218428823558008846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=8218428823558008846' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8218428823558008846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8218428823558008846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/12/its-christmas.html' title='It&apos;s a Cuban Christmas Christmas!!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R3h5umNjrpI/AAAAAAAAABM/yIYSa91nJgo/s72-c/Christmas+Dinner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-867226988550329834</id><published>2007-12-05T15:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T15:28:55.115-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a Laughing Matter!</title><content type='html'>I heard the worst "joke" at work.  It's not so much a joke as just something that made the guys laugh and me roll my eyes.  Let me tell you a little bit about the guys I work with...  they are nerds.  Not just nerds, dorks, geeks, weirdos even!  I'm talking about guys in shorts and sandals and socks with t-shirts that say "Luke, use the force!"  Guys that don't look like they know what gel is, or a comb for that matter.  Needless to say, these are not guys I'd hang out with... Well, one of them said something that everyone found very amusing.  Now, Shelly and Ben will get it(although you will probably roll your eyes like me), but tell me, do any of you non-software developers even get this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our boss was talking about something and one guy gave a very sarcastic remark.  So another guys says "You know, it's getting harder and harder to Parse the scarcasim from your everyday speech lately."  Everyone laughed except for me, who silently though "you have got to be kidding me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another example of bad humor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One guy has been working on something that they have had a few releases of already... He was on version 4, I think.  Everyone was saying how he'd have to do another release and how he'd never escape it because the requirements just keep growing.  So someone says "how many iterations of this are we going to have?"  Another guys says "N + 1" and everyone laughs hysterically except for me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-867226988550329834?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/867226988550329834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=867226988550329834' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/867226988550329834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/867226988550329834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/12/not-laughing-matter.html' title='Not a Laughing Matter!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-7105088942322498580</id><published>2007-11-28T16:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T16:23:36.218-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanna Buy a House????</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://homepics.realtor.com/image3/http/southeastflorida/listings/large/056/v02/f858924_101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://homepics.realtor.com/image3/http/southeastflorida/listings/large/056/v02/f858924_101.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been in Chicago for nearly 3 months now.  Do ya'll know what that means???  That means that for 3 months I've been paying my morgage in Florida along with Rent up here!!!!  It's really starting to get to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the house is for sale!  It's a 2bdrm/ 2.5bath townhouse in a nice quiet gated community.  There is a pool, gym and tennis courts.  There is plenty of parking and a private fenced in back yard.  So, Who wants to buy my house?  Anyone?  Anyone?  I'll give you a good deal!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-7105088942322498580?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/7105088942322498580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=7105088942322498580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7105088942322498580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7105088942322498580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/11/wanna-buy-house.html' title='Wanna Buy a House????'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-6418042930319256530</id><published>2007-11-24T13:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T13:34:01.072-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Turkey Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R0huhqbT9OI/AAAAAAAAAA8/18csRpkLTPw/s1600-h/feast3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136476899619632354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R0huhqbT9OI/AAAAAAAAAA8/18csRpkLTPw/s320/feast3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R0huhqbT9PI/AAAAAAAAABE/Lxqy--1SwFg/s1600-h/thanksgiving+snow2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136476899619632370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R0huhqbT9PI/AAAAAAAAABE/Lxqy--1SwFg/s320/thanksgiving+snow2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wishing everyone a Happy Turkey Day from Chicago!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-6418042930319256530?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/6418042930319256530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=6418042930319256530' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/6418042930319256530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/6418042930319256530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/11/happy-turkey-day.html' title='Happy Turkey Day!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/R0huhqbT9OI/AAAAAAAAAA8/18csRpkLTPw/s72-c/feast3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-495275365909493268</id><published>2007-11-19T16:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T16:18:35.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I know, I've been bad.  But I'm trying to get better...  so you want the latest updates?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved into my fabulous one bedroom apartment located on the third floor.  I thought I was gonna die when i was moving in.  What was I thinking when I picked a place with no elevator??  At least my legs look good!  I have realized that I am going to have to kill my dog, though.  First off, it's 3 flight to walk him!  Secondly, he must have realized that he just loves the cold weather, because he always wants to go out and take a leasurly stroll around the block when it's 30 degrees!!  Either he need to learn to use a litter box(he's 13 lbs) or he's gonna have to be happy going once a day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is good.  I am not nearly as stressed as I was before.  I almost actually like it.  Unfortunatly, I am doing a good job and getting praise for it. "Unfortunatly?" you ask?  Well, now that they think i'm so good, they want to move me on to other work.  Harder work.  "Actual" work.  Damn me and my work ethics!  Why can't I just learn to slack off more??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tico?  You want to hear about that drama?  Well, it's never ending with him isn't it?  So he was moving here, then he wasn't moving here, then he was gonna visit, then i was gonna tell him to kiss my black ass and never speak to me again... and now, he's here...  I really don't get the progression of things either so lets just leave it at that.  Right now we are ok.  We argue, but who doesn't.  I don't really know if I can trust him, being as I've caught him in a couple of lies, and I'm not sure if I'm going to let him stay or not.  But for right now he is here.  Who knows what the future will bring with that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else is there to update you on?  Oh yeah, I turned 30...  30!  I know that nothing has changed and that it's completely a mental thing, but &lt;b&gt;THIRTY&lt;/b&gt;!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... anything else... Did I mention that I've been freezing my butt off for the last month or so and everyone just keeps saying to me, "It's not even winter yet!"  and iIjust want to smack them?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-495275365909493268?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/495275365909493268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=495275365909493268' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/495275365909493268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/495275365909493268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-know-ive-been-bad.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-8898933540569795386</id><published>2007-10-09T18:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T19:10:44.048-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Chicago update</title><content type='html'>Alright... I know it's been a while but I've been really busy...  Plus I won't have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; access till the 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, so I'm trying to do this at work...  So lets see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicago is good.  The only thing that's not so great is the damn weather.  Last weekend I was sweating my ass off!  I thought I was back in South Florida.  And today I had on long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sleeves&lt;/span&gt; and a jacket just to walk the dog.  I am so going to get sick...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The job is good...  They are paying me more money than my last "real" job to do less work...  Well, maybe not so much less work... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, yeah, less work... but really it's not the quantity of the work.  It's the fact that the work is easy and I'm not stressed!  I come in, do what I gotta do, and go home... No nightmares about code... no dreams about performance tests and audit logs than can run on forever...  I'm good here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the apartment is great!  I love it!  It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; cute.  It's a one bedroom with a separate dinning and living room.  And it has a sun room!  Plus it's on the third floor.  I can feel my pants getting a little big already.  The only negative is that when the dog has to pee in the middle of the night, he better hold it!  Pictures will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one more bit of news...  Now don't yell at me... Tico is coming up.  I still love him... I have to give him a chance to prove himself.  He knows he did wrong and was the cause of all of our issues, which is a good thing.  Plus, I am at the point where he has one shot and one shot only.  I have no problems telling him to pack his shit and sending him back to Miami on his own if he fucks up.  Basically he has 6 months... If I don't like where we are in 6 months time, he's gone.  I do love him and I want it to work out, but I'm not stupid and I'm not going to just let things go...  So, I'll keep you updated on that front as well... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, gotta get back to work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-8898933540569795386?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/8898933540569795386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=8898933540569795386' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8898933540569795386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8898933540569795386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-chicago-update.html' title='My Chicago update'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-3820588743831553804</id><published>2007-09-22T20:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T21:16:51.729-04:00</updated><title type='text'>in Chicago</title><content type='html'>I know... it's been crazy. So, i'm up in the northern suburbs of Chi.cago right now. I've been here for a few weeks already and things are ok. I'm staying in an exte.nded stay hotel right now. I move into my fabulous new apartment on the 1st of the month. I'm so very excited about that. My commute to work will either be a 55min train ride, or a 1h10min car ride, depending on what I want to do... right now, i'm not so sure yet. I need to actually try it to see how i like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is alright... It's fairly easy stuff that I am picking up quickly. But there has been an incident already... Ok, let me give you a little background. it's a 3 year old company and up until 2.5 months ago, the development team has been all male. They hired a young girl, straight out of college who started two months before me. The first week, i was in training... I didn't even meet the developers. The second week there, i worked for a few days before "the incident". Anyone who works in development or engineering knows how people tend to email around articles about new things in the industry or anything that they think you as a group might find useful. Well, they do that here... So, my boss sent one out. Only, it wasn't anything useful, interestng about the industry, or even new and exciting. It was basically an article saying that women were stupid and you had to dumb things down for them to get them interested in technology... Ummm, WHAT? WTF! Yeah, ummm, yeah... I pretty much ignored it. I mean, hey, it's my first week! By the other girl had a fit. She went to HR who went to his boss, who went to him. Then they ALL wanted to talk to her AND to me(being the only women in the group.) I couldn't believe this shit! Anyway, interesting first week, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, i guess that's about it for now. I'm exploring Chicago this weekend... I can't wait until I feel like I actually live here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-3820588743831553804?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/3820588743831553804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=3820588743831553804' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/3820588743831553804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/3820588743831553804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/09/in-chicago.html' title='in Chicago'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-5761008935123108419</id><published>2007-08-26T16:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T16:36:16.642-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I know it's been forever since I last posted.  I've finally just responded to everyone's comments on the last post, but it's not my fault!  No internet and the woman at star.bucks keeps hitting on me, so I didn't want to go back there... I wouldn't mind that much if her much larger girlfriend didn't come in giving me the evil eye. LOL! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I'm alive... I'm NOT packed yet... And I leave on Tuesday. I'm at Tico's grandmother's house right now because they are thowing me a going away party. What can I say, they love me. And I just saw ShellyP and the babies, minus 1 who was at his grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is good. I'll get into detail when I get internet acess in Sept in chicago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-5761008935123108419?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/5761008935123108419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=5761008935123108419' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/5761008935123108419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/5761008935123108419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-know-its-been-forever-since-i-last.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-7315750593236341963</id><published>2007-08-09T16:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T16:39:21.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee house fun...</title><content type='html'>I don't really have time to post.  I don't have internet access so I'm at the ghetto Star.bucks down the street.  Let me just tell you, the guys working here are flirting with some pre-teens in tight booty shorts.  These girls are acutally asking to sample stuff! "What dat berries and cream fra-pa-chee-knee taste like?" And this man is actually making them little cups of stuff! The size of those little paper cups people have in their bathrooms!  I swear I am going to have to hang out here everyday!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on another note, I found an apartment in chicago and am getting my house all ready to be put on the market.  In some suprising news, I saw Tico for the first time in a few weeks.  And ya'll won't believe what he had to say!  "I missed you so much...  I love you.. I want to be with you..."  And NO, he doesn't know about chicago or the new job.  I'm a little skeptical because I don't know where this is coming from...  Why now?  What has changed?  Anyway, don't worry about me.  I can handle him, for now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-7315750593236341963?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/7315750593236341963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=7315750593236341963' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7315750593236341963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7315750593236341963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/08/coffee-house-fun.html' title='Coffee house fun...'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-3598894742131946957</id><published>2007-08-01T20:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T20:40:43.448-04:00</updated><title type='text'>CHICAGO</title><content type='html'>I'm moving to Chicago!!!!!!  This time next month, I won't be a florida resident anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-3598894742131946957?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/3598894742131946957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=3598894742131946957' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/3598894742131946957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/3598894742131946957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/08/chicago.html' title='CHICAGO'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-3207518814061483374</id><published>2007-07-25T23:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T08:41:33.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Change is in the air</title><content type='html'>Wow has it been crazy. Some stuff went down that has got me really thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tico&lt;/span&gt; and I broke up. I know. You are thinking "Weren't you already broken up?" Well, yes and no. You know how you can be broken up but still sort of be together? We still talked on the phone and still saw each other. Well, now we are really broken up. I tried not to meet his son, but for some reason last week he felt the need to bring him over. (I get attached to kids easily...) It was alright. He was cute and loved playing with the dog. And they didn't stay long. But besides that, we had some words on Sunday and Monday, and I think we are pretty much done. I even changed the locks on the house, which pissed him off. Hey, he should have gotten his shit earlier, huh? I told him that if he hadn't needed it by now, he would be good till I got back in a month or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I made it to Ohio safely.  My emotional state has kept me a little up and down at times.  Sometimes I'm good, and other times my chest hurts and I get so worked up.  When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; happens, I just need someone to talk to.  I tried to call Shel, but would she answer the phone?  NO!  That's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, Shel, I got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;a hold&lt;/span&gt; of someone else.  It's the worst in the day time when the people I'm staying with are at work.  I know what you are thinking, why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; you work?  I am, I will.  I went out and applied for some jobs yesterday.  We'll see how that goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm off to Chicago!  I have been playing phone tag with some recruiters in Chicago for the last week or so.  Finally I spoke to them the day before yesterday.  Yesterday morning I sent them a nicely crafted cover letter and resume.  It was mostly crap, but It all sounded good.  Well &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; the company loved it.  They want to interview me...  IN CHICAGO.  So I'm going to drive over on Monday, interview Tuesday, and spend Wednesday with friends. I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;nervous&lt;/span&gt; because I don't think I interview well.  So, I've got to study up a little bit and try to get back some of my programing skills I haven't used in this past year...  Wish me luck!  If it all works out, I could be living in Chicago this time next month...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-3207518814061483374?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/3207518814061483374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=3207518814061483374' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/3207518814061483374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/3207518814061483374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/07/change-is-in-air.html' title='Change is in the air'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-5677572380359176421</id><published>2007-07-13T18:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T18:26:55.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'>9 days...</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone,&lt;br /&gt;In exactly 9 days, I will leaving town. I'm moving to Ohio for a while. I've been going through so much lately. I just really feel like i need a break for it all. I need to clear my head. Part of it is that I need to spend some away from Tico. We have been going through so many ups and downs lately. I really just need some time by myself. A good friend of mine is in Ohio, so I can stay with her.  And who knows, maybe I'll find a great job and love it up there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-5677572380359176421?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/5677572380359176421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=5677572380359176421' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/5677572380359176421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/5677572380359176421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/07/9-days.html' title='9 days...'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-8368785836694586847</id><published>2007-06-22T18:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T18:23:01.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dilemma</title><content type='html'>I have a really big dilemma right now...  I'm trying to decide what to do.  Ok, here's the deal.  My roommate moved out and so did Tico.  So I'm all on my own now.   I'm not making enough to pay my mortgage.  So, What do I do?  Here are my options:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Get a new roommate  &lt;br /&gt;            PRO – I can resume living my semi-carefree lifestyle.&lt;br /&gt;            CON – I was really getting sick of my roommate and couldn’t wait for her to go in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Get another job&lt;br /&gt;            PRO – Ummm, is there a pro…  Well, I won’t be bored and I’ll probably lose weight.&lt;br /&gt;            CON – I won’t have time for anything and I’ll be tired all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Sell my house and leave FLA&lt;br /&gt;            PRO – I’ll have a fresh start…&lt;br /&gt;            CON – I still don’t know what to do with myself and where would I go???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally…&lt;br /&gt;4. Call up my old boss and ask for my job back&lt;br /&gt;            PRO – I’ll get to stay here, keep my house, and my privacy&lt;br /&gt;            CON – I’ll never live it down…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll have to decide soon…  Very soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, I forgot, Tico and I aren’t together anymore.  I told him that I’m not gonna sit around and wait for him while he sorts himself out.  Who knows what the future holds.  We might get back together and we might not.  Only time will tell, but in the mean time, I’m not going to sit around worried about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-8368785836694586847?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/8368785836694586847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=8368785836694586847' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8368785836694586847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8368785836694586847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/06/dilemma.html' title='Dilemma'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-5136723380799981936</id><published>2007-05-26T14:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T14:24:55.574-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey!  Where did the sun go???</title><content type='html'>I don't really have time or energy right now to talk.  Everything is just crazy right now.  I'll give you a short re-cap, but I can't really provide details at this point.  Let's see...  I don't have a job.  My roommate is moving out.  Tico is moving out, but we are still seeing each other.  And the dog is finally healthy after weeks issues.  I have no idea what is going to happen right now, but I'll try to keep you informed...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-5136723380799981936?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/5136723380799981936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=5136723380799981936' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/5136723380799981936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/5136723380799981936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/05/hey-where-did-sun-go.html' title='Hey!  Where did the sun go???'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-7572417619316583145</id><published>2007-05-15T20:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T21:14:53.707-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sun is shinning...</title><content type='html'>and life is good. Actually it's all thunderstormy out and the sky is still smokey from the wild flowers, but whatever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are going pretty well. I am still jobless, but i've had a couple of interviews lately that went well. I'm optomistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tico came back from NY and we worked out a lot of the issues. I told him how i felt unappreciated and he told me how sorry he was. He told me about how stressed he was under and that he wasn't thinking about how it was affecting me. We discussed our need for better communication and what we both want/need out of our relationship. We are doing great right now. We'll see how it goes from here.  And Yes, he is paying rent...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So other than that, not much to tell...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-7572417619316583145?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/7572417619316583145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=7572417619316583145' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7572417619316583145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7572417619316583145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/05/sun-is-shinning.html' title='The Sun is shinning...'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-6719403431790884151</id><published>2007-05-04T18:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T18:48:59.119-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sorry for not updating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ya'll&lt;/span&gt;. Haven't really been up to much of anything. Laying on the couch watching TV right now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;contemplating&lt;/span&gt; life. I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; much to think about right now. And believe it or not, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Tico&lt;/span&gt; isn't even my biggest concern. Right now I have to get a job. I was going over my money and realized that time has come and past for me to get on the ball. That plus the fact that my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;roommate&lt;/span&gt; leaves next month, so the rent checks end soon. I don't really want to be an engineer again, but it's looking like my best option right now. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; want to be a waitress again. Not because I didn't like it, but mainly because I don't want to get home at 4am anymore. I really have no idea what I want to do still. I just know that I have to do something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Tico&lt;/span&gt;, he calls me every day, several times a day. He is spending time with his father and his son. I know that you guys are concerned and I thank you for that. I know that it would be so much easier if I just walked away, but it's much harder to do than it sounds. Maybe it's my fault for getting so attached so fast. Maybe I should have run when I first found out about all of his drama. But I didn't. I don't know why I didn't. When I think back on it all, I sometimes think I should have left. But then I love him... I miss him right now. I can't imagine him not being around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn - You don't have to say what you really think.  I already &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I would say the same thing to any friend of mine that told me this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Aziza&lt;/span&gt; - I'm trying to evaluate things now. My gut is all confused too!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Miz&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;JJ&lt;/span&gt; - I'm watching and waiting to see.  I believe him and so far, he's always told me the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ShellyP&lt;/span&gt; - Thanks for the email.  It's way too much to reply to here.  But I will say, she does know about me.  He told her right before going up there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-6719403431790884151?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/6719403431790884151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=6719403431790884151' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/6719403431790884151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/6719403431790884151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/05/sorry-for-not-updating-yall.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-3819966659358581202</id><published>2007-04-27T19:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T19:47:55.691-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been having a few issues lately.  I am pretty upset with Tico.  Maybe upset is not so much the word as hurt.  See, next week he is going to NY to see his family.  By family, I mean, see his Dad, sisters, uncle, and cousins.  He is also going to be spending time with his son.  I'm cool with that.  But of course that means spending time with his wife.  Yup, I said WIFE.  STILL MARRIED!  That really really bothers me.  What hurts me the most is that she doesn't even know about me.  They haven't been together in years and they have both been in serious relationships since splitting.  She even called him the other day to chat about an upcoming date.  Why doesn't she know about me, you ask?  Well, the initial plan was for Tico's son to come visit here.  There were having some issues planning that and at one point i asked "Does she know you live with me?"  His response... "No, she doesn't even know we are together."  I think I dropped what I was holding at the time.  Aparently she had been giving him a hard time about how "No other women is gonna raise my son." and was threatening to not let him come down.  So what does Tico do?  He changes his status on myspace to single and deletes all of my pictures.  Aparently she was checking his myspace page almost daily and emailing him stuff about it.  WHAT THE F*CK??  I though I didn't have to worry about this one...  She was acually supposed to be the easy one.  The pregnant one down here is supposed to be the one giving me all of the problems.  Oh, and she IS.  At this point they aren't even speaking and she looks like she is about to pop any minute now.  But that's another one of my issues.  Back to the wife thing.  I was telling Tico how upset I was and he didn't get it.  He acually didn't understand why I was so upset.  Do ya'll understand why it upsets me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend started yelling at me when she heard all of this.  She can't believe that I am ok with all of this and that I put up with it.  We've been together for 6 month now.  He lives with me.  She's right when she says I deserve more that this.  Tico said that when he was in NY he was gonna see about getting a divorce.  I think I have made a critical decision.  If he doesn't do it when he is there next week, I think I'm going to have to ask him to move out.  I mean, if he doesn't take care of this, then he can't possibly love me, right?  He can't be serious about us, can he?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-3819966659358581202?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/3819966659358581202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=3819966659358581202' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/3819966659358581202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/3819966659358581202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/04/ive-been-having-few-issues-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-4265502740282781568</id><published>2007-04-12T16:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T16:37:58.389-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's my baby looking sad...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/Rh6YkiCKWzI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xqryOIl4bHw/s1600-h/neo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052643585334860594" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/Rh6YkiCKWzI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xqryOIl4bHw/s320/neo2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/Rh6X6iCKWwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/pBq-uXHeaYY/s1600-h/Neo1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052642863780354818" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/Rh6X6iCKWwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/pBq-uXHeaYY/s320/Neo1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-4265502740282781568?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/4265502740282781568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=4265502740282781568' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/4265502740282781568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/4265502740282781568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/04/heres-my-baby-looking-sad.html' title='Here&apos;s my baby looking sad...'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/Rh6YkiCKWzI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xqryOIl4bHw/s72-c/neo2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-8713592907449739859</id><published>2007-04-02T20:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T20:38:18.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My baby</title><content type='html'>I have the saddest picture in the world to post. My poor little doggie had some minor surgery. Well, it wasn't so much surgery as just a little cut, however it then required me to force feed him pills and for him to have to wear a little plastic cone. The funny thing is that it's not so much a little plastic cone as it it a huge plastic THING that hinders him from going up and down the stairs, eating and drinking, and he is now constantly bumping into things. It's actually pretty funny. As soon as I get some batteries for my digital camera, I'll post a picture of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-8713592907449739859?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/8713592907449739859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=8713592907449739859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8713592907449739859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8713592907449739859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-baby.html' title='My baby'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-754694306314351982</id><published>2007-03-01T23:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T00:02:11.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thing have been going ok.  I say just ok because some things are good and some are not so good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been sick lately, but I am just now starting to get better.  First I was all nauseous and had headaches constantly.  Then I had a throat ache, stuffy nose, fever...  You know, all the good stuff.  I'm feeling much better now, but Tico is starting to get sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roommate and I are having slight issues.  It all started when I told her that her dogs have got to go.  They are little Yorkies and cute as a button.  It's funny because one has a lot of silver in his hair and the other one is more black.  My boyfriend refers to the first one as the "light skinned one".  LOL!  Anyway, I really didn't have an issue with the dogs...  Well, until they started peeing on my couch!  I started when I got back from south East Asia.  Actually I suspect that she would leave them out instead of locked up in her room when she went to work and they started the pee-fest while I was on vacation.  As annoyed as I was when I got back, I didn't say anything and tried to get over it.  After all, the dogs belonged to her mother who died a year and a half ago.  Plus, she is homesick and a bit lonely.  I figured she needed them around.  Then the complex manager saw all 3 dogs and "kindly" let me know that we are only allowed 2 pets.  Really?  Ummm, I totally forgot that from when I moved in.  After all, who pays attention to that?  I wasn't EVER planning on having a second dog, let alone a third.  So, I let her know they had to go.  She was going to send them back with a friend of hers that was coming for a visit.  The friend came and went, the dogs were still here.  Then her sister came and went, the dogs were still here.  Then she was scheduled to go home...  why was her trip postponed and the dogs were still here???  At this point the manager was asking me if I had taken care of the "dog situation" and kindly reminded me of how having a pet was a privilege, not a right and I could be barred from having any pets at all!  I was a bit pissed at this point since I didn't want to lose my dog.  Next thing I know my roommate IS going home and she was scheduled to take the dogs.  Why at the last minute does she tell me she can't take both, only one because of the airline?  Bitch, you knew that way before!  Why didn't you tell me???  Anyway, now there is tension...  Just a bit, but ya'll know how much I hate conflict...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else is going on?  Oh, well, I am still on the job hunt.  I am being very picky.  I am interviewing with places, but I want to try to find a job I will enjoy, not just any job.  My savings account is dwindling down, so I'd better start being unpicky very soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got some bad news today.  Tico's grandmother went into the hospital.  She is very sick, but has been for years.  Back in November she was in for an infection in her leg.  I didn't get to go to the hospital, so I don’t know all the details.  I do know that her brain is swelling so they are keeping her in the hospital.  She has had a liver transplant and has a variety of health problems.  At first they thought she had a blood clot, but thank god she doesn't.  I just hope she gets better soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is also baby news.  Tico's ex-girlfriend is pregnant.  She is due in about 2 months.  Wait... Is everyone still breathing?  Cuz I think I stopped for a few minutes, hours, days... when I heard.  My first though is that I can't be mad at him because it happened before we got together.  I thought I got used to the idea of it, but now I am second guessing myself.  Should I really be with him?  I dunno.  Would it be better if he tried to work it out with this girl?  He says he wouldn't even if I weren't around.  At my age, almost every guy I meet has kids.  This one is just a little younger than I'd like, right?  Almost everyone now days has step-parents or half-siblings, right?  Just because I never did and never wanted my kids to doesn't mean I should leave, right?  The closer it gets to her due date, the more and more I ask myself these questions.  She has a myspace page.  Sometimes I go and look at the pictures of her ever growing belly.  Sometimes I think I'm a little bit jealous of her.  She's only 23 and is so happy to be having a baby.  I'm nearly 30 and I always though that I'd be married and have kids by now.  I wanted to be done by now and I'm not even close to getting started.  I don't know what the future holds for us or what I am even doing right now.  This whole baby thing is just a bit much for me to handle...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-754694306314351982?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/754694306314351982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=754694306314351982' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/754694306314351982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/754694306314351982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/03/thing-have-been-going-ok.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-1596124517948703629</id><published>2007-02-13T11:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T11:18:49.372-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sorry</title><content type='html'>I know I've been gone for a while. Sorry about that. I've been busy since coming home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically,Tico lives with me. Things are going really well with us. My parents like him and my sister is looking forward to meeting him. His father keeps asking when we are going to come visit and we go spend time with his grandmother down in Miami at least twice a week. The only issue we really have is that he doesn't really like my roommate and can't stand her dogs. She is only here for 3 more months so i just try to get him to be patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on the job hunt again. I have made an important decision. I realize that I can't give up on engineering yet. I need to find out if it was engineering I hated, or the actual company I worked for. So, now I am looking for an engineering job. I've had a few interviews with companies here as well as out of state. No offers yet, though. I'll keep you updated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Other than that, I've been getting the car fixed (Someone rear ended me) and cleaning the house.  Tico and I went to Walt Disney World the other weekend and had a great time.  An old friend of mine from college is coming to Miami next weekend, so I'll get to see her for the first time in years.  Everything is good right now...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is for Shawn... Here's a picture of me in Cambodia. I am in the famed An.kor.Wat. Recognize the shirt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031053952565121266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/RdHk6gh4EPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XF64jBvgBfs/s320/in+Cambodia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-1596124517948703629?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/1596124517948703629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=1596124517948703629' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/1596124517948703629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/1596124517948703629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/02/sorry.html' title='sorry'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_6WHbMzFmNLE/RdHk6gh4EPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XF64jBvgBfs/s72-c/in+Cambodia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-7485531180147886123</id><published>2007-01-08T20:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T20:45:47.213-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Knock, knock, knock...  Anyone there?   I'm back!  Well, sort of.  I flew back into San Francisco last night and tomorrow at the crack of dawn, I leave for FLA.  It'll be so good to be back in florida.  Sorry for the sporatic posting.  I will post about La.os, Thai.land, and the Philli.pines soon.  Right now, I just need a nap...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-7485531180147886123?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/7485531180147886123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=7485531180147886123' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7485531180147886123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7485531180147886123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2007/01/knock-knock-knock.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-5126962937417795907</id><published>2006-12-31T22:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T22:18:26.302-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New year!</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year, Everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I haven't written about Laos, or northern Thailand, but I've been busy. I just wanted everyone to know I am ok. In case you didn't know, I'm in Bangkok right now and several bombs exploded last night. I was nowhere near them and I am doing just fine. I should be leaveing today. I'll stay safe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-5126962937417795907?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/5126962937417795907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=5126962937417795907' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/5126962937417795907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/5126962937417795907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/12/in-bangkok.html' title='Happy New year!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-7871556765834241071</id><published>2006-12-21T07:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T07:55:45.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in Cambodia!</title><content type='html'>Cam.bodia is definitly a change from China!  First off, the Viet.nam thing never happened.  Instead, we came to Si.em Re.ap early.  I'm glad we did.  The temples of An.kgor W.at are absolutly amazing.  Basically, it's a city of temples.  The main ones were 12th century or something like that.  We have been here for 3 days and seen the most amazing temples!  You would not believe them.  Some are massively tall, others are surrounded by moats, and still others are hidden back in the woods, seldom visited by tourists.  one of the crazy busy ones that was completely packed was the one that to.mb Raid.er was filmed at.  We went buy, but couldn't stand the crowds.  The only bad thing about the temples are the people trying to sell you stuff.  They don't take no for an answer and there are so many of them.  "You buy t-shirt?  Buy from me, ok?  I give good price!"  Substitue t-shirt for bracelet, book, cold drink, scarf, wooden carving of temples, post cards, etc and that is what you hear all day!  The worst are the little children that try to guilt you.  "if i dont' make money, i no go to school..."  it just makes you want to cry because they are just so cute, but you still say no!  oh I'm not heartless or anything.  i have give the little ones 100 of their money(which is a few cents of ours) and some food, but it's a total lie.  Our driver told us that school is free here.  They just don't go!  We went to a school today with the guy from the hotel.  he volunteers there in the daytime.  i have pictures.  Tomorrow we go to our driver's father's village outside of town.  No tourist ever go there, so it should be interesting.  he said "i'll show you how people really live in cambodia."  it should be interesting.  plus there are a few temples we will hit on the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They Guesthouse is very nice.  It's definitly not the 3 story, 5 bedroom condo we stayed at in China, but you can't have friends everywhere, right?  The front is a little bar/resturant with a pretty garden.  The rooms are small, but confortable, even with the bathroom being a closet!  But hey, what can you complain about for $8 a night?  When we first arrived, we met this guy who workes there.  He is from england and just here for a little bit.  He suggested we have a drink at this place called the Ware.house.  Well, we do and we meet some of the staff, in cluding the manager, this scotish woman.  Well, they have been so great and have looked out for us the whole time.  We have met all of these english people and they keep trying to get us to go out drinking with them.  my friend goes, but i've just been going to bed early.  How else do i have the energy to fight off the little children at the temples.  LOL!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-7871556765834241071?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/7871556765834241071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=7871556765834241071' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7871556765834241071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/7871556765834241071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-in-cambodia.html' title='I&apos;m in Cambodia!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-8061746238053377119</id><published>2006-12-17T00:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T03:23:22.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm In China!</title><content type='html'>EDIT: I almost forgot to tell ya'll... Why are most toilets a whole in the ground???? It takes balance and a good aim! I got too happy when I went to pee a the spa and it was a regular toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This trip has been crazy so far. I don't have much time, so I'll just hit the high lights. At the airport we(L and myself) found out that we needed a visa to go to Viet.nam. Who knew? So, we had to figure it out along the way. Lucky, out first stop was Ho.ng Ko.ng, then on to Viet.nam next. We flew in to Ho.ng Ko.ng on a very long LONG 15 hour flight(9am or so we landed) and planned to speak to someone here about it. After the flight was delayed, we didn't get the Viet.nam thing settled AND we missed the ferry to Ma.cau. We had to take a bus to Ho.ng Ko.ng city and take another shuttle over. There we met with L's friend's father. He then proceeded to take us around the city of Mac.au(not mainland china and not HK) until 7pm. Did I mention that I didnt' sleep at all on the flight and was completely exausted. So, then we waited for his girlfriend to get off work because we had to go through customs yet again to get to mainland china.  That is 3 trips through customs in one day!  All in all, we didn't get to his house until 10:45pm! I thought I was going to DIE! Along our sight seeing, we ate some excellent food. When we first arrived, it was dumplings/Dim Sum. Yummy! For a snack, we had some great noodle soup with shrimp dumplings. And For dinner, we had a ton of stuff. They do everything family style here. Since L and I will eat anything, they just order for us. I was actually served chicken feet in a very nice black bean sauce and pigeon, fried like chicken wings. Not bad. I've made it a point to try everything at least once. I dont' know if that will come back to bite me in the ass later or not! LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, we went sight seeing around mainland china. It has been cold and cloudy, but still good. We did the coolest thing. We went to a Tea shop. Shelly, you'll have to tell MN all about it! It's basically a little cubby hole of a shop with a wooden table with holes in it and a bunch of carved wooden stools. One of the guys we were with was buying tea. So they bring out this vaccume sealed bad of tea and cut it open. They poured it into a little tin for him to look at, and smell. Then they poured 4 little cups of it for us, about half the size of a shot glass. they explained how tea works. Aparently, you can use the same tea leaves 5 to 6 times. The first time you pour water in, you dump it immediently. It is no good, aparently. The second time is the best time, but you can do it 3 to 4 more times. We did this with green tea and oolong tea. I LOVED it! I have pictures of the whole setup. I am not really explaining it that well, but that's because I only have a little bit of time to write. Sorry. Well, after all that, we ended up going to dinner very late. After dinner, the DR(Guy we are staying with's girlfriend) took us to some Hot Springs. OMG! It was amazing! We arrived at midnight. It was so cold out but the water was 40-41.5 degrees C. There were various pools, some of wish were infused with chinese herbs to cure stuff. And there was tea and juice bars everywhere. We even napped on this warm stone. Ok, everyone has been to Cold Stone right? Well, imagine a marble slab like that, but large enough for 20 people to lay down next to each other and heated to a nice temp. We napped on that and it was excellent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home at 5 am and prombly passed out. This morning, we are at a spa with the guy we are staying with's brother in law and his wife. This is the first time we have been on the internet. I'd better run now, but this is the update so far!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BYE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-8061746238053377119?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/8061746238053377119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=8061746238053377119' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8061746238053377119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/8061746238053377119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-in-china.html' title='I&apos;m In China!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-116602916800872139</id><published>2006-12-13T11:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T11:59:28.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Callie</title><content type='html'>Sorry I have been so bad about posting.  I'll try to keep you better updated.  ON the first day in LA, it was dinner with Mom and Dad and a quick drive around the new/old neighborhoond.  We were going to do the tourist thing in Hollywood the next day, but couldn't be bothered to get out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, we went to visit my family my aunt and cousins in San Diego.  San Diego was good.  Tico got to meet my extended family.  He even said "Your family is CRAZY", so I know it's not just me thinking it!  We saw my aunt and 5 of her kids(everyone couldn't make it!) and 3 of their kids.  My cousin Jr tried to threaten him a bit, but it didn't really work.  My baby's too tough for that.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we did the LA thing.  I think we got in the things he wanted to see.  We did the Hollywood sign, Gruman's Chinese Theater, and saw the stars on the ground.  We also drove down Rodeo drive(Drove because we can't afford to walk down it!) and did a little driving tour of Beverly hills.  We went o Olvera Street and had a nice lunch.  It's the first mexican settlement and they were having some sort of fair type thing.  It was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over all the visit was good.  It was nice to see mom and dad and they both liked Tico.  The neighborhood has really gone down, but it's still aright.  And seeing the mountains again was great.  You forget how beautiful they are when you live in a place like Florida where it's soooo flat!  Today at 5 I fly up to San Francisco and tonight we go to Hong Kong.  Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-116602916800872139?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/116602916800872139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=116602916800872139' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116602916800872139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116602916800872139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/12/callie.html' title='Callie'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-116537937988112845</id><published>2006-12-05T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T13:29:41.273-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's gonna help me pack????</title><content type='html'>Alright people, I'm cool to travel!  I thought I was gonna die over the weekend, but I am feeling much better now.  I still have a nasty cough, but other than that, I feel much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tico and I disussed the whole trip thing and he understands how much I want to go.  He did tell me not to call on Christmas or New Years eve though.  He'll be mad those days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today I pack, tomorrow it's off to LA!  Woo Hoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-116537937988112845?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/116537937988112845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=116537937988112845' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116537937988112845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116537937988112845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/12/whos-gonna-help-me-pack.html' title='Who&apos;s gonna help me pack????'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-116518622724950761</id><published>2006-12-03T17:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T17:50:27.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'>South East Asia?</title><content type='html'>My trip is fast approaching and I am still not prepared.  I know, me procrastinating???  NO!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave on the 7th for LA to spend a week with the folks.  From there, I got to San Fran, then on to Asia.  I have yet to pack, let alone decide what to take with me.  Plus, I'm really, REALLY sick right now.  I know what you are thinking.  "Is it safe for you to travel while sick?"  Well, I was asking myself that same question.  With all the illnesses you can get from that part of the country anyway, I don't want to risk going with a weak immune system.  So, I called my DR on Friday when I first started getting sick and she told me some stuff to do and said to call back Monday if I wasn't any better.  Well, I'm not!  It hurts to swallow, I'm all stuffy, I'm achey, and a have a bad cough.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my delima.  One the one hand, I would feel horrible about canceling the trip because my girl is depeneding on me.  It's just me and her going, and she wouldn't be able to go alone if I pulled out.  Plus, Tico keeps giving me soooo much shit about going that sometime I feel like even if I shouldn't, I want to go anyway just so he knows I won't cater to him or give in while he is bitching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I am sick.  What if I catch something over there because my immune system is weak?  And of course, I would love to spend the holidays with Tico.  Wouldn't you know that the first christmas/New Years in a long LONG time that I am with someone, I am going away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About the trip itself, I have mixed feelings.  I am excited to be going to all of these places, but I'm also a bit worried because I didn't do any of the planning and I dont' even know where we are staying.  I love to travel, but I'm concerned about being 2 women alone in some of those countries.  And I keep thinking about when I come back.  I'll have to start thinking about what I want to do with my life.  I mean, that really is the reason I took off and my excuse for the trip.  When I come back I'll have to face reality...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much going on in such a little amount of time.  When I know something, so will you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-116518622724950761?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/116518622724950761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=116518622724950761' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116518622724950761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116518622724950761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/12/south-east-asia.html' title='South East Asia?'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-116450895360933270</id><published>2006-11-25T21:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T21:58:27.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Turkey day</title><content type='html'>I hope everyone had a good thanksgiving.  Mine was great.  With all this working lately, it was very nice to have a day off.  The morning was spent making breakfast and 2 sweet potato pies with maple whipped cream.  Then Tico and I watched football.  The Dolphins are on a streak!  We didn't end up leaving the house until 6:30/7.  We went to his mom's side of the family's gathering.  It was a cuban Thanksgiving.  That means black beans and rice, cuban bread, and cuban coffee along with all the regular trimmings... Mmmmmm!  We had a great time.  I met Tico's Mom, Grandmother, Uncle, and a whole gang of other people.  They were all really sweet and his Aunt kept saying "You are smart, Pretty, and you can cook!  Why are you with Tico?"  He didn't appreciate that.  He also didn't like it when his grandmother asked "So, when do I get to try some of my granddaughter's sweet potato pie?"  LOL!  What can I say, they loved me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-116450895360933270?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/116450895360933270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=116450895360933270' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116450895360933270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116450895360933270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/11/turkey-day.html' title='Turkey day'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-116430798224922586</id><published>2006-11-23T13:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T13:53:02.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Happy Thanks Giving!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-116430798224922586?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/116430798224922586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=116430798224922586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116430798224922586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116430798224922586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/11/happy-thanks-giving.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-116389609635938757</id><published>2006-11-18T19:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T19:28:16.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Did ya'll know that I leave for my trip in a little over 2 weeks?  It just occured to me that I'll be leaving soon.  I promise to take lots of pictures.  I'll try to post while I'm there, but I'm not sure how much internet access I'll have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Tico and I went to the Heat/Knicks game.  I guess I should just call it the Knicks game since aparently the Heat WEREN'T EVEN THERE!  At least that is the way they were playing.  My Girl's parents have season tickets and couldn't go, so we had really good seats.  Afterwards we just watched a movie at home.  It was nice and relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't work at the wine bar anymore.  They were stressing me out and I'm leaving for 5 weeks anyway.  What am I going to do when I get back?  Well, I'm not sure of that yet.  I can work at the mexican resturant out on the beach full time, find a different job in a new field, or maybe I'll go back to engineering.  No, not back to my old company, but maybe back to engineering somewhere else.  I'll see what I feel like when I get back from my trip.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention Tico and I are doing well?  We are together all of the time.  It's going really fast, but it's good.  I've met most of this family and mine has heard about him.  He passed meeting KR and another friend.  They both like him.  He needs to pass with ShellyP next. ;P This morning he was just staring at me.  When I asked him what was up, he told me how beautiful I was and how he was so lucky to be waking up next to me...  I can't remember the last time I felt like this about someone...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-116389609635938757?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/116389609635938757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=116389609635938757' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116389609635938757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116389609635938757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/11/did-yall-know-that-i-leave-for-my-trip.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-116361089445769448</id><published>2006-11-15T12:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T12:14:54.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello????</title><content type='html'>Hi Everyone,&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the small hiatus.  I really didn't mean to be gone so long but so much is going on.  I'm am good.  Really Good in fact.  Things have just been crazy.  On Monday I turned a year older.  It was a good day.  I worked in the morning and then We went out to dinner.  Yes, Tico and I are a "We".  He is really a sweet heart and he makes me happy.  I haven't been this happy for a long time.  Besides spending time with him, I am also working 7 days a week.  Yes, 7 days a week!  Believe it or not, it's still not as stressfull or tiring as engineering was! LOL!  Seriously, it's good.  I love talking to people and it's been lots of fun.  My roommate is good.  I never see her since I am always working, but we get along great.  I could KILL her dogs because they always bark at me, but other than that, I love her to death.  My trip plans are going well.  I leave on Dec. 7th for Callie, then the 13th for Hong Kong.  I am very excited about it!  In a short summary, that is my life right now.  I'll try to post more later, but I'm at work right now.  I'll try to catch up on my blogging soon too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVE YA'LL!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SP&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-116361089445769448?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/116361089445769448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=116361089445769448' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116361089445769448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116361089445769448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/11/hello.html' title='Hello????'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-116061706325413966</id><published>2006-10-11T21:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T21:37:43.306-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What can I say, I'm a fucking idiot.  I'm still messing around with Tico.  He explained to me why he is still married to her and how he didn't marry her for love so he doesn't take it as a big deal.  After talking for a while he understands why it bothers me so much and we are just gonna wait and see what happens right now.  It's been a long time since I've been around someone that makes me happy so we'll just wait and see.  If it starts to get serious, then we'll have a serious discussion about this.  For now, we'll take it for what it is and I'll keep ya'll updated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-116061706325413966?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/116061706325413966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=116061706325413966' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116061706325413966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/116061706325413966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/10/what-can-i-say-im-fucking-idiot.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115991357248043941</id><published>2006-10-03T18:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T00:55:57.746-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tico</title><content type='html'>Ok, me again.  I'm really not trying to tease ya'll but I just have been soooo busy and my internet access was acting up.  I have it working now, but I just don't have time to talk.  I'm all dolled up ready to go to dinner in Miami.  It's going to be a friend, her hubby and this guy, Tico.  We work together and yes, there is a story about Tico.  Alright, the friend and Tico and I all work together.  We decided to go to this particular resturant as a form of research for a new resturant she wants to open.  We decided to bring her hubby because she NEVER get to spend time with him.  Now it's looking more like a double date! The place is supposed to be great, but I know nothing about it.  I'll tell you more tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE : Ok, so I was interupted in my posting by my friend coming to pick me up.  We drove to Miami Beach and had dinner at the &lt;a href="http://www.bartong.com/restaurant/"&gt;fabulous place&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt; where the presentations of the food was sooo cool.  It's really expensive and hard to get into, but the place was great!  I was in so much shock when I saw a $40 cup of coffee on the menu.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the real story.  Let me tell ya'll a bit about Tico.  Like I said before we work together.  Well, for the last few weeks he has been persuing me.  Of course I've been resistant for several reasons.  First off, we work together.  He was a Marine and I have always HATED marines.  He is not my physical type.  I like tall guys and he is short.  He has a kid and I don't like baby mama drama.  Anyway, there are many reasons why this should not work.  Well, I guess he wore me down.  LOL!!    No, seriously, he is really sweet when we are together and he's cute.  He reminds me a lot of the guys I grew up with.  They are Thugs, but have a soft side.  Anyway, a week ago, He needed a key to the resutrant because he was opening by himself in the morning.  So, I had to meet him to give it to him.  It was a friday night and I was working, so I had to meet him afterwards, around 2 or 3am.  We hung out for a while at his place, but nothing happened.  I know, ya'll are thinking "It was 2am and nothing happened??"  Yes, I was a good girl.  Well, the same thing happened a few nights later because the owner didn't make new keys yet.  Well, needless to say that by the second night we had crossed the just friends line.  I was alright with this.  He has his positives and I was starting to like him.  Of course, THEN he tells me he is still married to his baby's mama.  As you can imagine, I was livid!  What the hell?  How could you not tell me you were married?  He started to say that he thought he told me but that he may have mentioned the word divorce.  I said to him "So, do you want to be the guy that Omitted the fact that he is married or do you want to the be one who lied to me about being divorced?!?"  He was like "Ummm, I think we'll go with omitted."  I was really upset and what made it worse was his "Don't worry about it" attitude.  To him it's no big deal, but to me it is!  I grew up with both of my parents.  They have been married for over 35 years and have never been married to anyone else or had any kids by anyone else.  Marriage means a lot to me and is a serious committment.  For him to not tell me that he is still married is a very big deal to me.  He keeps saying "So what.  I got married."  I keep trying to tell him I dont' have an issue with him getting married 6 years ago, but I do with him STILL BEING MARRIED.  Granted, he says they are seperated and she lives in NY.  He claims he never sees her and doesn't talk to her unless it's about their kid, but how do I know that.  My question is why not just get a divorce???  "She was supposed to do it but..." "I was going to but..."  "I started to but..."  I was so upset about it because if he omitted this, what else was he keeping from me?  We've talked and he thinks I'm over reacting.  I'm trying to decide right now if I can deal with the fact that he is a married man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so that is what is going on in my life right now.  I have yet to recap my Savannah trip or tell you about my work drama.  It's coming soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115991357248043941?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115991357248043941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115991357248043941' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115991357248043941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115991357248043941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/10/tico.html' title='Tico'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115932105264086863</id><published>2006-09-26T21:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T21:37:32.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry ya'll.  I haven't even checked my email in a week.  Soooo much has happened that you wouldn't believe.  That and my computer is now working right now.  I'll write soon and I need to catch up on everyone's blogs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115932105264086863?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115932105264086863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115932105264086863' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115932105264086863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115932105264086863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/09/sorry.html' title='Sorry'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115879915256585089</id><published>2006-09-20T20:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T20:39:12.593-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wild Weekend</title><content type='html'>Hey Ya'll,&lt;br /&gt;I don't have time to write but I will pull a Shawn and give you some hints.  I drove to Savannah this weekend and here are some things that occured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 - cops&lt;br /&gt;2 - lots of drunkenness&lt;br /&gt;3 - 2 epilectic Seisures&lt;br /&gt;4 - a fight&lt;br /&gt;5 - a drug dealer&lt;br /&gt;6 - a friendly stripper&lt;br /&gt;7 - The birth of a baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to write it all down when I get a chance...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115879915256585089?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115879915256585089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115879915256585089' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115879915256585089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115879915256585089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/09/wild-weekend.html' title='Wild Weekend'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115759298088903033</id><published>2006-09-06T20:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T22:18:59.283-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The cast of my life...</title><content type='html'>It's 9pm and I'm sitting on my couch completely exausted.  I am in desperate need of some sleep and a full body massage.  This afternoon, I realized that despite the unsteady paycheck, long hours, and ocasional body aches, I love what I am doing.  I don't miss engineering one bit.  I have had so much fun and I'm surrounded by such a cast of characters every day.  Life is just so amusing right now.  Earlier today I was thinking about my life and It just didn't seem real.  Here are some of the crazy people/things I deal with on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surfer Chef - She is absolutly crazy.  The chef at the mexican resturant I work at is so wacky all the time.  She is about 5 years younger than me and is this little athetic blond girl who moved down from Atlanta.  It's funny because we totally pimp her out all the time.  The other day she put on bikini bottoms with her work shirt(which is pretty see thorough) tied up to show her belly and walked down the beach with togo menus.  The lifeguards told her there was no soliciatating and then took the menus and called in an order.  LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tatoo Boy - I really shouldn't call him a boy because he is a grown man with and ex-wife and kids, but I can't help it.  He's italian/hispanic from Boston.  Think "Good Will Hunting", accent and all.  He works at the tatoo shop next door to the mexican resturant and comes in at least 5 times an hour.  He and the other "kids" come in and eat all day long when they are bored.  They also play ball out front and run out into the street to get it, just like kids do!  He plays with stuff in the resturant and always needs attaention.  It was funny because another friend of ours came to the restrant and met him.  They started talking out our friend getting a tatoo and he was all serious!  We've never seen the buisness side of Tatoo boy.  Of course later that night he was back to his old self, screwing around while we were cleaning up and asking us to hurry up so we could go get a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pervert Chef - Now this is the head chef at the wine bar.  He is basically a dirty old man.  When a table of cute girls come in to the resturant he has to put on this chef's coat and deliver some free appetizers while flirting with them.  He also makes tons of inapropiate comments to/about all of the girls(staff and customers!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sista Girl - Ok, Sista Girl is not actually a girl.  He is a chef at the wine bar and he is crazy.  Let me just tell you, he has long weave and wears sparkly lip gloss.  When he is working, he always has hip-hop and R&amp;B playing.  When I come into the kitchen, we are always dancing and singing along with the music.  Sista came in one night with his man and was wearing a cute skirt, blouse, and some nice wedge heels.  I had to yell at the other guys to be nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Italion connection - Ok this is acutally a group of people but it's headed by the old school italian waiter from Philly.  The other night when someone was talking about a problem he was having I actually heard him say this. "What the fuck?  Why the fuck didn't you fucking call me?  I would have had a fucking crew down there in a fucking minute to fucking take care of him!"  I though people only said stuff like that in movies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creepy Guys - There are a couple of guys that fall into this category, but I'll just mention 2 here.  There,s P, who come in to the wine bar, usually drunk already and drinks more at the bar.  You just feel dirty when P looks at you and he creeps out all of the women that work there.  He also hangs out until we kick him out, usually while we are cleaning up.  The guys don't like him either because he is a horrible tipper.  Pretty much he tips $3 no matter what he drinks and/or eats.  Then there is P's friend R who shows up with these young russian girls all of the time.  He throws his money around all the time and thinks that will impress them.  He also tries to get us to go out with him for a drink all of the time. Ummm, no thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Millionares - I have met a ton of guys who have millions.  Some of them are very cool about it.  They are nice guys and we chat just like anyone would.  They drink what they like, not the expensive well known wines.  The only reason I know they are millionares is usually because one of the suck-up waiters tells me afterwards.  One guy was out front and I was thinking "Oh, that's a nice car.  It's a cute little red convertable."  Yeah, I didn't realize it was a Ben.tly, but the waiter let me know.  On the other spectrum, There are the guys that only want to drink the $60+ a glass wines and that talk about their vacation homes, private planes, and yatchs.  They want people to know they have money and they throw it around to get attention.  I just roll my eyes and bring them their $300 bottle of wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many more people I could tell you about but then I'd be typing forever.  See why I'm having such a good time?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115759298088903033?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115759298088903033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115759298088903033' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115759298088903033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115759298088903033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/09/cast-of-my-life.html' title='The cast of my life...'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115734684720421745</id><published>2006-09-04T00:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T01:14:07.286-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey Ya'll.  I know, I've been busy and haven't kept up on the posts.  This one is going to be a bit rambly because it's late and I've been drinking.  I'm working 2 jobs now and it's going good.  the Mexican place is starting to take off and the wine bar is the same as always.  I worked a little late tonight and I'm a bit tired, but everything else is ok.  I burned the shit out of my arm the other day.  I accidentally bumped into the tortilla press and now I have a huge burn mark on my arm.  I need to put something on it so that it doesn't scar too bad.  I'm used to scars thought since I'm so accident prone.  My roommate moved in today.  She is very nice.  As I am typing this we are watching a rerun of FOL2 and drinking some wine.  So far we have gotten along pretty well, if a few hours count.  LOL!  I was talking to my friend today who works for the city.  Ya'll know that the super bowl is in south fla this year right?  Well, she is on the committe to host the thing and was talking about possibly getting some tickets for the game.  I was like "WHAT?  You BETTER take me!"  She knows if she takes someone that knows nothing about football I'm going to beat her.  In fact SHE doesn't know anything about football!  There is a kickoff party Thursday featuring a concert and she has VIP passes for it.  Why do I have to work on Thursday?  So not only do I miss the concert, but I miss the first game too!  Alright, I'm sleepy now.  I'll keep up with the writing a little better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115734684720421745?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115734684720421745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115734684720421745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115734684720421745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115734684720421745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/09/hey-yall.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115687605480898170</id><published>2006-08-29T14:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T14:27:34.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The storm is coming.  It's all dark and rainy.  I haven't taken the doggie door out yet because of the giant lizard that was out there earlier.  I know, I'm a wimp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115687605480898170?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115687605480898170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115687605480898170' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115687605480898170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115687605480898170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/08/storm-is-coming.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115683316322289687</id><published>2006-08-29T02:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T02:32:43.240-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How come I didn’t know there was a hurricane coming until this morning?  I was talking to an ex-co-worker this morning and they mentioned the storm.  Oops.  I guess I’d better keep up on the news more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend’s new restaurant opening was delayed.  We were supposed to be opened tomorrow, but it’s looking more like Thursday or even Friday.  I say we because I’ll be working for her sometimes for lunch.  It’s a Mexican place right on the beach.  The chef made me chicken nachos the other day and they were awesome.  Today she did all things shrimp, burrito, taco, quesadilla, salad, and nachos.  We were going to have chicken but she didn’t want to thaw it out seeing as we may not be open for a few days.  She also made a really good bean burrito and 4 different kinds of salsa.  Mmmmmm!  Did I mention that they make their own chips too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I had brunch with a few girlfriends.  Imagine 7 black women sitting in a room discussing politics, men, hair, food… It was a lot of fun.  We had some mimosas along with a ton of food.  Everyone brought something, so there was more than enough to go around.  I think the menu included pancakes, cheesy hash browns, grits, smoked turkey sausage, guava pastries, pound cake, carrot cake, strawberry short cake, and banana nut muffins.  I think there were a couple of other items that have slipped my mind.  Needless to say, lots of doggie bags were passed around.  This was before I had to go to work.  I realize that mimosas make the work day go much better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE to tell you what happened at work tonight.  It was completely dead because of the possible approaching storm.  In fact, I didn’t have a single table tonight and we closed 3 hours early!  Before we closed, a couple came in.  I was in the back when they walked in and they were asking the bartender about wines.  They had been in before, but couldn’t remember what they had.  As soon as the guy saw me he was like “Hi again!  Do you remember what I was drinking last time?”  I love it when people ask me that.  Ummm, there are 160 wines and I’ve seen hundreds of people since they were last in.  They should be happy that I recognize their faces!  Anyway, he is looking at the retail side which is about 50% cheaper to buy a bottle than the wine bar side.  I know, 2 prices, but you really pay for me to open the bottle and continuously pour it for you all night long along with the ambiance.  Nice huh?  Service is everything…  Anyway, He sees one wine that is supposed to be really good that retails for $150, but costs $300 to drink in the restaurant.  He wants to buy it, but he wants it for the retail price.  When I tell him he can’t open it in the store/bar if he pays retail he tells me he’ll pour me a glass if I let him.  As tempted as I was to try this wine, I said no like a good girl.  The other servers says “Now, if you pour us (me, him, and bartender) all a glass, that’s a different story.”  Why does dude say ok???  I asked the AM who was in the back office and he basically said no, like I knew he would.  If we did it this time, this guy would want to do it every time he came in.  When I told the guy again that I couldn’t let him open it, the other server went to ask AM.  He came back and opened the bottle for the guy.  I guess AM had a change of heart.  True to his word, this guy poured 5 glasses of wine.  One for him and his girlfriend and 3 for us!  It was damn good wine.  We actually realized that we should give some to AM since he agreed to break the rules, so we (the employees and even the guy!) poured some of our wine into another glass for him.  He came out of the office to thank the guy.  After talking for a while and finishing our expensive wine, this guy is talking to AM about how it can’t be that hard for the people who decide on what blends to create and how it must be a good job.  FYI, lots of wines are not made with a single grape type.  They actually mix certain percentages of the different grapes together to get the flavor they want.  AM tells this guy, “Well, you never know unless you try it.”  So this man says ok.  He buys 4 bottles of wine, the cheapest one being $30 retail.  He gets a cabernet, a merlot, a syrah, and a malbec. Then, he proceeds to tell me how he wants it blended together… 5% of this, 15% of that, basically doing his own thing.  I just said to him “You don’t want to taste them first??”   So I poured him a couple of sips and then he revised his percentages.  I must admit, this was for totally selfish reasons!  I had never tasted 2 of these wines because they were damn expensive and no one had ever ordered just a glass.  So, when I poured him a little taste, I got a little sip in for myself too.  LOL!  Anyway, after blending them the way he wanted, we tried it and it wasn’t bad.  This time he was pouring glasses for the 3 employees, AM, and him and his girlfriend.  After drinking his batch, he asked the AM to try to create a blend of his own.  You should have seen his face.  “No, I don’t’ want to screw up the wines!”  He eventually did it and the guy liked it better than his own blend.  Then he had me mix a batch too.  They like that too, but after all that wine, I think anything would be good in their eyes.  After chatting for a long time and drinking a lot, they still had some wine left.  I corked it and packed it up for them to take home.  After all, we couldn’t drink all of the nearly $500 in wines they bought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115683316322289687?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115683316322289687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115683316322289687' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115683316322289687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115683316322289687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/08/how-come-i-didnt-know-there-was.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115645005629622134</id><published>2006-08-24T16:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T16:07:36.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WHAT??</title><content type='html'>Ok, has anyone heard about the new Survivor?  I am sitting on my couch watching BET News and they are doing a story on the next installment of Survivor.  Now I haven't watched this in years, but I may have to tune in this season.  You know how last season they did 4 teams instead of two?  Well, they are doing that again, but instead of being seperated by age and sex, they are seperating them by racial groups!  That's right.  There is a black team, white team, asian team, and a latin team.  Can you see trouble on the horizon?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115645005629622134?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115645005629622134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115645005629622134' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115645005629622134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115645005629622134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/08/what.html' title='WHAT??'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115634667789163922</id><published>2006-08-23T11:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T11:24:37.910-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ya’ll are never going to believe what happened.  So, I mentioned last post how I was getting a roommate, right?  Well, I called my real estate agent and told him I wanted to take the house off the market. He was cool with it and said he would take it off the MLS right away.  A few hours later he calls again.  “You are never going to believe who called me.  Remember last week when I brought some people by last minute?  Well, they want to see your place again.”  Huh?  You gotta be kidding me.  Why do these things happen when I finally make a decision?  So, he is bringing them by tonight.  They will make an offer within 24 hours if they want it.  So, by tomorrow I’ll know if my house is sold, or if it’s off the market and I’ll have a roommate.  If it is sold, I’ll have to call my roommate and let her know that she can be my roommate in an apartment if she still wants to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night my friend and I went to this other wine place.  It’s more of a retail store and tasting room.  They have these machines set up that dispense one ounce portions of wine.  We wandered around and recognized a bunch of wines that we carry at our wine bar and a few that we wish we carried.  We tasted a bunch of different wines and met one of the owners and he kept giving us other wines to try.  We really had a great time.  Unfortunally they close at 8pm and don’t have any food or anything, so we went to our wine bar for something to eat and more wine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115634667789163922?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115634667789163922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115634667789163922' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115634667789163922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115634667789163922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/08/yall-are-never-going-to-believe-what.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115627181375425916</id><published>2006-08-22T14:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T14:36:53.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I know I’ve been lax on my posting, but I’ve been all busy lately.  I did three doubles over the last week and I’m still exhausted!  This post may be a bit rambly and all over the place, but oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it with men grabbing my butt?  In the last few days there have been men grabbing me lately.  What?  Is there a sign on my ass that I don’t know about that says “touch me please!”?  Today a guy came in who has been in once before.  I instantly recognized him and said “Welcome back!” as I always do.  I wasn’t worried about busting him like I did the other guy because he was soooo obviously gay… or so I though anyway.  That was before he got a bit drunk and grabbed my ass!  He was happily drinking and he decided grabbed me around the waist, and kissed my cheek, and laid his hand directly on my ass.  Hello!  Strangely enough I wasn’t thinking “What the hell is his hand doing on my ass!”  Instead I was thinking “I though you were gay!” Granted he was drunk at the time.  A few days ago some other guy tried to grab my ass too.  I don’t know what’s up with that.  Something strange happened with one of the cooks too.  He asked me out.  I guess that’s not so strange except for the fact that he is a Late 40’s white man that I have absolutely nothing in common with.  Lovely huh?  It couldn’t have been the hot Argentinean chef hitting on me.  And all the butt grabbing… not by anyone I would like to be grabbed by.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy and Daddy are going back to Callie!  They went back home and saw the house and neighborhood.  They decided that they needed to go back even if it’s only to fix up the house and then sell it right way.  Either way, I’m planning a trip.  Can one of ya’ll pick me up in LA?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My trip planning is going well.  So far, the plan is to go to Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Hong Kong, and the Philippines.  Strangely enough, I met two guys at the wine bar today who live in Hong Kong.  One is from Scotland and the other is from Spain.  They both work in Hong Kong and were here for business.  They were telling me all about all of the above named countries.  I got some great recommendations, travel tips, and all around general information.  I can’t wait to go!  Plus, on the way, I’ll stop in Seattle and see my niece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I’m supposed to meet with a friend for a few drinks.  That usually ends up being out all night long.  I have to try to be good because tomorrow I am supposed to go to happy hour with a few friends from my old job.  It was one girl’s birthday, so we are going out for ladies night.  It should be fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a roommate!  Ok, my friend works for the city.  They have grad student interns that come every year for about 9 months.  One is moving down from Boston, so she needs a place to stay.  I figure I can deal with a roommate for 9 months.  I just took the house off the market, since nothing is selling anyway, and I’ll put it back on in about 9 months time.  She is my age, did a major career change like me, and seems like a nice girl.  Single, no kids, home owner and loves to cook and travel like me.  I think this will work out nicely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115627181375425916?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115627181375425916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115627181375425916' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115627181375425916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115627181375425916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-know-ive-been-lax-on-my-posting-but.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115536625670495966</id><published>2006-08-12T02:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T05:12:00.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been found!</title><content type='html'>Did I ever tell you about the Assistant Manager from my job?  He’s this really hot young Italian Guy.  I mean, I can hardly contain myself at work most days…  Oh, and he just found my blog the other day because he was looking up some of our wines that I happened to mention.  Hi Carlo!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the AM walks up to me today at work and says that he found my blog.  The first thought in my head it “Shit!  What have I been writing about lately?  Anything bad?”  Of course, I never write anything that I wouldn’t say to someone anyway, but still.  That makes, what, 4 people that actually know me that know about this blog.  That’s not too bad considering lots of people should be able to figure it out.  How many mixed girls do you know that live here and work in the area I work?  I’m really not trying to hide it, I’m just not telling anyone.  Oh wait, I am hiding it from my Sis.  She’d KILL me if she knew I a) had a blog and b) posted a picture of her daughter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough about that.  I’m getting my South East Asia trip all together.  Lee and I have finally got the dates that we can go.  Her family is all excited about it too.  If her parents are there during Christmas, we are going to spend it with them.  They usually go to Mexico and have invited me there a couple of times.  Maybe next year I’ll spend my Christmas having margaritas with them.  We have decided to fly into Manila, Philippines then take short trips to Thailand and either Cambodia or Vietnam.  We still haven’t decided whether or not to go to Cambodia or Vietnam.   On the way, I am going to try to visit my family.  I want to see my niece while I’m on the west coast.  My dad pulled a picture of me out of his wallet the other day (don’t know why he had one!) and asked my niece who it was.  She said “SP Obachan (Aunt in Japanese).”  Isn’t she cute?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115536625670495966?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115536625670495966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115536625670495966' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115536625670495966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115536625670495966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/08/ive-been-found.html' title='I&apos;ve been found!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115501604897756377</id><published>2006-08-08T01:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T01:55:39.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I deserve my days off!</title><content type='html'>Work’s been weird lately.  Today started with me being late because I was watching FOL2.  My girlfriend sent me a text today telling me that we couldn't be friends anymore.  When I asked why she was like "Because of you I watched FOL2 last night.  And if that weren't bad enougth I couldn't even call you to talk about it since you were working!"  That's when I knew I had to watch it even if it made me a little late.  Shawn and HC, I thought of you two the whole time.  Today I had a customer hit on me the entire time he was at the wine bar.  He was with his sister and her husband.  They ordered a bottle of wine and I was filling their glasses.  As I was pouring, they were like “She’s cute.  What about her?  I like her.”  Ummm, how you gonna talk about me like I’m not standing RIGHT THERE!!  And a few days ago I had to go off on a co-worker.  He felt the need to smack me on the ass!  That may be ok with the other girls, but that is NOT cool with me.  I know in the restaurant industry certain things that would normally get you fired at a job are a little bit more acceptable but I draw the line at touching me.  I’m a forgive and forget kinda girl so we are cool now, but he knows better.  Saturday the assistant manager was all stressed and was really in a pissy mood.  So while we were closing up, we chatted for a while.  So much happened that day that it all just got to him.  A couple of the girls got into a little argument, some of the guys were bitching about paychecks and who got more tables than who, and some chick passed out in the door way.  Ok, I don’t know what exactly happened, but I look over and this girl is knocked out lying in the door way.  Her boyfriend was like “Oh, this happens all the time.  She just blacks out sometimes.  It’s no big deal.”  I just wanted to say to him “THAT’S NOT NORMAL!”  I think she was diabetic and had been drinking.  Oh, and did I mention she was under aged?  Don’t worry, she wasn’t drinking with us.  She had been somewhere else and was trying to come into our place when she passed out.  There was an ambulance and fire truck and whatnot.  Did I mention that I love firemen?  ;o) Oh, and I almost forgot.  One of the chefs that constantly hits on me quit.  He(Creepy Chef) always stares at my chest and really makes me uncomfortable.  Plus, he stands right where I have to brush past him to put the dishes away in the kitchen.  Another chef was asking me if I was going to miss Creepy Chef today and I just smiled and walked out of the kitchen.  So, I have two days off.  What shall I do?  Sleep I think!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115501604897756377?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115501604897756377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115501604897756377' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115501604897756377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115501604897756377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-deserve-my-days-off.html' title='I deserve my days off!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115497157672484366</id><published>2006-08-07T13:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T13:26:16.816-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My friend called me really upset the other day.  She just found out she has herpes and was freaking out.  I didn’t know what to say or to do to calm her down.  What can I say?  Apparently it’s normal for people to go through depression, suicidal tendencies, isolation.  You wonder who you got it from, do they know they have it, did you give it to anyone…  I wish there was a way that I could help her.  I wish I lived closer so that I could just give her a hug when she is feeling down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115497157672484366?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115497157672484366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115497157672484366' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115497157672484366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115497157672484366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-friend-called-me-really-upset-other.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115386891028386419</id><published>2006-07-25T19:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T19:14:27.306-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Are men stupid or is it just me?</title><content type='html'>I don’t get guys.  There are some things that guys do that I just don't get.  It's like they WANT to be caught.  Here's what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was working.  There was a woman that came in who asked for a table for 2.  She sat and waited for the guy she was meeting to come in.  He came in and sat down.  I walked over to greet the table and instantly recognized him as having been at the restaurant, but can’t really remember from when.  Now, I am horrible with names, but I am pretty good at remembering faces.  I say hi and something about welcome back.  The girl goes “I didn’t know you have been here.”  In my head I’m thinking “OH SHIT!”  I know how I recognize him.  This was probably 7 something in the evening when this happened.  This SAME guy was in at 4 with a completely different woman!  I know, I know, I totally busted him, but come on!!!  If you are going to go to the same damn restaurant at least tell the girl you’ve been there before. This is completely why they get into trouble.  There is an NFL player that does the same thing.  I’ve seen him in there with 2 different girls and apparently there is a 3rd he’s been in there with too.  When I waited on them, I greeted them as if this were the first time coming in because I she hadn't been there and I didn’t know if he had mentioned that he had been there before or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115386891028386419?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115386891028386419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115386891028386419' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115386891028386419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115386891028386419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/07/are-men-stupid-or-is-it-just-me.html' title='Are men stupid or is it just me?'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115364561253104413</id><published>2006-07-23T04:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T05:06:52.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HI! It's almost 5 am and I am exausted.  Some of the guys from work and I went to have a couple of drinks at a place down the street.  They don't close till 4am and we met the manager and some of the bartenders.  I am sooooo tired right now and a little loopy.   JG came to see me at work today.  It was very nice. He and KR and another friend of ours came by on Friday, but I was so busy then that I didnt' get to talke to them very much.  Today I wasn't so busy so I hung out with him and his honey for a little bit and even gave them a couple of splashes.  Splashes are just a tablespoon (or a couple if I'm the one pouring!) of wine to see if you like it or not.  They are free and it's great because you don't have to pay for a glass if you don't like it!  I splashed them on some 9s and 10s, which are $23 a glass or more.  Yesterday after closing, some of the co-workers and I went out for drinks.  After a while we went to this great place that is open 24 hours.  They have pizza and these great sandwitches.  The sandwithches have french fries and coselaw on them.  It is the perfect food at 5am or when you have a really bad hangover.  Anyway, I didn't get in till 6:30 or later last night because we went to get pizza and one of the owners/managers of the wine bar went and got us a couple of bottles from the resturant.  She just unlocked the door, took the bottle and left a note saying she'd pay for them later.  We had those and the pizza at one girls house.  Mommy called while I was at work today.  They are somewhere near Minnapolis right about now.  The drive has been ok and they aren't sad about leaving VA at all.  They are just looking forward to seeing my niece for ther 2nd b-day.  I can't even believe she will be two on Saturday.  My other friend called while I was working tooo.  She wanted to thank me because I made her a cake for her going away party.  She is moving to England next week to teach and her party was tonight.  I made a 4 layer chocolate cake with chocolate ganache between each layer.  I'll have to call her when I wake up to see if she liked it.  The dog is sitting by the door crying right now.  I alrady walked him so I'm sure he just wants some attention.  I'd better go pay with him so that he won't wake me up at the crack of dawn.  Yes, he is THAT special!!  Oh I almost forgot.  No word on the parents being roommmates yet.  Shel, yes, I would charge them for the year, but not as much as I'd charge someone else.  NYABG, the advantages of having them here is that I never have to walk the dog, do laundry, cook, or fix anything in the house or car.  The disadvantage is that I'll be a single woman pushing 30 living with my parents!  All - I don't know what is going to happen yet, but I did make $300 on Firday and $200 tongith.  It's all looking up for right now.  Well see how I feel next week!  Sleepyness kicking in more.  I'm sure I'm rambling so I'll go now.  We'll talk soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115364561253104413?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115364561253104413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115364561253104413' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115364561253104413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115364561253104413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/07/hi-its-almost-5-am-and-i-am-exausted.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115315306899611283</id><published>2006-07-17T11:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T13:25:15.273-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Things are going much better now.  The sun has come out and it's been so nice out lately.  Saturday night I worked and it was busy, but not too busy.  I like it when it's busy because I don't like having nothing to do.  I'm a very social person, so I much prefer it to be a steady stream of people rather than being crazy busy.  That way I can chat with people.  So far I've met some very interesting folks.  Being in a tourist place, we get to meet people from all over.  Sunday I worked a double.  I though it would be busier because we have brunch, but it was pretty empty until night time.  I close again tonight then I have a couple of days off in a row.  That will be nice!  I’ll have to take the dog to the dog park.  He’s not so depressed anymore, but he was mad at me yesterday for being at work so long.  How can I tell, you ask?  Well, whenever he is mad at me, he gets on the couch and knocks all the cushions on to the floor.  He is not allowed on the furniture and does it just to spite me.  Then he waits upstairs and won’t come down when I get home.  Special huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I almost forgot.  I talked to my mom the other day.  They are packing up since they are closing on their house on Thursday.  So, their plan is to drive to Seattle to visit my sister.  My little niece turns 2 at the end of the month, so they want to be there for that.  Then they are planning to go to Callie to see the house.  They want to go see it to decide if they want to live there or not.  Ummm, do I hear and echo?  Of course I just say “Sure mom, that’s a really great idea you have there” and bite my tongue.  So, if they don’t like the neighborhood anymore, they will decide to stay in Seattle.  They’ll just buy something small.  And she even said to my sister “Yeah, we can even get just a small one bedroom condo”  Ummm, WHAT?  When I asked her she said “You can stay with your sister when you visit.”  EXCUSE ME???  Ya’ll know I don’t like them!  AHHHH!  So frustrating.  So now I’m considering keeping the house because if I sell it, I pretty much don’t have anywhere to go.  I could get an apartment here.  If I keep the house, I may get a roommate.  I said this to my mom and you know what she said?  “Well, if we stay in Seattle, I won’t want to be there all year long.  Your dad and I can be your roommates during the winter months.”  Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!   Isn’t my Mama funny?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115315306899611283?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115315306899611283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115315306899611283' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115315306899611283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115315306899611283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/07/things-are-going-much-better-now.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115236567694845670</id><published>2006-07-08T09:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T09:34:36.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mommy and Daddy are here!  Woo hoo!  They got in at 3:15 this morning and they woke up at 8am.  I'm telling you, something is wrong with them.  :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115236567694845670?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115236567694845670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115236567694845670' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115236567694845670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115236567694845670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/07/mommy-and-daddy-are-here-woo-hoo-they.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115215262748576481</id><published>2006-07-05T22:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T22:23:47.506-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are a couple of guys who I will always love for the rest of my life.  We are still friends and I wish them well, but it's hard to hear certain things.  A couple of weeks ago I heard form one.  He's having a baby.  I don't think I'm really over him being married yet and now they are having a baby?  Today I spoke to another one.  He's engaged.  WHAT?  I think all I could really say was "Wow" and then I threw in a "That's great."  This shouldn't bother me.  Neither one should, but they do.  I know, Shelly, I told you it didn't bother me, but it DOES!  I can't help it.  I can't even describe how I feel right now.  I just need to go away or something...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115215262748576481?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115215262748576481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115215262748576481' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115215262748576481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115215262748576481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/07/there-are-couple-of-guys-who-i-will.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115211663495426692</id><published>2006-07-05T11:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T22:24:52.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's still the weekend!</title><content type='html'>Ok, Sunday I didn’t make it into work.  I realized that I didn’t have black pants to wear on Monday.  At my old job, I usually wore jeans and when I did wear black pants they were pin striped.  So, I met up with a girl from work and we looked for pants.  She needed some too!  Afterwards, I went to the BBQ, I mentioned in my last post.  Shawn, I didn’t even realize I said cookout!  Damn New Yorkers got me saying that.  ;o)  It was nice to hang out with them, but they are CRAZY.  Between 4 of us we went through 7 bottles of wine.  There were more people there but they were drinking beer.  We had tons of food.  There was jerk Chicken, blackened Dolphin, and some great steaks cooked on the grill.  We had garlic potatoes, green beans, and salad with strawberries and poppy seeds.  Needless to say, everyone was full and a bit drunk.  Oh and did I mention that we lost a guy?  Ok, here’s what happened, one guy was DRUNK!  He fell asleep in the pool.  So when we got him inside, he was laying on one girl’s bed.  Side note:  All of their bedrooms have back doors leading outside.  So, he was in there on the bed when we closed the door.  When we opened the door he was gone!  We looked everywhere for him and couldn’t find him for about an hour.  So we left.  They wanted to go to a bar down the street so we went.  We really did look for him.  After all, he couldn’t have gone far without his cloths, wallet, keys, and phone, right?  Well, while at the bar, he calls.  He broke into the house to get his stuff and went home.  He was mad at us because he said we left him in the pool.  He was not in the pool!  We had to walk by the pool to get out so we knew he wasn’t there.  To this day, neither he nor the rest of know where he was.  Needless to say, I did not make it home that night.  I ended up sleeping over and got home at 6:45am, just in time to shower and get all dressed up for work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday was friends and family day at work.  Basically, people that knew someone made reservations to come in for lunch of dinner.  They got 2 glasses of wine per person, an appetizer, entrees, and a desert all for free.  I didn’t realize it would all be free.  Lunch kind of sucked because I only had one table.  After lunch, I hung around waiting for the shipment of more wines to come in.  They never did, so I headed off to meet my friend that was home visiting from DC.  Well, when I spoke to her she said they wanted to meet on Las Olas, which is where I work!  So I turned the car around and had a brilliant idea.  I called the manager to ask if I could bring my friends there.  She said they were pretty booked up, but she could do it as long as we sat outside.  No problem.  So my girlfriend, her boyfriend, two of her brothers, and another of her friends that I am not that close with all met up at my restaurant.  The food was good and the wine was good.  They enjoyed it and my girlfriend even bought a couple of bottles of wine.  After they left, I stayed around to do inventory.  We had to count all of the bottles of wine in the entire place.  It was ok.  We actually had a pretty good time hanging out and chatting while counting.  We actually opened up a bottle wine and had a little while working.  It was really good wine.  The only bad thing was that we found 2 bottles missing from the bar area.  They weren’t the best wines and it seemed a bit random that they were gone.  There’s no way to tell who took them, so I don’t know what they are going to do about it.  There were only 4 of us there so I don’t know that anyone else knows yet.  We'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was our first actual day open.  It was really slow when I got there.  The whole street was empty and because we are still missing the sign and awning out front, people didn’t realize we were open.  I only had 4 tables all night, but we spoke to lots of people walking past outside.  We told them about us, gave them to go menus, and tried to get them to look around inside if they wanted to.  It was a pretty good first day for a soft opening, I guess.  The real test will be Friday when we are guaranteed to be packed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, my parents are coming down on Saturday.  I really need to clean the house!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115211663495426692?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115211663495426692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115211663495426692' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115211663495426692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115211663495426692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/07/its-still-weekend.html' title='It&apos;s still the weekend!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115185207842854996</id><published>2006-07-02T10:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T11:18:04.236-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My weekend started Wednesday, how about yours?</title><content type='html'>Sorry I haven’t posted much.  I’ve had a busy week.  On Wednesday I went to happy hour, which turned into much more.  We all met up at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Hollywood.  It’s been here for a little while.  Besides the hotel and casino, there is an outdoor part with shops, restaurants, and clubs.  That’s where we usually go.  When I got to the restaurant that we had agreed on, my ex-boss was there with a guy visiting that I didn’t know.  He proceeded to tell me how he missed me around the office and tried to guilt me yet again, but I didn’t let it phase me.  Soon some other people arrived.  For the first 10 minutes after each person arrived, I heard “so, what are you doing with your time?  Are you happy?  How is everything?”  After everyone got that out of their systems, we were fine.  We had drinks at the first place, then went to another restaurant to have dinner.  After dinner, most people left.  A few of us met up with another friend at another bar there.  It was kind of interesting because they had this speed dating set up.  Ummm, yeah, I’m never doing that, so don’t even ask!  We had a few drinks there and I was so tired.  I was really ready to go.  To get back to the parking garage, you have to walk back through the casino.  So we headed that way.  There were 3 of us, one guy, a girl and myself.  Well, as we walked from the bar to the casino, the girl started acting strangely.  She was fine at the bar.  All of a sudden, she was silly and a slurring her words a little.  Even thought I was tired, we decided to stick around for a while because we knew that she couldn’t drive.  She wanted to gamble and drink more.  We cut off the drinking and gambled a little bit to try to waste some time.  Then we suggested coffee, but she wasn’t having any of that.  To distract her, the guy suggested we head out to the pool area.  The pool at the hard rock is set up like a beach/Laguna type area.  There are sand and fake rocks, and waterfalls.  There is also a bar out there, but luckily it was closing when we got out there.  So, we went around to the opposite side of the pool, where there were less people and chilled on the lounge chairs for a while.  Now the girl was still talking a bit crazy.  She got the brilliant idea that we should all get in the pool.  Ummm, no.  She tried to convince us for a while.  So, I took off my shoes and stood in the shallow area to shut her up.  Well, that was a BAD idea.  In fact, the guy blames me for what happened next.  After instructing him to cover his eyes, the girl proceeded to take off ALL of her cloths and get in the pool!  Did I mention that randomly, people were walking by the pool!  I couldn’t believe it.  I have been out with her before when she is drunk and she has never done anything like this.  That and the fact that she was fine one second and crazy the next made me think she had taken something or someone slipped something in her drink. So I texted the guy we left at the bar.  He just gave her 2 rum and cokes.  She should have been fine.  So, I managed to get her out of the pool and get her cloths on her (even though I had to fight her to put her pants on!)  We got her shoes on her and were getting ready to go when she decided to run back into the pool.  She was sopping wet when she came out again.  Our friend from the bar came and met us by the pool.  He wanted to make sure we were all ok.  So, my girlfriend tried to get all of us to get in the pool.  No one would go in with her.  She got in about up to the knee and wouldn’t come out.  Our friend from the bar was like “Don’t make me tackle you in the pool.”  So she started in on him “What?  Whatcha gonna do, huh?  Nothing!  You aren’t gonna do a damn thing!”  He quietly emptied his pockets and tackled her.  It was so funny.  Of course then they discovered the water slide.  So they are drunk, sopping wet in their cloths, and coming down a water slide.  That is when security came by to tell us that the pool was closed.  He was walking around the other side of the pool when my girlfriend ran after him and grabbed his arm.  We were too far away to hear what she said but the guy who had been observing all of this with me just said “Oh my god, she is accosting him!  Can I be deported for this?”  LOL!  After one more ride down the slide, we sat her down and got her shoes back on her.  Did I mention that they were gold strappy heals with that stupid ankle buckle that is had to do when you are sober?  So, we got them on her, she had one arm around my shoulders and the other sopping wet guy was holding her up on the other side.  As we walked back through the casino, people were staring at us like we were green with red spots.  She kept slipping and almost falling.  We got her outside and into my car.  I drove the boys to their cars and took her home.  On the way she was like “Are we going to my car?  I can drive.”  Only it was more like “Are we go-wing too my caaaar?  I can dwive.”  No you can’t!  I got her home and inside.  On my drive home she called me because she didn’t know where her car was and wanted to go get it.  I told her to go to bed and call me in the morning.  At about 2:30/3am, I get another phone call.  She had a fight with her boyfriend and was like “I don’t even have my car to go for a drive.”  I told her she shouldn’t be driving upset anyway and to try to get some rest.  Needless to say she didn’t make it to work the next day and didn’t remember what had happened the night before.  I went and picked her up at about 2:30/3pm and we went to get her car and have some breakfast.  By the time we finished eating, I had to head off to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work was good Thursday.  We did food tastings.  Now I NEVER eat before going to work.  I’m usually starving.  How come the one day I ate, we have food tastings?  I ate so much that I thought I was going to die!  We had salads and quesadillas.  They were really good!  The steak on the salad and in the quesadilla was soooo good.  We also had more wine.  I left my wine list at work, so I can’t tell you which ones we had right now.  I’ll tell you later.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday we got in the wine shipments.  There were somewhere between 250 and 300 cases of wine delivered.  So, I went into work early to help unpack.  I figured it would help me become familiar with their names, categories, and locations in the retail side.  From 2pm to 2am, minus a short 2 hour break for training which included food tastings again, I carried boxes and stacked bottles.  It was like doing squats for 8 hours because I was putting most of the ones on the bottom shelves away.  I was so sore yesterday that it hurt to move.  The advantage of staying late is that a) we were getting paid for it and b) to thank us they cracked open a couple of the 10 grapes for us to have.  Those are the expensive red wines.  There was a malbec that was soooo good.  I’ll have to remember the name of it to tell ya’ll about it later.  We had some of the spreads and the pisas.  The smoked salmon pisa was my favorite.  I didn’t really think I’d like it that much, but it was excellent.  The hummus and spinach and bacon dips were both good too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we had to add medallions to all of the wines (little labels with a description and price on one bottle) and unpack some more boxes.  We did some more training and ate some more food too.  It was the appetizers.  The lamb chops, crab cakes and chicken &amp; Portobello quiche were all very good.  We also had deserts!   The Le Chocolate was so good!  It’s a chocolate shell with flourless chocolate cake and chocolate moose in it, with butter toffee, caramel, and strawberry sauce.  They also have a really good blackberry jasmine green ice tea.  Yummy!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we are supposed to have the day off, but they need some people to help set up the restaurant for friends and family day on Monday.  I have had the hardest time trying to find friends and family to come in!  I am working lunch and most people I know are too far to come for lunch.  Anyone in the area want to come in for some wine and food?  One of the bartenders and servers are roommates and they are having a cookout today.   I’ll probably stop by work for a bit then head on over there for a while.  Hey, a girl’s gotta eat…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115185207842854996?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115185207842854996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115185207842854996' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115185207842854996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115185207842854996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-weekend-started-wednesday-how-about.html' title='My weekend started Wednesday, how about yours?'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115137570619219207</id><published>2006-06-26T22:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T09:08:09.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't really have time to post now.  I'll write about my busy busy day tomorrow.  I just wanted to say that the food network show I saw being taped is on.  If ya'll don't watching cooking shows or don't just want to see the island I was on, ignore this.  Otherwise, check out the food network's The Secret Life of... which is on right now, they re-run it in a few hours, and I think they replay it again on saturday or sunday.  It's cool to see the people I have met and the places I have been.  Now, it's the secret life of Island food and I didn't see the begining of it so it may not be all Anguilla.  If you need a refresher about my trip, I posted several things around this &lt;a href="http://makochan13.blogspot.com/2006/02/greetings-from-anguilla.html"&gt;day&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115137570619219207?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115137570619219207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115137570619219207' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115137570619219207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115137570619219207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-dont-really-have-time-to-post-now.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115086551469362042</id><published>2006-06-21T00:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T00:51:54.713-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, the Heat won.  I admit it, I didn't think they would.  I wanted them to, but I just didn't think they could win in Dallas.  Go Heat!  (I still love the Lakers best, though!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found some good honeymoon options.  Thanks for all of the suggestions.  Now I’m hearing that they really want to go on a cruise or go to the Caribbean.  Ummm, excuse me!  You don’t have any money!  And you don’t have a passport!  Chele and Aziza, I suggested VA beach to them.  I’ve always liked it there.  Nikki, they’ve lived in the Indiana/Kentucky/Tennessee area for all of their lives.  I want to find something a bit different for them.  Jdid, Niagara is not a bad idea, but the US side is supposed to suck.  Can they get into Canada without a passport these days?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a good lunch today.  It was Barbeque Day at my old job.  Every Tuesday for as long as I remember, the guys have gone to this BBQ restaurant for lunch.  The girls go every once in a blue moon, opting for vegetarian Indian or a sandwich instead.  Well, I went to have lunch with ShellyP and E.  Somehow all of the office ended up at BBQ.  It was pretty uneventful, but I did get to see Shel’s growing belly and shirking eyebrows.  Check out her page to see what I’m talking about.  I was told that my computer still worked and asked when my world wind travels were going to start.  And of course I made my fried wontons and took them in for El Stomach.  She ate a ton of them, then went to BBQ!  I bet she had a snack when she got back to the office too.  That girl can eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was my first official day of work.  It was good.  We just had 4 hours of training.  Every one seemed nice.  I’m only going to remember 3 people’s names and it would be 2 if two of the girls didn’t have the same name.  Did I mention that I have a horrible memory?  The memory thing also comes into play because we have to memorize the menu, all of the ingredients, and a bunch of other stuff like the 10 categories of wine they have.  Other than that, it should be cool and I think I’ll like working there.  The only thing is, there is no telling when work will actually start!  They are still getting all the building/inspection stuff done.  The next training session isn’t until Friday.  So, What do I do for the next 2.5 days?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115086551469362042?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115086551469362042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115086551469362042' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115086551469362042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115086551469362042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/06/so-heat-won.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115032547303415960</id><published>2006-06-14T18:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T18:51:13.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another busy couple of days</title><content type='html'>It has been so great not working.  I have off until Tuesday, so I am trying to take advantage of it.  Yesterday I stayed in my pajamas until about 5:30.  Then a friend of mine came by.  She is moving to Tampa, so it would be our last night hanging out.  We went to this Mexican place that I love.  They have the absolute best vegetarian quesadillas.  They also have really good prickly pear margaritas.  So we hung out for a while and had a great dinner.  She gave me a book to read, Confessions of a Video Vixen.  She has read it and kept saying I should too, so she just brought it over.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my girlfriend called me up to invite me to go shopping with her and her son.  There was a 1 day sale at Macy’s.  I just knew I was going to run into ShelllyP there! LOL!  I was pretty good about it though.  I only bought some bracelets.  They were $17 marked down from $60.  I knew I shouldn’t have gotten them but for some reason I’ll been obsessed with bracelets lately.  I have gotten 5 or so in the last 5 months.  I’m not really a big jewelry person either.  I have just really been liking bracelets lately.  I’m not a big shoe person either, but I was very tempted because it was buy one pair get the second for $1.  I didn’t get any, though.  It was just really nice to hang out with my girlfriend, KR.  I haven’t seen her lately.  We shopped, chatted, and had lunch.  It was a great way to spend the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am trying to plan out my little “Sis’s” honeymoon.  My college roommate and I were like sisters.  Her family is like my family.  Well, her sister is getting married and I am helping to plan the honey moon.  Any suggestions on where they can go, on a budget?  They are going in April for about a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115032547303415960?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115032547303415960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115032547303415960' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115032547303415960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115032547303415960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/06/another-busy-couple-of-days.html' title='Another busy couple of days'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-115022735379777122</id><published>2006-06-13T15:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T13:48:31.643-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Days of Freedom</title><content type='html'>I have been enjoying my first days of freedom.  Probably a bit too much, even.  Friday, after my exit interview, I decided that I couldn’t sit at home this weekend.  I know myself and I would be very down.  I would start to question if I had made the right decision and freak out a little bit.  So, I drove up to Savannah, GA to see a friend of mine from high school, SS.  I haven’t seen him in years so I figured we’d gossip about whatever guy he was dating and I’d get to see a city I’ve always wanted to see.  Plus, a new environment would be good for me.  This would be my first stop in my around the world travel.  So, I drove up.  On the way, I stopped by Jacksonville to see BendaBald.  It was sooo good to see him and wifey and the kids.  I have really missed them.  I’m going to try to go see them again soon.  Maybe I’ll drag ShellyP with me.  I’m sure she’d love to see her ex-work husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/907/1178/1600/fountain%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/907/1178/320/fountain%202.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Savannah was so great.  It was beautiful.  When I was in college, there was this show called Savannah on TV.  Think Desperate Housewives with southern accents.  My roommate and I would watch it every week so when I told her I was going to Savannah, she was so excited.  SS has been living there for years, going to art school.  I haven’t seen him in 8 or 9 years, but we’ve kept in touch via the phone and email.  So, it was nice to see him and to see the city.  When I got to his house on Friday he gave me the tour of his place, which is really cute and we just went to sleep.  It was after midnight and I had been driving all night, so I was exhausted.  Saturday, we decided to do a little walking tour of the historic district.  I thought the houses were beautiful and every so often there would be a little square with a fountain, gazebo, or monument of some kind.  It was so nice.  I took a ton of pictures.  We met up with his friends (Jes and B) and went to lunch at a Mexican place.  Then 3 of us took a tour on a trolley, B had to work.  It was great.  The tour guide gave us a million historical facts and we got to see everything.  The only bad part of the day was that it was SO HOT!  I thought I was going to die from the heat.   I mean, I am used to heat down here in Ft. Lauderdale, but at least here we have the breeze off of the ocean.  Plus, it’s not like I walk around anywhere here.  After dinner and all that sun, Jes and I were exhausted so we went to SS’s place to rest a bit.  Jes left so that she could shower and we hung out till B came over so that we could go out.  They decided to take me on a bar hopping tour.  Basically the plan was to walk downtown and stop in all of their hang outs.  We’d get one drink at every bar and therefore be able to make it to almost all of them.  It was so much fun!  They knew everyone one.  All of the bars were pretty cool.  There was one club like one with hip-hop that I had a blast dancing at.  We were pretty much drunk by that time, so we didn’t stay very long.  And there was a piano bar that was ok.  I really didn’t care for the music and it was really loud.  Some of the smaller local hangouts were the best.  By the around 2am (I think we started around 10) Jes and I were stumbling back to her place.  The boys were trying to pick people up, so we left them there.  The next day Jes didn’t even remember that.  I’m so glad she remembered the way home otherwise we would have been lost.  Luckily Jes lives down the street from SS.  We got to her house and promptly fell asleep on the couch.  Around 3 something, B came and got me.  We went back to SS’s house and the 3 of us hung out till about 4 just talking.  I wouldn’t let B drive home that night.  I’m really strict on the whole drinking and driving thing.  I won’t let anyone do it while I’m around.  So, SS went to bed and B and I spend a while more talking.  Let me just say B is not my type at all.  He seemed to show off a bit and I thought he was immature when I first met him.  He drinks too much and smokes too much for my tastes.  But he is really cute. When I first met him and Jes, I really thought we would have nothing in common.  I was right about Jes, but after talking to B with no one around, I got to see a different side of him.  We spend hours talking Saturday night and Sunday night.  We actually did have stuff in common, like he lived in Japan for 3 year and he lived in Michigan for a while.  We are both from the southwest and his birthday is about a week after mine.  And did I mention that he was really cute?  Well, let’s just say that I got to know B a little better than I should have over the weekend and let’s just leave it at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, I couldn’t get the boys out of bed.  If I’ve been drinking, sometimes I have a hard time sleeping.  Not to mention I don’t sleep well in strange places and I was on a sofa bed in the very bright living room.  So, by 8:30 I was fully awake.  The boys slept till around 12 when I forced them to get up.  We had lunch and then I napped while the boys watched soccer.  Then I decided to cook for them.  I made gyoza (Japanese dumplings), teriyaki chicken, broccoli, and rice.  Jes came over for dinner.  After that, I was kind of tired.  I ended up going to bed and Jes went home to do laundry.  I probably fell asleep at 11:30 and was awoken by someone coming in at 1:30.  It was B, coming to get the bottle of rum to take down to Jes’ place.  They knew I was sleep so they went to hang out down here.  Since I was up, I called them and told them they could come back whenever.  Once I’m woken up, I’m just up.  So they came back and we all hung out for a while.  SS went to bed and B and I spend hours talking.  I ended up going back to sleep around 5.  At 6:30 I woke up to make my long drive home.  Needless to say I was exhausted, but I had to be back by 3 for an interview.  Yes, I said interview.  It’s not in my nature to sit around, so I knew I had to get something lined up.  After getting back and doing all of my running around, I went to nap at 5:30 and didn’t wake up till midnight.  Then I went back to seep and have been up since 7 this morning.  Crazy weekend huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, on to the interview.  There is this new wine bar opening on &lt;a href="http://www.lasolasboulevard.com/"&gt; Las Olas&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;.  Now I was a waitress part time a few years back.  It was when I was buying my house, so I really needed the extra money and some friends of mine really needed the help.  When I was doing it, I met so many people and I had a ball doing it.  So, why not be a waitress while waiting for my house to see?  I’m excited about this because I love wine and the menu looks really good.  Training starts next week, so until then, I’m on vacation!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-115022735379777122?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/115022735379777122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=115022735379777122' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115022735379777122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/115022735379777122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/06/first-days-of-freedom.html' title='First Days of Freedom'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114986038731636405</id><published>2006-06-09T09:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T09:39:47.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;IT'S MY LAST DAY OF WORK!  WOO HOOOO!!!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114986038731636405?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114986038731636405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114986038731636405' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114986038731636405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114986038731636405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/06/its-my-last-day-of-work-woo-hoooo.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114954010367744346</id><published>2006-06-05T16:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T16:52:10.963-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4 days...</title><content type='html'>Ya'll are never going to believe what happened today.  One-Screen Jeff quit today!!  The office was surprised, even more surprised that his end date is FRIDAY.  I gave him shit already about me giving a month and him, not even a week.  I've been told that I am being quarantined for the rest of the time here because I am spreading something.  Oh well.  Life goes on.  Poor Ori, now she has to do my crap plus all the builds again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, still haven't talked to my girl but I'm waiting for her to ask to stay with me.  I'm not going to let her, even though ya'll know I have a weakness for kids.  But guess who did call me while I was on my death bed.  That's right, Crazy Ass Lisa!  "Hi, I just wanted to see how you were doing and to make sure you got the picture of J I sent you."  What the hell?  I'm just going to ignore it and move on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The count down has begun.  I am done working here in 4 days!  Then I am officially unemployed, but happy.  I'm trying to slack off a bit, but as Shelly pointed out, not with IL on my ass.  IL is great and all, but I'm going to end up killing her after a week of "Why is it like this?  Where is that documented? How does this work?"  While some may just call her through, I will call her a pain in the ass for 4 more days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114954010367744346?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114954010367744346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114954010367744346' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114954010367744346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114954010367744346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/06/4-days.html' title='4 days...'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114932251466849797</id><published>2006-06-03T03:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-03T04:15:14.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>3:22 AM</title><content type='html'>I can't sleep.  Trish just called.  I can always tell when she's been drinking or indulging in something else.  This time I think it was just alcohol, but who knows.  Trish has always had problems.  When I met her she had her life together, but not so much any more.  I love her to death, but I don't know what to do about her.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you a little background.  She ran the apartment complex that I moved into when I first came to Florida.  She is a few years older than me.  She had two little boys from her marriage and was dating the father of her third child, who was born a few years after I met her.  She had a troubled past, but was trying to set things straight and do right for her boys.  She and her man back then had issues.  The only good thing out of that relationship was their daughter.  Trish didn't have any family support and few friends that were willing to include the kids.  I loved the kids and didn't mind being around them at all.  I would go over after work and help her make dinner and fold laundry.  With two young boys, she was constantly doing laundry.  After her daughter was born and she and the father split up, she moved to the west coast of Florida where some of her family was to try to get some help.  That didn't help at all and she always told me she wanted to move back whenever I came to visit.  The last time I talked to her, Her family was giving her a hard time, she was dating some guy that was bad news, and she had just lost her job. Things were bad all around.  She asked me if I would take her kids if something ever happened to her, which worried me.  She sounded depressed and I was worried that she would do something bad.  Loving the kids is one thing, but I didn't know if I could be a single parent of 3 kids under the age of 13.  That was the last time we talked.  We played phone tag a couple of times, but never really connected.  Then her number was disconnected.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our conversation was very brief.  She moved to Alabama with her kids because something bad had gone down with the guy she was dating.  She didn't give me details.  She doesn't have a job and she was saying how hard it was to find something there.  She is thinking about moving in with her ex in MIA, which is bad news considering the last time I saw the two of them together they couldn't even stop arguing for an hour!  I know what is going to happen.  She is going to ask to stay with me until she gets on her feet.  I just quit my job.  I can't support her and 3 kids!  Even if I hadn't quit my job, I can't support her and 3 kids!  I have a 2 bedroom townhouse.  Where would they even stay?  She wants me to call her tomorrow, what am I gonna do...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114932251466849797?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114932251466849797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114932251466849797' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114932251466849797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114932251466849797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/06/322-am.html' title='3:22 AM'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114926487487289260</id><published>2006-06-02T12:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T16:47:36.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'>dying...</title><content type='html'>I've been dying.  I have had a fever since Tuesday and I've barely made it out of bed.  It's been horrible.  Headache, fever, throat hurting so bad I can't swallow(Hey!  Keep it clean people!)  If it hadn't been for Shelly I'd be dead by now.  Shel send her mom over to take care of me.  She brought soup and ginger ale and did the dishes.  Then she drove me to the Dr and to the pharmacy afterwards.  Thanks Shelly's Mom!  Oh, and I will never buy chicken soup again if it doesn't come from a jamacian place.  I mean, slightly spicy, whole chicken pieces, dumpling, yams and other stuff I can't identify.  It rocks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have a lovely story for you because of my illness.  As stated before, I went to the pharmacy yesterday.  So, I'm walking like a little old lady cuz my body aches, dressed in Sweat pants and a huge fuzzy sweatshirt(did I mention it was ... oh... 85/90 degrees in Florida yesterday?), hair uncombed, and guess what happens.  Some kid, and I do mean KID, comes over and tries to call himself flirting with me.  I wanted to hit him with the box of tissues I was carrying!  How old was he anyway?  I swear, he looked 18!  I rolled my eyes and headed right for the pharmacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I have internet at home!  I know, I know, I am the worst engineer ever, right?  I just got a laptop and internet access.  I had to do something since a week from today, I can't just check my email at work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, getting a bit lightheaded from sitting up so long.  I have to finish my post about my eventful weekend and about my possible new job later.  I'll catch up on all of ya'll blogs later too, I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114926487487289260?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114926487487289260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114926487487289260' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114926487487289260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114926487487289260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/06/dying.html' title='dying...'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114901887709342490</id><published>2006-05-30T15:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T15:54:37.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My What?</title><content type='html'>Alright, I give up!  I give up!  I started a stinking myspace page.  Now, I have been resisting this for the longest time.  But I get it all the time.  Email invitations from friends to start pages, "Have you seen so and so on myspace?", "Why don't you have a page?"  I have resisted thus far, but an old high school friend kept telling me about all these people on there.  So I gave up.  I signed up just so that I can do a stupid search, but don't expect me to post shit there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114901887709342490?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114901887709342490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114901887709342490' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114901887709342490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114901887709342490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-what.html' title='My What?'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114848323007346015</id><published>2006-05-24T11:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T11:07:10.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions</title><content type='html'>Lately a million questions have popped into my head. Here are some of those random things I’ve had on my mind…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I buy gas yesterday and today it went down to $2.76?  Yesterday it was $2.81!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did my Canadian co-worker announce yesterday that he liked a rap song??  It’s some new song by Nelly Furtado and Timberland, who he called Timberlane by the way.  I think he just likes Nelly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is my friend constantly telling me she wants me to meet her realtor in Tampa?  Do I live in Tampa? Am I going to date someone that lives 3 to 4 hours away? Ummm, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people keep trying to get me to come visit them?  Do they not realize that since I just quit my job, I am going to be broke?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come it is Hurricane Preparedness week and no one I know is getting prepared? (Tax free hurricane items in FL)  I need to hit the Home depot for Batteries!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did one of my friends refer to one of my co-workers as eye candy?  Ewww!  I wouldn’t refer to ANY of my co-workers as eye candy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come a few of us went to a Cajun festival the other day and we were the only black people that weren’t working there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why won’t Shelly pick what b-day goodie she wants?  Now I have to think about what I want to make and I can’t blame her if it’s chocolate.  (Some of our co-workers don’t eat chocolate and I always feel guilty when I bring something chocolate in.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do my co-workers keep making up stories as to where I’m going?  I won’t tell them and I think they are having a ball with it.  There has been, I’m pregnant, I’m moving to Anguilla, I’m marrying an NFL player, I won the lottery, I’m having Ben’s baby and moving to be with him and his wife, I’m having a co-worker’s baby and have to leave to hide our affair…  Did I mention that my co-workers are special?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114848323007346015?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114848323007346015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114848323007346015' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114848323007346015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114848323007346015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/05/questions.html' title='Questions'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114806335703687919</id><published>2006-05-19T14:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T14:29:17.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What a turn of events!</title><content type='html'>Ok, Every since I've quit, I have been so happy at work.  I have been smiling, going to lunch, participating in office conversation.  It's been great.  Everyone is asking me where I'm going and what I'm doing, but I just smile and don't say a thing.  It's none of their buisness, right?  Well, one of my co-workers was talking to me the other day.  They said they were thinking about quiting too!  I was shocked.  Quitting, selling the house, and moving away!  WHAT?  I had no idea.  This is someone I didn't think would EVER leave.  I am waiting now to see what is going to happen because they hadn't made a final decision yet, but this one will shock even ShellyP and BendaBald!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114806335703687919?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114806335703687919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114806335703687919' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114806335703687919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114806335703687919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-turn-of-events.html' title='What a turn of events!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114746421531708220</id><published>2006-05-12T16:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T16:03:35.320-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day Has Come!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dear XXX,&lt;br /&gt;This letter is to inform you of my resignation, effective June 9, 2006.  I appreciate having had the opportunity of being a member of XXX for so many years and offer my best wishes for your continued success.&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;SP&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is the letter that I presented to my boss this morning.  I couldn’t take it any more and why should I?  Contrary to what others may think, I have seriously thought this through and realized that I’ll survive no matter what.  If I fall on my face, oh well.  I’m young enough to get back up and dust myself off.  Not to mention that I don’t have anyone counting on me right now, so I don’t have that added pressure.  He tried to get me to stay, tried to get me to change my mind.  He offered me the summer off, with pay.  He said he would put me on a different project, even though we are already short staffed and I’ve been on this project for 6 years.  I said no.  My personal sanity and happiness is more important.  Now, I don’t have a job.  I do have some savings.  My house has not sold yet, but it’s still on the market.  I’m not 100% sure how everything is going to go, but I’ll have a month to figure it out.  And you know what, I’m already soooo much happier!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114746421531708220?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114746421531708220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114746421531708220' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114746421531708220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114746421531708220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/05/day-has-come_12.html' title='The Day Has Come!!!!!!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114712446183482850</id><published>2006-05-08T17:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T17:41:01.863-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is just bull shit.  I’m so not happy right now.  On Friday I was asked to do a quote on how long a particular piece of work would take.  I estimated 26 days.  Now, I know that I am crap at estimating things, so I used a nice little formula.  Plus, we always tend to underestimate and other things pop up that interrupt us so I padded it a bit.  Ben knows all about that.  Well, I was told “No, I’ve give you 20 days.”  WTF??  Why in the hell did you ask me, then?  Why do I even bother, Huh?  “Fine!  Whatever,” was my response.  Now, I was also promised that I would have 20 uninterrupted days.  No answering questions, no fixing other bugs, no test crap, no interruptions!  Yeah, right.  I KNEW that wasn’t going to happen.  How come I have already answered 3 people’s questions and fixed 2 bugs today?  What happened to leaving me the hell alone??  It’s 5:30 and I’m leaving.  They can kiss my ass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Lisa never called this weekend.  I really didn’t think that she would because she is flakey like that.  I had already decided that I wouldn’t answer if she called.  She knows where I live but I can’t even get into my gated community if I don’t’ have my card, so didn’t expect her to just pop up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I went to see a girlfriend of mine and her hubby and son.  I love going over there.  Her little boy is just so cute and her hubby is a gourmet cook!  After dinner, he was trying to decide who he wanted to tuck him in that night, the son, not the husband. ;o)  He looked at me and said “Sherie tuck tuck…”  I almost fell out of my chair.  ME??  Really?  Last time I was over he threw a fit, laying in the middle of his bedroom floor crying “Nooooo!  Mommy tuck tuck!”  For about a half hour before giving up and letting me tuck him in.  Actually it was really cute.  He had this phonics thing where all of the letters fit into a little hand held thing.  When you put a letter in it says it and says how it sounds.  We were doing good till we got to M and the damn thing said “M goes mmmmm.”  His little eyes just got all watery and he went “Mamaaaaa!”  When I finally did talk him into the bed, he still whimpered a bit while I was reading him a bedtime story. So, you can imagine my excitement when he was asking me to tuck him in.  Then of course he says “No… daddy tuck tuck.”  He’s such a tease and he is only 2!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114712446183482850?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114712446183482850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114712446183482850' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114712446183482850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114712446183482850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/05/this-is-just-bull-shit.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114673482965817624</id><published>2006-05-04T05:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T05:27:09.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Freaking Time is it???</title><content type='html'>No, you aren't imagining things.  I am really posting at 5am!  I can't believe I am here when the sun isn't up yet.  See, I am working on something with a guy in the UK for a customer in Hong Kong.  That's 5 hours ahead and 12 hours ahead.  This is really the only time we can all get together.  After all, we wouldn't expect the Hong Kong guys to stay late or anything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how I can't make decisions about my life?  Well, I was talking to Shelly yesterday and had a breakthrough.  I don't know if she brought it up or if I brought it up or how we even got on the conversation, but I'm so happy we did.  I want to own a book store!  Think about it, I'd be surrounded by all the books I could read.  I would have great new releases and classic books.  People could buy, sell, and trade used books.  From my summer living in Seattle, I know how to make any kind of coffee drink on earth.  From my love of cooking, there would be all kind of baked goodies.  And it all goes well, maybe I could have a little cafe for sandwitches and stuff.  What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I makde another important decision the other day.  I'm going to quit.  Yeah, I know what you are thinking.  "so, what's new about that?  You were already going to quit."  Well, I'm not going to wait till I sell the house.  I am just too stressed and worn out for all of this mess.  I am going to find another job asap.  I'd rather work 2 minimum wage jobs to pay my bills if I have to rather than put up with this bull for any longer.  So this weekend, I begin the job hunt.  Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114673482965817624?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114673482965817624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114673482965817624' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114673482965817624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114673482965817624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-freaking-time-is-it.html' title='What Freaking Time is it???'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114649659011751583</id><published>2006-05-01T11:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T11:25:37.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Speechless</title><content type='html'>Remember my "friend" and I do use that term loosely, Lisa.  I talked about her &lt;a href="http://makochan13.blogspot.com/2006/02/oh-no-not-crack.html"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt; and a couple of other places.  Well, what I didn’t tell you is that she continued to send me emails about properties she was selling.  Alright, not me in particular, but she kept me on a mass emailing list.  So one day when I was not in a particularly good mood and you really have to read the earlier posts to get the whole history thing, I replied back to one.  I asked her to take me off of her mass emailing list.  I simply stated that I wasn’t about to buy any property and that it was rude of her to keep sending them to me when she couldn’t even speak to me.  Plus, I told her how much her voice mail from a little while back bothered me and how I wasn’t a business contact of hers, I was supposed to be her friend.  It was probably a bit much, but I was pissed.  Well, this heifer wrote back saying all kind of mess.  All of what I have to say is unimportant to her, that we were never friends, that she didn’t want me to call her again ever, that I take shit too personal and her year was touch.  She called me bitter and malice and made reference to some other friends we have that she is at odds with saying something about how I was like the rest of them and only supported friends that were perfect.  And then to top it all off, she said “If it is any concern to you, J is fine, growing beautifully and happy.”  I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to bring her son into this!  You can imagine how pissed I was right?  Well, I had no intention of contacting her again until I read her letter.  I didn’t write her an angry letter.  I just felt like I couldn’t let her live in her delusional world.  So I wrote her back simply stating the facts.  Here are some excerpts, there was more but it was too much to put here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“If you never considered me a friend then that’s on you, but I considered you  one... Don’t try to make this seem like you are the victim here.  I know you had a tough year.  I was there, remember?  I always told you that you could talk to me about anything bothering you, I called to check on you, I took you out when you wanted to go out, and I gave you money when you needed it.   What more did you want me to do?  Don’t act like I wasn’t there for you or like I wasn’t concerned for J.  I ALWAYS wonder how he is and worry about him.  You know I’ve always loved him, so don’t make this be about him.  And please don’t lump me in with everyone else.  Whatever issues you have with K and A are your issues with them, not me...  I wasn’t going to respond to your email but I though that you should at least know that I don’t think what you say is unimportant.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after sending this letter back in mid-march, I got no reply.  I really didn’t expect one and I really didn’t care.  While still concerned for her son’s safety and worried about the possibility that she is on crack (You really have to read the last story about her!), I just couldn’t deal any more.  I was truly done with her.  You may be asking why I am retelling all of this.  Well, it’s because Saturday morning my home phone rang.  I could hear it from in the shower.  When I got out, there was a missed call on my cell too.  It was a 239 number.  Well, that is Ft. Myers.  I instantly thought it might be a friend of mine over there who I lost touch with.  I was tempted to call it back, but I didn’t since I didn’t recognize the number and there was no message.  A minute later, the phone rang again from the same number.  I answered it.  “Hey!” “Ummm, Hi.”  “Are you busy?” “Ahhh, no” “How have you been?”  “Who is this?”  “It’s me...” “Me who?”(and now I’m getting a bit annoyed!) “It’s Lisa, Silly, how are you doing?”  I almost hit the floor!!  What was she doing calling me?  And then to have the nerve to call and act like nothing had happened??  She truly must be on crack.  Either that or the girl has multiple personalities.  I was absolutely speechless.  She chatted on about how the real-estate market was dead and she was living with her man over in Ft. Myers.  Her son, the one who I didn’t give a damn about, wasn’t even living with her! He was still over here with his father.  She asked how our mutual friend up in DC was and even ShellyP.  I couldn’t even say a fucking thing, I was in so much shock.  Then she told me that her friend from high school just died and she was over here last weekend for the funeral.  My first thought was “oh, she feels bad and now wants to make up because this loss has shown her that life is short.”  My second thought was “She was over here last weekend?  Why didn’t she call then if she really wanted to talk to me?”  Then came the biggie.  “I’ll be over there next weekend and I want to see you.”  Huh?  You gotta be kidding me!  You are truly psycho to act like nothing happened!  I don’t think I said 5 words the entire time we were on the phone.  I was just in shock.  I’m not really sure that I want to see her.  If I do, she is not going to get away with pretending nothing happened.  She will have to explain herself and her actions/words.  Even after that, I don’t know that I would want to see her again.  She is just too much for me to deal with at this point in my life.  I can only make an effort for people that are going to make an effort back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114649659011751583?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114649659011751583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114649659011751583' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114649659011751583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114649659011751583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/05/speechless.html' title='Speechless'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114616894809209230</id><published>2006-04-27T16:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T16:36:14.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my baby!</title><content type='html'>I really need to do something to cheer myself up.  I’ve been all strange lately.  I’m not sleeping at night and my head is killing me all of the time.  I’m anxious and can’t seem to relax or just be.  I’m all stressed out about everything and nothing.  Last night I was jittery and light headed for some reason.  It doesn’t help that I looked on Realtor.com earlier and there are 7 units for sale that are exactly like mine.  There are about 20 in my community when you count the 3 bedrooms, the lofts, and the ones with only 1.5 bathrooms.   I don’t know what kind of crack one person is smoking because theirs is listed for 255!  Umm, if the person listed for 210 can’t sell what makes you think you’ll get 255?  Even if the place needs work, it sure don’t need 45,000 work of work…  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I try to conserve I keep thinking I really need a trip.  I mean, yeah, maybe just a few days off would be good for my sanity/health, but sitting in the house will just remind me of the fact that it hasn’t sold yet.   I’m trying to think of somewhere I A) would want to go and B) can afford to go.  There is Anguilla, but I don’t have $600 to get there.  There’s VA, but that would encompass seeing way too many people in a short period of time as well as my mom’s “What are you going to do” questions.  And Seattle?  Well, it’s half the cost of Anguilla and I would get to see my baby…  But then again, without my parents there as a buffer, I’m liable to kill my sister or her husband.  Remember &lt;a href="http://www.makochan13.blogspot.com/2005/12/is-it-ever-going-to-change.html"&gt; him&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;?   But then again, the baby will make me happy…  Hmmm, that’s something to consider.  Even though I will be killed if my Sis ever found out, here’s a pic of my baby!  Isn’t she cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/907/1178/1600/IMG_2598.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/907/1178/320/IMG_2598.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114616894809209230?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114616894809209230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114616894809209230' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114616894809209230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114616894809209230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/my-baby.html' title='my baby!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114609876716092543</id><published>2006-04-26T20:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T09:27:25.300-04:00</updated><title type='text'>6 things</title><content type='html'>I couldn’t think of anything to write so I am going to take inspiration from all those other blogs doing a 6 things list.  So, here are 6 wacky, crazy or odd things about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I took wine appreciation my senior year of college because I didn’t like the taste of alcohol.  My excuse for not drinking prior to that was that it was a dry campus so there was no alcohol at parties and I wasn’t 21 so I couldn’t go to the bars.  I’m still not that into it, which is why I often become the DD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I took drama in high school to be more comfortable in front of groups.  It was ok.  When someone tells me exactly what to say and people can’t ask questions, I’m cool.  It’s when I have to give a presentation at work or something that I get super nervous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I really don’t have any goals or life aspirations.  Is that bad?  I have always just kind of done what was expected of me like college, a career, a house.  Nothing that I am or that I am doing right now was anything that I was passionate about.  It all just happened.  Maybe that’s why I really want to take a year and just travel.  It’s also why I can’t tell people when they ask me what I want to do with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I secretly want to be a stay at home mom.  Yeah, I know I have this expensive education and equality for women and feminism blah blah blah… whatever.  I would love to just be a mom and a wife. I used to pack lunches for my roommates for goodness sakes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  If I was getting any, I’d be pregnant by now.  Not on purpose, mind you.  I just constantly forget to take my pill.  This afternoon around 4 I realized that I forgot it again today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I have always struggled with my weight and my family doesn't make it any better.  They like to give "helpful suggestions" which in reality make it much worse.  You know when someone says something that really bothers you, it makes you want to do the opposite just to spite them?  Yeah, that's us.  "You aren't going to eat that are you?"  "Well, I wasn't but now I am!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114609876716092543?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114609876716092543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114609876716092543' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114609876716092543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114609876716092543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/6-things.html' title='6 things'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114557394331586441</id><published>2006-04-20T18:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T19:03:48.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What an Ass!</title><content type='html'>Ya’ll will be happy to know that I was a good girl yesterday morning.  I didn’t have a drink till at least 5:15!  LOL.  I was so tempted to because Shel and I went to lunch.  Usually we run errands, take a walk, or just pick up something and bring it back.  Yesterday, I just couldn’t sit at my desk for another minute.  So, we went to Chili’s, had chips and salsa, and talked about non-work things.  I did end up with a few drinks in me at the end of the night.  I had to put up with an ASS to get them, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My manager was planning to take SW out to dinner since it was his night here.  In the old days, anytime anyone was in town or if someone had been here for a while and was going back, everyone got invited out.  Now days, the managers and maybe if you worked with the person directly, you get invited.  I admit that the old days were a blatant misuse of company funds and we all just ate and drank ourselves silly, but when you are given that, it’s hard to take a step back. You feel like you lost some perk when you really shouldn’t have had it in the first place.  The only time I feel like “I want to go” is when they are going to a really great restaurant that I love or that I’ve always wanted to try, which isn’t that often.  Well, yesterday, one of the managers came over and whispered to me “do you want to come to dinner tonight with us?”  Now, remember me mentioning yesterday that I got in at 8?  Well, being as I am usually just getting out of bed at 8, I couldn’t think of a reason not to go.  Plus the man was all up on me.  I felt pressure, so I agreed to go.   Thinking about the whole thing, I started to feel like something was up.  Did I do something?  Are they just trying to make sure I’m “happy” like they did when Ben first left?  The 3 managers are going because they always go for the free meals and SW was going because he was their excuse, but why me?  Shelly and I speculated for a while a then two of the managers started talking about it.  One said “Is it just 6 of us?” and the other one said “Yeah, I asked everyone and no one wanted to come.”  Shel was like “Everyone, huh?  Didn’t ask me!”  He asked her but she declined.  I really wish she had come, but if I was asked as an afterthought, I wouldn’t have come either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on to dinner, it ended up being 2 managers from here, one from the UK, the guy that was leaving and the test guy.  I was the only girl, which I’m used to, and the only minority, which I’m very used to.  The evening started with drinks, which they always do.  The guys were their normal selves.  Now, I didn’t know this manager from the UK.  The only thing I know about him is that the last time he was here it was with a bunch of other guys from the UK.  Some of these guys had a bad reputation already and when they came, Lizzy and I were warned about them.  Apparently they were also told to stay away from all the ladies in the office.  Well, all of these guys went down to south beach for a night out and the next morning, they returned without the manager!  Apparently he had been left down there.  He was found and somehow made it back to the hotel, but I’m still not sure that we got the whole story.  As we sat and had drinks before dinner, I started to see how maybe he was just as bad as the guys that were here before.  Through out drinks and even dinner, he was crude and a bit of an ass.  He said things that would have been appropriate maybe around the guys, but NOT around me.  Everything had a sexual connotation and he even ogled these women for quite a while.  I mean, the guys always look at women when they come in to a place, but he was leering at them continuously and even ignored SW when he was speaking to him.  I tried to just ignore him or change the subject because I was there with my bosses.  I mean, my bosses say stuff sometimes that isn’t really appropriate at work, but I’ve known them for 6 years!  This guy I just met and he said stuff above and beyond anything they would say in my or any other women’s presence.  At one point we were talking about a new woman that works in the UK.  He actually said when asked if he had met her before "Oh yeah!  I met her, then came in my pants!"  I just couldn’t believe it.  What an ass.  But I was good.  I had a couple of Martinism, a glass or two of wine, and pretended not to hear most of what he said.  Hopefully I’ll be gone soon anyway and won't have to depend on pompus sexist asses to sign my paychecks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114557394331586441?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114557394331586441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114557394331586441' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114557394331586441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114557394331586441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/what-ass.html' title='What an Ass!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114545799241403664</id><published>2006-04-19T10:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T10:46:32.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More of my Randomness</title><content type='html'>Ok, first off, can I just say I love you guys!  Don’t get me wrong, I love all of ya’ll but I gotta call some people out this morning.  When I got in this morning at 8,(YES, ME!  At 8AM!) I had a nice message from NYABG.  Then as I am already toiling away around 9, Shawn and Chele come with the encouragement.  I tell you, this just makes my morning.  Well, that and hearing Little Sidney say “Morning Auntie, Sherie” on the days I pick ShellyP up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we went to this really great Spanish restaurant in Little Havana.  It was Casa Panza, on Calle Ocho.  We had pitchers of Sangria and lots of Tapas.  There was a singer and lots of dancing.  I admit.  I suck at dancing to Salsa, Meringue, and anything remotely similar to that.  But it was so much fun anyway.  There were 7 of us, 2 couples and 3 single people, but only 2 women.  At one point JG and his partner were dancing, IL and her hubby were dancing, and SW and I were dancing.  Then JG and IL switched partners.  SW just said to me “I am NOT dancing with JG!”  I was laughing so hard!  So IL and I switched and I danced with JG’s partner.  He was so funny because he kept bumping into this REALLY hot guy on purpose.  I didn’t stop dancing because I was tired, I had to stop because my sides hurt from laughing so hard.  It was great, just what the DR ordered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t tell you guys about the book release party I went to, did I? It’s the book Fly On the Wall by Trista Russell.  Now, I’m not much for this type of book really, but I am a huge book fan.  I would have probably never picked it up browsing in a store, but I’m about ¾ of the way through and it’s pretty good.  Sister can sure paint a vivid (STEAMY) picture.  Maybe it’s just me, maybe I just need a man, but OH MY!  Anyway, the premise of the story is a bit controversial.  It’s about a 32 year old teacher that is dating her 18 year old student.  It’s not illegal, it’s just a bit unethical and kinda icky.  The party was nice.  It was a little bit of a drive, but not that bad.  ShellyP came along with another friend.  There was food, drinks, gift bags, prizes, and people re-enacted scenes from the book.  The room was decorated with plastic bugs everywhere.  Why did it take me half way through the thing to realize why there were plastic flies stuck to the wall?  Umm, Duh!  Fly On the Wall…  and I wasn’t even drinking.  LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SW leaves tomorrow.  He has been here for about 2 months and I’ll miss him.  He works over in our office in England.  It’s been great having him here.  I think I’ve done more the past couple of months than I did my first year here in Florida.  I can easily spend my weekends in my pajamas reading and watching TV if I don’t have encouragement to get out.  Besides that, SW has traveled everywhere is encourages me to do the same.  And he sees some of the issues we have in our office that Shelly, Ben, and I talk about all the time.  It’s nice when an outsider agrees with you because it kind of validates that there are issues and you aren’t just complaining for nothing.  Anyway, He’s off to Brazil when he gets back to England and after that, who knows.  He said if I’m over there on my world wind traveling, I can stay with him and his fiancé.  One of my other co-workers over there offered to take me to France and we have family friends in Germany.  It looks like I’m all set if I travel Europe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. This post started off so positive, but I’m not feelin’ it anymore.  I was determined not to bitch about work, but they are already stressing me the fuck out and it’s not even 11!  I think I need a drink…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114545799241403664?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114545799241403664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114545799241403664' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114545799241403664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114545799241403664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/more-of-my-randomness.html' title='More of my Randomness'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114537278660819354</id><published>2006-04-18T11:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T11:06:26.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Do you ever have one of those days that just start off bad?  Well, I guess it’s not bad, but in the very least draining.  I was pissed at work AGAIN yesterday.  I just hate it when people imply that I broke something when they really did it.  Anyway, that’s another story, so I won’t get into it.  I had a dream last night that my boss was asking me if I was ok and how things are going.  If anyone knows him, they know he says that crap all the time.  It’s like he’s trying to be one of those touchy feely “I care about your wellbeing” bosses, but it never seems to come out right.  It feels like he is trying too hard and is kind of creepy in reference to the women in the office.  Plus, you know that he’s not REALLY listening anyway.  See, he tends to have a selective memory when it comes to promotions, raises, and just about anything you want/need that wasn’t his idea.  Anyway, in my dream he gave me the standard “You can talk to me line.”  So in my dream, I told him I was going to South East Asian in December.  I let him know that I’d be gone a month and would take unpaid leave if I didn’t have enough vacation time.  He said that it was impossible and started talking about how “the business” would perceive it.  Then he was saying how busy we were and that I couldn’t go.  I told him that I was going.  That I needed this break and it was important to my personal sanity.  Then I told him that if he had a problem with it he’d better hire my replacement before December if he wanted me to train them.  I felt weird and very out of it when I woke up.  For a second, I had to think about if it was a dream or not.  Did I just basically quit my job?  What about the house?  Oh, wait…just a dream.  Damn.  In my dream I went through all the emotions.  First I was still pissed from yesterday.  Then I was nervous about telling my boss my plans.  I was excited, I stood up for myself and told them how it was gonna be.    Then I was terrified that I couldn’t pay my mortgage.  And finally relieved and a little sad when I realized it was all a dream.  I was so tired from all that that I was ready for bed again.  So of course it doesn’t make matters any better that a) there’s no coffee made when I get to work and b) I get a ton of shit thrown at me as soon as I walk through the door.  Maybe my dream IS destine to come true…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114537278660819354?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114537278660819354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114537278660819354' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114537278660819354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114537278660819354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/do-you-ever-have-one-of-those-days.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114494321388191032</id><published>2006-04-13T11:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T11:53:11.983-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A trip around the world</title><content type='html'>I am dying here at work every day.  I feel like I am stuck.  I just want to get out and travel.  In case you all didn’t already know, I want to take a year and just travel.  I was hoping to take all of 2006, but as you can see, I’m still sitting here at my desk pretending to write code while sneaking and reading other people’s blogs.  As long as I do something dramatic(or just loud) like eject the card or change the key positions, people tend to assume I’m doing something.  (BdaB and Shelly, ya’ll know what I’m talking about! LOL)  Anway, I’ve kind of made tentative plans for my travel but as the weeks/months tick away I keep crossing stuff off my lists.  I really just need to sell my house so the adventure can begin.  Are you sure none of you want to buy a lovely home in sunny south florida?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travel Plans for 06 (what’s left anyway!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June/July – Santiago Chile&lt;br /&gt;- A good friend of mine just found out she got an intership in Chile.  She is at Georgetown studying law right now.  She invited me to come visit while she is there. Being that I haven’t been to south America, I really want to go.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August – Anguilla, BWI&lt;br /&gt;- Remember how I loved my “work” trip to Anguilla?  Well I definitely want to go back.  I’ve kept in touch with people I met there and August is their carnival.  Essie, who I mentioned back in the trip posts one of which is &lt;a href="http://makochan13.blogspot.com/2006/03/tuesday.html"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;, said that I could stay with her if I go.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October – Germany/Spain&lt;br /&gt;- A cousin of a friend of mine has moved to Germany.  Now this friend and all of her family are like family to me.  Her grandmother calls me her 6th grandchild and I’m auntie to all of the little kids.  The plan here is to go visit the cousin, well more so to see her son.  We love that little boy and my friend practically raised him until they moved to Germany.  While there, we were going to fly down to Spain too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December – South East Asia&lt;br /&gt; -  Now if I don’t go on a single trip all year, I’m going on this one!  A little while back I was talking to my girl Lee, who I mentioned &lt;a href="http://makochan13.blogspot.com/2005/07/dont-you-love-visitors.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://makochan13.blogspot.com/2005/07/weekend-update.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;, and in a couple of posts around those ones.  Her adventurous spirit has taken over me.  The girl is a few years younger than me and she has traveled the world and lived this adventurous life.  I’m telling you, I wanna be like her when I grow up!  LOL.  Anyway, her brother shares this spirit.  He is getting married at the end of the year and having his reception in the Philippines on New Years Eve.  She asked me if I wanted to go.  And of course since we are there, we’ll go to Thailand and Cambodia too.  Maybe Vietnam or China as well.  We could even go visit my family in Japan if we have time.  I am sooooo excited.  This trip will be unlike any other I’ve ever taken, and the adventure of a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, of course besides these great big trips, I have people to visit in Virginia(various cities), LA, Seattle, Cincinnati, Chicago, Las Vegas, Phoenix, Savannah, and somewhere in Oklahoma.  So between the big ones, I was going to pop in on everyone else.  Of course after the year of travel is up, I still have no clue as to what I’ll do.  I think I’m kind of happy that way, though.  I’ve always had everything planned.  I was really freaked out about not having a medical/dental plan and doing things alone (Chele you know I don’t do Jack alone!)   I’m the person that had a 401K at 21 and a house by 25. But now, I see that this is not the direction I want my life to be going in and I am happy with uncertainty.  Money isn’t everything, otherwise I’d stay here.  Security is great and I’d really love to have it again when I’m married and/or have kids.  For now, I just want to be able to breath…  and why not try the air in some other places?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114494321388191032?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114494321388191032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114494321388191032' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114494321388191032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114494321388191032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/trip-around-world.html' title='A trip around the world'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114469243970426405</id><published>2006-04-10T13:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T18:06:46.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Latin Funk and the Church</title><content type='html'>Thanks for all the well wishes.  Work still sucks, but I’m much better now.  I had another interesting weekend.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was invited to a First Friday event by a friend of mine.  It was a comedy show.  What he neglected to mention was that it was a church event involving 2 churches, sponsored by their Singles Ministries.  I kind of had a hint about how the evening was going to be when I had to fill out a questionnaire on the way it.  The first part was pretty standard.  Name, email, how you heard about it, would you come to another event.  Then it got into the “What church do you attend?  Are you saved?  Do you want to be saved tonight?  Etc.”  When all was said and done, I think I had no for every answer.  I just knew they were going to hunt me down afterwards to have an “intervention”.  It’s not that I am against church or God, I’m just not that into organized religion.  The show itself was ok.  There was an awful lot of talk about Non-believers and various jokes about things within the church that I didn’t care for.  There was some “You know them white people” jokes and things said about gay people that I really didn’t care for.  The music was good and they had a poet there who was good.  Over all it was pretty good.  I met one of the Pastors from one of the sponsoring church.  I kind of skirted by the “What church do you go to question” by mentioning that my friend invited us.  He started to go on and on about how he had helped so much with the planning and told me to make sure he brought us by Church one Sunday.  After meeting him, my girl and I were talking about how we wished we were more religious cuz he was  in his early 30s, cute, AND single!  LOL! Don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on a Pastor.  There won’t be any “So at Church today” stories.  By far the funniest part of the night was my girl D.  When the show started, a guy who organized the whole thing went up front to introduce the MC for the night.  As soon as he stood up and introduced himself as Omar, my girl grabbed my arm so hard, I almost cried.  “You are NEVER going to believe this!”  In a whispered voice, she related the story to me about how she knew Omar.  Ok, one day after work she went to Whole Foods because she wanted a cop of soup for dinner.  If you have never been to this grocery story, they have really good already prepared foods, including various soups and chowders.  Anyway, as soon as she got inside Omar, who was about 5 feet tall, approached D, about 5’10, and asked her “Do you date short men?”  THAT was his pickup line!  He then proceeded to follow her around the story asking her questions and giving her his card.  “Do you shop here a lot?”  “What kind of soup are you eating?”  “You gonna call me?”  I had to stop myself from laughing hysterically because Brother Omar was still talking.  Out of the corner of her mouth she whispered “He didn’t mention Jesus when he was stalking me!” and I almost lost it!  I told her I’d have to ask my friend if he knew Brother Omar…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I went down to Miami for the &lt;a href="http://www.latinfunkfestival.com"&gt; Annual Latin Funk Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;.  I know what you are thinking, WHAT?  I was thinking that too at first.  Then I heard some of the music and it was pretty cool.  Plus, I never really do anything, so I’ve been making up for it by going out a lot lately.  Anyway, we drove down to Miami and headed to Mansion, a nightclub on South Beach.  It was nice because we parked several blocks away and walked down to the club.  We passed the Tattoo parlor where they film that Miami Inked show and my friend had me take a picture of him for his brother.  His brother in England has seen the show.  His entire knowledge of Miami is Miami Inked and Miami Vice.  How sad is that?  Back to the show… There were a couple of artist that played.  My favorite was Locos Por Juana.  They had a Latin-Reggae sound.  And there was Javier Garcia, who I really liked as well.  We had a few drinks and danced a lot.  It was fun.  Afterwards, we met up with another co-worker and his sweetie for drinks on Lincoln Rd.  Well, after drinking earlier, it was more like pizza, ice cream, and more drinks.  By the time I got home it was 2am and I was completely exhausted.  It was soooo difficult to get up this morning.  Shelly called me a little after 8 and I hadn’t even made it into the shower yet.  Good thing they don’t mind me showing up at a quarter to 10.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114469243970426405?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114469243970426405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114469243970426405' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114469243970426405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114469243970426405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/latin-funk-and-church.html' title='Latin Funk and the Church'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114426801692247559</id><published>2006-04-05T16:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T10:55:44.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ever have one of those days? - UPDATED</title><content type='html'>I am done.  I'm just done!  I am so tired today.  I was great this morning.  The coffee flavored Tequila last night and sleeping in a bit this morning helped make it a great day.  Then came all of the crap.  First, AB came off of 2 sick days.  In “this is all the crap I’ve done in the past two days” talk, he mentioned a custom app that needed to be done.  Not so much mentioned it as almost jumped down my throat about how he THOUGHT I was doing it and how he told the customer they could have it by Friday.  Tough shit!  You never told me to do it, there is no request assigned to me in the system., you never even sent me the spec for it!  Deep breath, deep breath.  It’s a two minute thing.  I can get it done.  If I didn’t, I’m sure I’d be the one blamed for not reading his damn mind.  Next issue, the definition of the word minimum…  What do you think that means?  I spend a half hour of my life explaining to someone that minimum pin length meant you can’t have pins smaller that that number.  A HALF HOUR!  Poor Shelly had to sit through my tirade about this since it happened right before we went to lunch.  After lunch, I spent another half hour explaining something to the acting IT person.  It wasn’t even something he had to know.  I just needed him to give access to a machine to a couple of the other engineers, but he wouldn’t let it go.  In the end he was like “oh, the only way to do that is to make sure everyone knows about it.”  No shit, that’s why THEY NEED ACCESS!  Then, did you look at the document that BM wrote?  NO!  What the hell?  How much time did you think I had?  Suddenly me doing 3 high priority changes and getting 2 builds out in the two days you were gone is not enough?  By the way, Ben, you‘ll love this.  The document re-designs the work you did right before you left.  Isn’t it nice to feel that all those long hard hours you put in are appreciated?  I glanced over BM’s doc and it’s just crap.  I don’t even know what he is saying half the time!  And finally, there is the conversation about testing.  How do we test this, how do we determine what to test, blah blah blah…  By the way, I’M NOT IN THE TEST GROUP!  I don’t really give a crap!  Can’t you all please just leave me alone?  It’s kind of sad that a lot of my answers to questions now end with “I really don’t care.  If you want to do it, do it, if not, don’t.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-2 days after original post and it never ends-&lt;br /&gt;Hey everyone, thanks for the encouraging works, but it's still not better!  Not better at all.  It's not my job to direct SS!  He is not my employee.  I didn't write the spec he is using.  Can we please just leave me to do MY job?  And the thing AB promised to the customer...  I did that.  Yes, I turned it around in one day and it went out yesterday.  Did I get a Thanks, Good Job, You saved my Ass since I promised it to them.  NO!  Of course not.  That's how things go around here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chele - I think you are the only one that picked up on the tequila.  Yup, got it in Anguilla at the rum factory.  I know, rum and tequila?  Well, their sister company is the tequila factory so they have tastings of both.  After a few different rums and tequilas, you'll buy anything!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114426801692247559?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114426801692247559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114426801692247559' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114426801692247559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114426801692247559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/ever-have-one-of-those-days-updated.html' title='Ever have one of those days? - UPDATED'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114408879888806849</id><published>2006-04-03T14:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T14:26:38.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh What a Weekend...</title><content type='html'>If you had asked me on Thursday what I was doing over the weekend, I would have said nothing.  I was thinking, laundry, vacuum the house, basically lay on my ass and stare into space.  Well, it turned out a little different from that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, one of my co-workers had the brilliant idea to have a happy hour.  Well, a couple of martini’s later, we found ourselves on the high way headed to Hollywood.  (Florida that is, not Callie.)  It was loads of fun.  One guy had never been down there before.  We ended up at this Argentinean restaurant that had the greatest steaks.  One guy actually ate an 18 ounce steak!  I hurt just watching him.  We also had this drink that is sort of like a white sangria.  I can’t remember what it was called, but Yum!  It was definitely too much food, but it was delicious.  I got in at about 1:30 exhausted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The next day I woke up early to go with the Steves(we have 2 at work) to Sanibel island.  They asked me if I wanted to come with them between bites of steak on Friday.  Now, I’ve never been to Sanibel or anywhere on the west coast except Ft. Myers.  It was so beautiful.  The drive was pretty short, maybe 2 hours, and we spotted dozens of Alligators along the way sunning themselves.  It was so quiet and laid back when we got there, very unlike South East Florida.  We took pictures of the light house and did a little tour of the island.  Then we just relaxed on the beach.  Sanibel is known for shellin’.  People with little nets are constantly hunched over scooping looking for the best sea shells.  It’s great for that. Unfortunately, that also means that the beach is made up of a little bit of sand and a whole lot of tiny sharp shell fragments.  It was not pleasant.  But now, I can say that I have swam in the gulf of Mexico.  And the sunset was gorgeous.  I never realized how much I missed them until we were sitting in the sand (shells!) watching the sun sink down slowly.  We do get beautiful sunrises over here, but who wants to get up that early to watch it?  I know I am not the one.  On the walk back to the car, we could see these big birds flying over head.  They were flamingos!  They were so pink!  It was amazing to see them settle on a couple of broken tree branches and logs and take turns fishing.  We got home around 10:30 or so.  Needless to say, I went right to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I, luckily, remembered to set my clocks ahead.  I always need to be reminded because I am still not used to doing it.  See, when I was in college, we never changed our clocks.  I don’t know what it was about that part of Indiana, but they just don’t do it.  Someone once said it had to do with the farming and disrupting the animals’ schedules, but I really have no clue.  Well, it was a good thing I remembered because we went to see the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater.  It was soooooo good.  I had never seen them before.  They did a whole selection with Earth Wind and Fire songs and the last selection was all gospel.  I can’t remember the last time I heard Wade in the Water.   I am really glad I went, even though Shelly had to convince me to spend the money.  I wanted to go, but not $75 worth.  That got veto’d right away.  The $40 tickets were pretty far back, but it was still beautiful and well worth the money.  Afterwards, the group of us went and grabbed a drink and some appetizers instead of sitting in the traffic line to get out of the parking garage for a half hour.  Back at home, my intention was to do some laundry (everything is dirty!) and vacuum, but that didn’t happen.  I only managed to make myself some dinner, do one load of laundry, and watch FoL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114408879888806849?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114408879888806849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114408879888806849' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114408879888806849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114408879888806849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/04/oh-what-weekend.html' title='Oh What a Weekend...'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114365988133104059</id><published>2006-03-29T13:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T14:18:01.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue Tarps</title><content type='html'>This morning I was driving to work along the route I used to always take.  Lately I’ve been going another route and this morning, it felt like it had been a long time since I was on the highway.  As I was driving along the road that I’ve taken for the last 5 years, things looked very different from me.  By the side of the highway, there is a canal (go figure in Florida, right?) and on the other side of the canal there are houses.  In the past I’ve never been able to see the houses because of the line of trees and high fences blocking the view.  Well, today I got an eye full.  Oh, what a cute tricycle on their back porch.  Wow, those people have a huge grill.  Oh my, that man in his living room should really put on a robe or something.  It’s amazing how the landscape has changed so much since Hurricane Wilma.  So much attention was on Katrina that people didn’t seem to take notice of Wilma.  Well, we certainly did. (* Note, I am not trying to downplay Katrina.  I know we made if off much better than the people of the gulf coast and my heart goes out to them. *)  No one I know that had a fence had one after Wilma passed.  Maybe they had parts of it still up, but not all of it.   There are maybe a quarter of the trees there were before.  And traffic signs and lights?  Some streets still have one little light on a 3 lane road.  A turn light?  What’s that?  The signs, well, let’s just say I always tell people to go past the KFC and turn right at the Texaco to find my house.  Street names are not going to help at all.  As I drove along the highway seeing all of this, I also noticed the large number of blue tarps.  They were everywhere.  When my co-worker showed us the wedding pictures he had taken out back of his house by the lake, you could see blue tarps on the houses across the lake.  It’s been 6 months and people still haven’t gotten their roofs repaired.  I still haven’t gotten my windows fixed.  And hurricane season will be here soon.  Are we doomed to another bad hurricane season?  Will my windows come in before the roof gets blown off?  Will that man put on a robe or close his curtains?  No one knows the answers to these questions, but I do know one thing.  You better hold on to your blue tarps!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114365988133104059?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114365988133104059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114365988133104059' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114365988133104059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114365988133104059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/blue-tarps.html' title='Blue Tarps'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114356241037003642</id><published>2006-03-28T11:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T11:13:30.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gangsta Girls</title><content type='html'>While I was home sick last week, I watched a lot of TV.  I saw this very interesting show on Discovery or A&amp;E or something like that.  It was basically about female gang members in LA.  It talked about how violent they were and girls reminisced about trading boyfriends, jumping people, and seeing friends and family killed in senseless violence.  One woman was even in jail for murder since she was 15.  Why did this show remind me of my childhood in Callie?  No, I’m not saying I was in a gang.  But that’s the environment that was around me.  On the show, they showed young Hispanic women with the hair feathered up about 5 inches above their head and the black lip liner with red lipstick.  I remember at my junior high that they actually made rules about how high your hair could be.  They would whip out a ruler when they though it was too high.  The show also showed the young black women in baggy pants and cornrows looking like they could seriously hurt you.  I knew, and did not mess with, quite a few of those.  How sad is it that this show made me miss my childhood?  Some people don’t believe me when I talk about the teen pregnancies, gangs, drugs, and violence that I was raised around.  They say I seem so “normal” or am such a “nice girl”.  What does that mean?  I never said I did those things, but I sure did see them.  Well, I’m getting off subject.  The show reminded me of a lot of that stuff growing up.  I remember my friend Teresa.  Teresa had the feathered hair and wore very heavy eyeliner all the time.  She also did the thing where you wear 3 different pairs of socks and layered them so you got 3 colors showing.  Remember that?  One time, another friend had a sleepover and Teresa was there.  For the first time I saw her with no make up and her hair without the hairspray.  She looked about 10 years younger.  Now, I don’t know if this contributed to me not ever wearing makeup or not, but this girl took FOREVER to get ready.  I remember sitting and watching this feathered bang thing get created with combs and about a can and a half of hairspray.  And the eyeliner?  The girl would burn the tip with a match so that it melted.  That way she could smear a ton of it on much easier.  Yeah, I think I’m good with my "no make up, hair in a pony tail" self.  Don’t get me wrong, I can get gussied up when the occasion calls for it but on a daily basis… no thank you.  It’s funny how a couple of images can spark up so many memories.  I was devastated when we moved away because that was all I had ever known.  I know now that it was the best thing for me.  A lot of those same people I hung out with are still living in that area with 5 kids, no job, and just a high school education.  Would I have ended up like that if I stayed?  Hmmm, me a gansta girl... naw, never would have happened.  I could never pull off the hair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114356241037003642?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114356241037003642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114356241037003642' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114356241037003642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114356241037003642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/gangsta-girls.html' title='Gangsta Girls'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114348373775423890</id><published>2006-03-27T13:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T13:22:17.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I’m back!  Ok, I haven’t really been anywhere, I’ve just been sick.  I hate being sick.  I was in bed all weekend with a splitting headache.  Every time I moved it felt like someone was stabbing me.  I’d like to blame Shelly and her darling boy for my current predicament.  I think you got SH sick too!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shelly just burst my bubble.  Last week, coincidentally right before I took two days off sick, we got our annual raises and bonus.  Woo hoo, raises.  I get a whole wopping 2% more.  Do you know what 2% is?  I just checked my bank account and after taxes and 401Ks and medical and dental, it comes to a whole $37 per pay check.  Well, so I though anyway.  Shelly so graciously reminded me that it’s retroactive to the beginning of march.  Great, so it’ll probably be just short of $20 a pay check.  woo hoo.  I can get a tank of gas now.  Well, part of a tank of gas…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my house painted!  Ok, not the whole house, just part of it.  See, I have this vaulted ceiling over my staircase.  The wall was a lovely shade of blue-green.  I know!  I’ve lived there for 2, almost 3 years, and I never painted it.  Plus, I didn’t paint the bathrooms(2) upstairs or the second bedroom at all.  My friend’s uncle came over and did it for me.  He’s been painting for 30 years.  Besides all that, he painted the ceiling in the second bedroom and the ceiling in the living room/dinning room.  All that for $500.  Did I mention that he got the supplies too?  I was shocked.  I just looked at him like I didn’t hear him right.  $500?  Are you serious?  Yup, because you are E’s friend.  I had to call her and tell her I loved her!  I’m also going to get her uncle and aunt, who did the trim, a thank you card and slip a gift certificate into it for them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114348373775423890?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114348373775423890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114348373775423890' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114348373775423890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114348373775423890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/im-back-ok-i-havent-really-been.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114255445530306038</id><published>2006-03-16T19:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-16T19:14:15.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>Oh boy.  It’s been an interesting week or two since I got back.  Sorry on the lack of posting, but I’ve been really busy.  This is really going to be a random post, so sorry if I’m a bit jumpy in conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They stopped work on my project and I’m not on sustaining maintenance of the product.  Thanks, Ben.  ;o)  Last week I found out that they aren’t recruiting to fill a position previously left by BdaB which explains my current work situation.  That sucks, but I’ll get over it. Besides, no one could fill Ben’s shoes.  Then yesterday, they fired the IT woman.  She and I weren’t really close but I feel very bad for her.  Her husband doesn’t work and they have a 6 year old son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my doggie.  For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been trying to sell my house.  Well, when I first decided to do this, my parents pointed out that it will be easier to show if the dog weren’t there.  So they kidnapped my baby.  Ok, they didn’t kidnap him, I let him go but who knew it would take so long?  For the last 6 years, he’s been the only steady thing in my life.  I’m going to have to fly to VA to see him.  To get my doggie fix now, I am dog sitting my friends Cocker Spaniel.  He is a cutie and is so happy to have attention.  Ever since they had their baby, who’s 2 now, he hasn’t gotten as much attention as he used to.  Funny thing is though, I live in a townhouse.  Redd has never been up stairs before.  Last night I had to call him a million times to get him to come up. This morning I tried the same thing to get him down, but that wasn’t happening.  I even tried sitting on the steps trying to tempt him with a treat.  Didn’t work.  So, I had to carry this dog down the stairs to take him on a walk.  I’m going to have to work on getting him down the stairs on his own tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just saw the final episode of Flava!  I know, I’m a little slow but what can I say, I’ve been busy.  Plus, I had to catch up on the final 3 episodes.  Luckily there was a marathon on the other day.  I just have one question, why did Flav give that girl a grill?  And she put it in!  Shawn, I saw what you meant about NY’s mom and the “never never never” thing in the previous episode.  That was funny.  I thought it was hilarious when he went out to get knighted and that older woman was like “Who is that?” and her daughter said “Flava Flaaaavvvv!”  One of my friends was saying that Flav picked the wrong girl.  Not because NY was better or anything like that.  If he had picked her, they would be been guaranteed another reality show on VH1 cuz that girl is CRAZY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I caught up on PR too.  I actually really liked Santino’s cloths.  I though they were the best,  But they didn’t seem to fit his personality and they didn’t go together in a collection.  It was just a bunch of dresses and nothing brought them all together.  I’m glad that Chloe won.  I was rooting for her.  I didn’t like Daniel’s cloths at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I saw that Tyler Perry movie over the weekend, The family reunion one.  It was better than I though it would be.  Actually I had a very eventful weekend.  On Sunday we went down to Calle Ocho for the Miami Carnival.  It’s basically a huge 27 block party out in the streets of Little Havana.  I had a blast.  I love to people watch, so it was very interesting.  I went with one of my co-workers from England.  He was amazed at the clothing, or lack there of, of the young Latin women.  We danced to Salsa and Reggaton and various other types of music.  Every side street had a stage with different music or activities plus you’d just see guys with drums set up on the side of the road.  There was paella, areapas, tamales, and more meat on a stick than you can imagine.  I think I overdid myself on the food, but we had a blast.  After that, we went to South Beach and walked around a bit.  We saw the holocaust memorial and had a drink on Lincoln Rd.  Then we went to see a movie at the Miami International film festival.  It was a Brazillion film called Lower City.  It was very racy and a bit violent, but good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday we had Curry night.  A couple of us were comparing curry’s from various places and we decided to have a curry night.  I made Japanese curry while SW(co-worker from England) made Thai curry.  We’ll have to do it again and try to get Jamaican curry from ShellyP and Indian curry from JC(co-worker).  It turned out really well.  We did it at another co-worker’s house so I didn’t have to clean up, which is always nice.  I made wontons as appetizers and we had a couple of deserts.  Everyone seemed to like it and I even got an offer to move in from the intern as long as I cooked everyday.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that there are now 17 units for sale in my neighborhood?  Last year this time there were only 2.  This sucks.  Plus, I still have the broken windows.  It wasn't so bad in the winter, but now it's getting hot.  I'm going to have to call the window company and harass them a bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114255445530306038?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114255445530306038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114255445530306038' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114255445530306038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114255445530306038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114227414513034318</id><published>2006-03-13T13:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T13:22:25.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't you love buisness trips?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/907/1178/1600/Meads%20Bay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/907/1178/400/Meads%20Bay.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me hard at work in Anguilla.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114227414513034318?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114227414513034318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114227414513034318' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114227414513034318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114227414513034318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/dont-you-love-buisness-trips.html' title='Don&apos;t you love buisness trips?'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114194201073652811</id><published>2006-03-09T17:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T17:06:50.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, I bet you all are dying to know what happened with the cake thing.  &lt;a href="http://onceinalife.blogspot.com/"&gt;ShellyP&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt; confronted him about it.  You can read about it on her page.  Basically he claimed he didn’t know anything about it.  Shawn, you’ll love this next part!  Well, you know we are all engineers, right?  So how many digital cameras do you think were present at this wedding?  You can imagine, right?  On Monday we got an email from someone with pictures, and then again on Tuesday.  While this guy is denying knowing anything about the cake, what do we see in one of the pictures?  The infamous piece of cake sitting on their table!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a happier note, I read a good book while on my trip.  Yeah, I know.  You had time to read?  Yes, I did.  I read &lt;a href="http://fullhousefornow.blogspot.com/"&gt;Chele’s&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt; book, Raymond’s Daughters.  I though it was really good.  The premise of the story is that a man named Raymond has 3 daughters.  Each of them has a different mother and their own special relationship, or lack there of, with their father.  When he dies, they are forced to analyze that relationship and their relationships with each other.  I though the story line was great and the book was well written.  I recommend it to anyone looking for a good read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114194201073652811?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114194201073652811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114194201073652811' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114194201073652811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114194201073652811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/so-i-bet-you-all-are-dying-to-know.html' title=''/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114166975729963232</id><published>2006-03-06T13:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T13:29:17.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the USA</title><content type='html'>I’m back people.  I still have to post about how the rest of my week went and the weekend as well, but I’m sooooo tired.  I’ll catch up soon.  I also have to catch up on everyone else’s blogs.  I do have one quick story to tell about this weekend, though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night was a co-worker’s wedding.  It was so nice.  The bride was beautiful.  One of my other co-workers daughters was the flower girl.  Everyone was there including ShellyP and BendaBald.  Well, during the reception, most people were dancing.  My date and I sat down to rest for a minute.  At one point, he told me to look over at the cake table.  We were sitting right next to it.  They had 2 cakes, a tiered one and a rectangle one.  Someone had cut the corner off of the rectangle one!  We couldn’t believe it.  We were in shock.  They hadn’t taken pictures of the cakes or cut them yet.  How could someone do that?  At the table next to ours, our boss and another co-worker were sitting there with their wife and girlfriend.  They had just gotten up and left before we noticed the cake.  Right where my co-worker’s girlfriend was sitting was the cut piece of cake!  Not only did they have the audacity to cut someone’s wedding cake, they didn’t even eat it!  If my co-worker wasn’t the one who cut it, why didn’t he stop his girlfriend?  And why wouldn’t my boss say anything before he left too?  We were so upset.  She better be glad I didn’t see her before she left.  I would have cursed her out and made her go apologize to the bride right then and there!  We immediately told ShellyP about it and she was thinking we should try to turn the cake.  I didn’t know what to do.  Well, the bridesmaids saw the cake and covered it with one of the bouquets.  Then they told the bride.  She was visibly upset.  I felt so bad about the whole thing.  She got over it and they cut the cakes, danced more, and had a great time anyway.  This morning, my co-worker tried to talk to me, but I’ve just ignored him.  I don’t feel the need to speak to him and if I do, I’ll probably curse him out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114166975729963232?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114166975729963232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114166975729963232' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114166975729963232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114166975729963232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/back-in-usa_06.html' title='Back in the USA'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114131399585165856</id><published>2006-03-02T10:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T10:39:55.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday</title><content type='html'>I woke up a bit late and missed the van this morning.  I wasn’t that late, maybe 10 minutes or so.  And for me to be ready at 7:25 is still an amazing feat.  The conference was ok today.  I will say that I honestly didn’t pay that much attention.  Today was the first day that I brought my laptop with me and I spent time going over my mail and attempting to blog a bit.  I didn’t get a chance to read anything, so I’ll have a lot of people’s blogs to catch up on when I get back.  One presentation was a bit interesting.  It was by the guy from the competing company.  He and I met the first day and he seemed very nice.  Did I mention that his company is one of the sponsors and that we make the same products?  Well, he didn’t really go over anything much that you can’t find out on their web site.  He just went over their product line and what they did.  The interesting part was that I didn’t realize, he’s not just an employee of the company.  He founded the company along with his brother and is now the acting CTO. Hmmm… I think I need to get him drunk later and steal all of his trade secrets!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the conference was over, I decided that I need to do a bit of networking.  Well, I really haven’t done any yet.  So I went to the evening event.  It was awfully convenient since it was a BBQ on the beach just outside of my room.  So, after checking in with my boss on the phone, I headed to the bar for a pre-bbq drink.  Now, there are really 3 stages to hanging out with computer nerds.  First, they are all polite and talk about business.  They get tipsy and start to tell really bad jokes that involve their grad student or something another professor did.  And finally, they are drunk and dancing wildly, somehow believing they have some kind of rhythm.  Trust me, THEY DON’T!  Now, I had to have a couple of Rum Punches just to stand phase 2.  Everyone was nice, but not really my cup of tea.  I was good, though.  I made some contacts and got some business cards.  There ended up being 4 of us hanging out.  A woman from California who is currently working on a project in Fort Lauderdale, a Canadian man who’s currently in Connecticut, and a German man who, I believe is staying in the Netherlands or something.  We left the beach and headed back to the bar.  There was a huge party going on up there for some of the Boston people I met the first night.  One of the women was turning 50 so they brought Italian food down from NY with them and they had cases of wine.  The manager was there as well.  We all had a good time drinking and hanging out.  The manager was trying to convince me to stay the weekend.  The woman from California told me I should.  She was like “if it’s not your wedding, you don’t need to be there!”  Well, after hanging out there, everyone went down to Bankie Banks’ place.  There was live music, and this is where the drunken dancing comes in.  Not me mind you, them.  And at one point, some woman watching what looked like an epileptic seizure asked, “is that the guy that’s a genus?”  Very funny night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114131399585165856?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114131399585165856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114131399585165856' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114131399585165856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114131399585165856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/wednesday.html' title='Wednesday'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114131020904260339</id><published>2006-03-02T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T09:36:49.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday</title><content type='html'>Today was a short day.  We were done with the conference at noon.  So I called Essie and we went to lunch.  Actually, she wanted me to show her how to make the wontons I make, so we went back to Cap Julupa.  She didn’t know where to get the wonton skins, but her cousin, the chef had some.  He gave us a package of them, then insisted that we have lunch at his beach side restaurant.  The food was so good.  We ordered the fish burger and the creole burger and split the two.  They were both so good.  Then we went over to Shoal Bay East, which is supposed to be the best beach.  It was nice, but it was so crowded.  I’m used to the beach at my hotel.  There are at most, a dozen people on the whole beach.  There were restaurants all along the beach and beach chairs everywhere.  We only stayed for a bit then we had to get the ingredients to cook.  I was going to do some homemade teriyaki sauce, so we decided to try to get some fish.  We went back to the same dock near Scilly Cay (Sunday).  The men were just coming back from fishing.  We got some local fish and Essie decided to ask if anyone had lobster.  Some men had just pulled up in a boat and were unloading sacks of fresh lobster as we were talking.  After getting 4 or so fish, maybe about 3lbs or more worth for $7, we went over to the lobster boat and spoke with them.  For about $60, we got 3 huge lobsters and a very active stone crab.  These things were so fresh, that when Essie carried them to the car in the bag, they were trying to climb out by climbing up her let.  Luckily, Lobsters here do not have claws.  When we got back to the house, one of them crawled onto the kitchen floor and was trying to have a stand off with us.  She didn’t want to be cooked last night!  It was some of the best lobster I’ve ever had, and I’m not really a lobster person.  I much prefer a good fish or even crab.  But we split the lobsters down the middle and stuffed them with a combination of the crab meat, the meat from the lobster’s legs, breadcrumbs, garlic, olive oil and some other spices.  Then we threw them n the grill.  They were so good.  At the store, we didn’t find sesame oil, so we scraped the teriyaki idea.  Angie, who lives with Essie and takes care of the house when Essie is in the US, fried the fish, and I made fried rice with some leftover shrimp they had and whatever else I could find.  As we ate, we watched American Idol.  It was the first TV I’ve seen since Thursday.  I actually haven’t missed it that much, except of course for FoL and PR.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After AI, Essie drove me back to the hotel.  On my way to my room, I was passing the bar and the bartender called me over.  We chatted for a while and he asked me where I’ve been.  He was telling me how every table was full and it was a crazy night.  I was shocked because they had a pretty small menu and every other night, they have only had 7 or 8 tables the whole night.  No one was at the bar, so we just sat and talked for a little bit.  Then the manager showed up dressed in a suit.  The bartender was joking about how first the manager ruined his alone time with me, then he had to roll up in a suit, trying to impress me.  Those two are a trip.  They both openly hit on me and talk about the other constantly.  Someone was asking me how it felt to be loved.  I said ‘Well, since all of the men on this island are related to all of the women on the island already and there aren’t many black tourists, I’m not special.  I’m just new!  After chatting with them for a while, I went off to bed.  I think I’m starting to get a bit run down.  Very tired…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114131020904260339?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114131020904260339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114131020904260339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114131020904260339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114131020904260339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/tuesday.html' title='Tuesday'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114122669321949699</id><published>2006-03-01T10:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T10:24:53.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday</title><content type='html'>Today was rough.  I woke up at 6 since the shuttle to the conference was coming at 7:15am.  Now anyone what knows me knows that I don’t get up at 6 unless my bed is on fire.  I am not a morning person at all.  If I make it to work by 9am, that’s a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conference went ok.  There were a lot of nice people.  Apparently, there was a reception last night, but I didn’t know about it.  They sent out an email Friday night, but I was already here.  Looking around the first day, I see that I am the only black person at the conference.  It’s like being back at school in Indiana again.  The first person to speak to the group was the island’s Minister of Finance.  He’s a tall black man that has a kind smile, a commanding voice, and an air of dignity about him.  Maybe it’s just the accent.  :o)  After his speech, he walked out past me.  He made eye contact, gave me that “go ‘head, girl” smile and a squeeze on the shoulder as he past.  People on the island have told me so much that they are happy to see a sister doing what I do.  AF has the same wherever she goes.  The manager/owner, a black woman, of the hotel where the conference is held made sure to speak to me and find out how it went afterwards.  She and I met this morning and she seems to be looking out for me.  The talks were good at the conference.  It’s basically a bunch of computer geeks who wrote papers and are presenting them.  The audience is pretty much the same.  You wouldn’t believe how many pants pulled up 3 to 4 inches above the waist line and shorts and black socks pulled up I’ve already seen.  These are not people I would willingly hang out with.  And that’s why I’m skipping out on the reception tonight.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the conference, I had a drink at the hotel bar waiting for Essie to call me.  The crew and I were supposed to go over to her house just to hand out.  It was their lat night.  Unfortunately they spend the afternoon at the island’s rum factory and weren’t really up for hanging out.  Plus, no one had packed yet.  So Essie, AF and her hubby, and I went out to dinner.  AF and Essie got invited to Cap Juluca for dinner by the head chef.  He is Essie’s cousin and he knows AF from filming earlier in the week.  He is a world renoun chef that runs 5 restaurants on the island and he is a local, born and breeds.  The place was absolutely fabulous.  It was so beautiful inside.  It was right on the water and the whole place was white.  There were these fabulous Moroccan looking cousins on the chairs and the most beautiful fabric on the ceilings.  Plus the food was so good.  It was fabulous.  The chef sent out some appetizers for us that he just thought we’d like.  He also sent out caviar since he knew it was Essie’s favorite.  The crème Brule was so good!  Essie loves to cook, so we were analyzing it a bit.  It had a hit of nutmeg in it that made it taste fabulous.  This was probably the best meal I’ve EVER had.  All of the seafood was so fresh and even Essie’s duck was great.   The chef spent time talking to us and even picked up the tab.  He was very nice.  He gave me his card and told me that he comes to Miami a lot.  He’s also cute and single, but anyone that knows me knows my tri-county area rule.  For those of you that don’t, I refuse to get involved with anyone that doesn’t live in within the tri county area of Miami/Dade county, Broward(ft. Lauderdale) county, and Palm beach county.  If I’m dating someone, I want easy access to them.  I don’t want to have to make a plan just to see them.  Anyway, there was another guest at our dinner.  It was a woman who works for the tourism board.  She is the one that introduced AF to the Chef.  She mentioned how her husband is an engineer as well.  We talked for a while and I told her to have him get me a job!  Wouldn’t that be great?  I also spent some time with Essie and her cousin, the chef, talking about food and she was telling him how I love to cook.  He was cute.  He asked me if I wanted a job.  After all of this, we went back to Essie’s house and hung out for a minute before coming back to the hotel to go to bed.  I have to work in the morning, remember?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114122669321949699?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114122669321949699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114122669321949699' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114122669321949699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114122669321949699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/monday.html' title='Monday'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114121988663472456</id><published>2006-03-01T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T08:31:26.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>Today I woke up very early.  When the sunlight comes streaming into my room, I instantly wake up.  Back home my bedroom has very deep dark red walls.  It’s very conducive to being in bed.  Here on the other hand, everything is white and cream and mint green.  My curtains are made of lace, so the light just streams in.  And of course, when you step outside the door the sand is a brilliant white.  I had a nice quite breakfast reading the second book I brought.  The first was Chele’s book Raymond’s Daughters.  It was so good, I couldn’t put it down.  I read it in about 3 days.  I’ll have to write more on that later.  Now it’s To be Black, White and Jewish by Rebecca Walker.  It’s an autobiography about her life.  She is the daughter of Alice “Color Purple” Walker and a white civil rights lawyer whose name I can’t think of right now.  Well, as I broke out my laptop to do a bit of work before getting the call to go to Scilly Cay (pronounced Silly key), I got another phone call.  It was the front desk saying I had visitors.  Remember the woman and her mother that took me around St. Martin yesterday?  Well, they stopped by.  I had mentioned to the woman how I had recently lost my sunglasses while we were taking the tour.  She and her mother came and brought me a pair of sunglasses.  Isn’t that sweet?  These are the nicest people in the world!  They have driven me around all day.  Yesterday they tried to give me one of those huge papayas, but I convinced them I couldn’t take it.  They gave me a bottle of wine (did I mention that the other day?) and kept trying to feed me.  People on this island are just the friendliest people ever.  And it seems to rub off on the visitors as well.  You couldn’t imagine how many people say hi when you pass them and are always smiling.  Some woman stopped to talk to me today while I was lying by the pool.  The wind was blowing up the sand on the beach so I sat by the pool.  She just smiled, then asked me if I was here by myself and started telling me all about how she and her hubby always come here.  I’m telling you, if you want a relaxing vacation, this is the place to be.  There are not really any nightclubs or activities.  There is no gambling, and no really big tourist attraction.  All there is are absolutely beautiful white sand beaches, five star restaurants, and the nicest people you will ever meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my day.  Essie, the New Jersey woman that has a house here, came to pick me up around noon.  Along with some of her friends, we drove to the north side of the island to get to Scilly Cay.  We walked out on to this long dock and waited for this boat to come get us.  It was just a fishing boat.  We could see the island and could have walked there easily if it weren’t for the ocean.  Once on the island, we see one building and a bunch of little thatched roof shelters set up as dining areas.  There was a band playing, Happy Hits and you could smell the food on the grill from the water.  The island has no electricity, so the food was Chicken, Lobster, and Crayfish on the grill, cold pasta salad, and fresh fruit.  It was so nice.  I met the owners.  The man is from here, but his wife is from Atlanta.  They were both very nice.  The crew from FN was there filming so we hung out with them on breaks and it was interesting to see them working.  AF, one of the producers, was explaining what was going on while they were shooting.  They did get a shot of our table eating, but I doubt they will use.  Of courses AF made me sign a release anyway.  She’s so funny.  She was telling me how she constantly changes her hair because they always make her sit in different shots when they need background or something.  Her husband told me that he saw her once blowing a bubble when they did some show that had something about gum in it.  You couldn’t see her face, but she was the only sister working there so you knew it was here.  She said she also has to be the hand putting a plate or glass down a lot.  I was telling her that I’m going to look for her now.  Anyway, we spent the day out there and then came back to the hotel exhausted.  Everyone showed and we met up at the hotel bar later.  We had some drinks and hung out a bit before deciding just to have dinner there.  It was nice.  It was only AF, her hubby, Essie, her friend and me.  Essie’s friend is a trip.  When you think of gold digger, that’s her!  When someone else is paying, she can only have the champagne and lobster, but when she knows she has to pay, its water and the local fish.  When she found out that the Manager, who was chatting with us at the bar, was actually the owner’s son, she kept telling me how I needed to go over and talk to him, that I should be nicer, and all kinds of other stuff.  She was also dropping names constantly like “my brother-in-law’s sister works with Maria Carey.”  Well, good for her.  No one at the table cared very much who she new or how many names she could spout off.  Even Essie was sick of her and can’t wait for her to go.  She’s been in her house eating all of her food, hitting on her male family members and hasn’t bothered to pull out her wallet, or even say thanks.  Essie won’t be bringing her to Anguilla again.  We had a nice dinner and afterwards, the host from the show came over to join us.  He is such a nice guy.  He was leaving in the morning, so it was nice to hang out with him before he left.  The manager also came over to join us.  He’s a sweetheart as well.  They kept trying to get me to drink more wine, but I couldn’t.  After sitting in the sun all day and drinking Rum Punch, then having wine at dinner, I knew I would be no good at the conference the next day.  So, off to bed I went.  Not a bad day, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114121988663472456?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114121988663472456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114121988663472456' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114121988663472456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114121988663472456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/03/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114107428558097877</id><published>2006-02-27T16:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T16:22:58.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>Hey, ya'll.  I posted in the wrong order so please read the third one first.  i know it's 2 long posts, but it's all about my trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t know what I wanted to do today  Some of the members of the production crew I met the night before brought spouses with them who hung out at the hotel all day long.  Some of them mentioned hanging out a bit, but when I got up, I had the urge to be adventurous.  I decided to go to St. Martin.  When I went to the office to have them call a cab for me, a very nice older man offered to give me a ride.  He knew the front office staff, so I figured why not.  In our car ride over, I come to find out he OWNS the hotel.  This is the guy from last night’s father.  He was very sweet and told me about his other children and where to go in St. Martin.  So, I go to the ferry and I am thinking ferry, big boat traveling slowly, right?  Oh no!  it’s this little boat packed with people.  This man was moving like he was on fire!  He was driving so fast, I though he stole something.  I think we made it there in maybe 15 minute.  And that seemed a bit long.  The way we were rocking and hitting those waves, I though I was going to be sick.  I was thinking in my head how there was no way I could go back on this ferry!  I’m going to have to stay in St. Martin.  A very nice older woman distraced me a bit.  She was really sweet and reminded me of my Maw Maw (Surrogate grandma in Kentucky.)  She started yelling at me for being a single woman going to St. Martin.  “It’s so dangerous.  You gotta be careful.  You don’t know how these men are, they’re slick.”  Her daughter was nice too.  She invited me to join them for the day.  They had some errands to run, but afterwards, they would show me all around.  They live here in Anguilla, but go over to visit family and shop in St. Martin.  Plus, the mother was born and raised over there.  So, I decided to go with them.  The errands consisted of visiting family members and dropping off ripe papayas as long as my forearm and as thick as my thigh and fresh pigeon peas.  Everyone was so sweet.  The ferry lands on the French side of the island.  They took me to the Dutch side of the island as well and drove me up into the mountains.  The view from the top was breathtaking.  I’ve never seen water soooo blue!  They told me a lot of history and stories about the island.  Once back in Anguilla, they even offered to drive me back to my hotel.  I had a great day.  We are supposed to be going out to dinner later in the week as a way of me thanking them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once back at the hotel, I saw some of my new found friends from last night.  We started chatting by the pool when the sun was still up and ended with drinks at midnight.  They were so nice.  We had some drinks at the bar, and then decided to sit at a table and eat dinner.  They told me about the shoot today and a big one they are doing tomorrow.  There is this small island just about 3 miles offshore.  It has no electricity and is privately owned.  A guy set up a restaurant on it.  You go out there on a small boat. They catch lobster and other seafood right off shore then cook it on the beach.  It’s supposedly the thing the locals do on Sundays.  Half of the people are usually in their bathing suits and the other half just came from church, in their Sunday best with the big hats and all.  It’s an all day kind of lounge around and swim and eat and hang out thing.  The director and one of the producers spent quite some time telling me I had to go out with them.  Hmm, lets see, umm, heck yeah I’m coming!  I’m excited to be going to this beach party and I get to see one of my favorite food network shows being taped!  They mentioned something about me being an extra, but I don’t know about all that.  We’ll have to see how the day goes.  The crew is leaving at 7:30 in the morning, and I know I’m not up for that.  This woman from New Jersey who has been coming here for years has been assisting them by introducing them to a lot of locals and becoming their unofficial tour guide.  She has a house here and spends 1 month her and 2 back in the states.  I’m so jealous!  She was nice enough to offer to bring me and a couple of the spouses over at noon or so.  Can’t wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114107428558097877?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114107428558097877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114107428558097877' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114107428558097877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114107428558097877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114107423688254811</id><published>2006-02-27T16:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T16:06:26.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday night</title><content type='html'>Ok, I guess my last post was a bit much.  I’ve adjusted and have gotten the hang of island life.  A guy who worked here at the hotel helped arrange for me to rent a cell phone.  For about $20 you can get a phone with a local number.  It’s much cheaper than using regular phones and this way I can be reached if necessary.  It’s my connection to the outside world.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally got settled in, I decided to take a stroll down the beach.  My first thought, “The sand is so white.”  My second thought, “It’s so soft too!”  My stroll was nice.  I walked just down to the hotel that is $2500 to $5000 and decided to come back for a bite to eat.  (YES, $5000 a night!!)  When I got back, I went to the restaurant and decided to eat at the bar.  The whole bar and restaurant are outdoors.  I met the waitresses and the bartender.  They were all really nice.  The bartender flirted with me, but that may be because I was the only person under 30, the only minority, and the only sober person at the bar.  He kept asking me if I was from an island and where my man was.  Anyway, more people began to show up.  I was chatting with people and all of a sudden someone walked up that I recognized.  Not like someone I actually knew.  I recognized his face from somewhere, then his voice when he spoke.  We chatted for a minute then I got it!  I’ve seen him on TV, the food network to be more specific.  Now anyone that knows me knows just how much I love to cook and how I am constantly watching the food network.  Well, this guy is the host of one of the shows I like.  Now, being that we are on this fabulous island and that he is a regular guy like everyone else (Shawn, *wink*), I didn’t say anything about the show.  So, we are chatting with a bunch of other people and a sister comes up.  She tells me she loves my hair and I tell her I love her earrings.  Instantly I liked her.  She introduces me to her hubby and asks me what I do.  We talk for a bit and I ask her what she does.  She kind of smiled and told me she worked in television as a producer.  Then she goes on to say that she is here working on a show and gives me some background on the show.  At that point I level with her and the host and tell them that I watch the show all the time.   They started telling me about what they had been filming and the new episode they were doing.  I found it so interesting.  I met the sound guy and the camera man and the director along with a gang of other people.  They were so nice and after hanging out all night, we all planned on meeting up the next night.  They had an early shoot in the morning, so they all left.  Once they left, I was chatting with a really nice woman from Boston.  She was very drunk and was complaining about how the airport had lost her luggage.  She’s been here for 3 days already and pretty much stayed in her bathing suit the whole time.  Then the guy I met earlier who got me the phone came up and started chatting with me.  He was telling me about how he lived in Miami and DC for a while.  Then he went on about how he spent time in Japan and Germany.  Wow, you’d think he was stalking me or something.  (A little background, I am half Japanese, born in Germany, lived in the DC area, and now live in the MIA area.)  Well, come to find out, he runs the hotel and his father owns it along with half of the things on this island.  We talk for a bit, but I am exhausted so I head off to bed.  And that, ladies and gentlemen, was day 1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114107423688254811?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114107423688254811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114107423688254811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114107423688254811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114107423688254811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/friday-night.html' title='Friday night'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114107417326074756</id><published>2006-02-27T16:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T16:05:30.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Greetings from Anguilla</title><content type='html'>Ok, I've been very bad.  I haven't checked my email in a while and I know Shelly's waiting for a post.  I have been keeping a journal so i can just cut and paste when i do come in the office.  So, here's friday and Saturday.  I need to finish sunday and well, today isn's done yet.  Let me just say that this place is absolutely beautiful!  My room is steps from the beach.  Within 10 steps, I can be at the beach, at the pool, or at the bar!  From the beach you can look over and see St. Martin across the water.  At night it’s so beautiful because you can see all of the lights over there and every star in the sky.  Amazing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114107417326074756?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114107417326074756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114107417326074756' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114107417326074756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114107417326074756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/greetings-from-anguilla.html' title='Greetings from Anguilla'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114081683798643815</id><published>2006-02-24T16:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T16:33:58.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cut off</title><content type='html'>Ok, i feel competely cut off from the world right now.  I have a beautiful beachfront room right on a white sand beach.  The only thing is, I have no cell phone, no internet acces, no TV.  What do I do with myself???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, on the plane ride over, there was a bit of an adventure.  I had to catch one of those little propellar planes over from Puerto Rico.  I hate those!  But that's the price to pay for paradice.  Ok, i can do that.  Then we are all on the plane.  "Can some of you mover around so that we can balance the plane better?"  Umm, ok.  A little worried now.  Then "Umm, The mechanics are trying to fix a little problem, so it'll take a little bit of time before we take off."  Huh?  What?  A mechnical problem?  Oh no!  then "OK, since there is no air on(did i forget to mention how hot it was?) we are just going to go back to the terminal until they fix the plane since it seems be be taking a bit longer."  WHAT?  If I got off that plane, i surely wan't getting back on it!  Luckily they just put us on another plane and we were good.  I'm here all safe and sound.  So far only one OLD man who was my cab driver has hit on me.  Tomorrow, maybe I'll go to St Martin, or St. Maarten.(same island, french half and dutch half)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114081683798643815?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114081683798643815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114081683798643815' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114081683798643815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114081683798643815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/cut-off.html' title='Cut off'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114073387173888877</id><published>2006-02-23T17:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T17:31:11.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Rambling</title><content type='html'>Well, folks, tomorrow at this time I’ll be laying on a beach having cocktails.  It doesn’t look like I am going to have easy access to the internet since I can’t find a wireless network card anywhere in the office.  I’ll try to do a quick post or two but may not be able to.  I think I have everything I need.  Sunblock, Check.  Chele's book, Check.(Can't wait to read it, girl!) Cute man catching outfits, Check.  Oh yeah, and work stuff to, yeah, ummm, check?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m excited to be going, but also know I’ll be happy to be coming back in a week.  And that’s only because of the long awaited reunion of BenDaBald, ShellyP, and myself.  We’ll get a chance to party and drink the night away at a co-worker’s wedding. And of course, get to see the babies a bit.  That, naturally, will depend on the amount of partying and drinking we do the night before.  I wish they were staying longer, but if you’ve read Ben’s blog you can tell he’s busy working hard for the man.  Oh wait, not the man, the wo-man otherwise referred to as Wifey and himself.  I ain’t mad at you.  Ben, you’ve got to bring the kids back so I can take them to WannaDo City.  Someone was telling me about it and I want to go, but I have to borrow some kids to go.  Yes, Shel, Sid can come too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114073387173888877?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114073387173888877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114073387173888877' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114073387173888877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114073387173888877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/just-rambling.html' title='Just Rambling'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114053909837994133</id><published>2006-02-21T11:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T11:27:22.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'>3 days till my trip</title><content type='html'>Did I ever mention how I don’t do things by myself?  I know, I’m a wimp.  I should suck it up and learn to do things by myself, but I haven’t/can’t/don’t…  Next week will be a real test of that.  I’m going to a conference for work.  Every other work conference or trip I’ve been on, someone has been there with me.  Who do I have dinner with, co-workers.  Who do I go sight seeing with, to the movies when we are bored, just to the bar for a drink?  My co-workers.  Trips to San Francisco, England, wherever have always had built in company.  It’s not like we don’t meet other people while there.  My co-workers and I always manage to make friend, usually in strange bars.  We socialize and have a good time.  It’s just nice to know you have SOMEONE to talk to if you don’t meet others.  Well, not this trip.  On this trip, I’m going to Anguilla for a conference all by myself.  I’ve got to get over my phobia of going places alone.  So, I’m going to make a real effort to get out.  Maybe on Sunday, I’ll take a ferry over to St. Martin and play tourist.  I am going to avoid ordering room service and make sure I get out.  I’m not sure what kind of internet access I’ll have over there, but I’ll try to keep you posted on my progress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114053909837994133?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114053909837994133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114053909837994133' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114053909837994133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114053909837994133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/3-days-till-my-trip.html' title='3 days till my trip'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114053468295899112</id><published>2006-02-21T10:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T10:11:22.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>FoL update</title><content type='html'>What is wrong with NY?  She started the show by getting pissed that Flav didn’t pick her to go on the first date.  Then she was talking mess about how Goldie wasn’t any competition.  She was “cute for a big girl” but that was it.  Then ol’ girl had the nerve to tell Goldie that if Flav didn’t pick her she would never date again.  Why is she so dramatic?  The funniest part was at dinner when Goldie was getting all of the attention.  NY was holding that knife like she was gonna cut Goldie for stealing her man AND cut Flav for giving Goldie more attention.  That girl is a trip.  And did you see the previews?  She attacks Pumpkin next week!  Unfortunately, I’ll be out of town.  Do they get Flavor of Love in Anguilla?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was wrong with Pumpkin, Hoops, and Goldie?  Why are these girls fighting to make out with Flava?  Is it just me?  Every time one of them kisses him, I just say EWWWWW!!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Pumpkin is the worse one!  Do ya’ll think she slept with him that night?  I do.  That’s the only reason he’d keep her around.  I don’t think he’s actually had a conversation with him that doesn’t involve her tongue down his throat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114053468295899112?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114053468295899112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114053468295899112' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114053468295899112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114053468295899112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/fol-update.html' title='FoL update'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114019385913659902</id><published>2006-02-17T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T11:30:59.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Interracial Dating</title><content type='html'>The other day I went to the movies with a girlfriend of mine.  We saw that new movie, Something New.  The basic story line is a successful black female CPA (I think, it was something like that) meets/dates a white man landscape architect.  Besides the obvious racial undertones, there is also classism prevalent in the movie.  It was actually a very good movie, much better than I thought it would be.  Afterwards, my girlfriend and I got into a whole discussion of interracial dating.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don’t have a problem with it, obviously.  I think the Asian mother and Black father kind of have something to do with that.  We have always been a very open kind of family.  My sister is married to a white man and I think I’ve dated just about every race/ethnic group out there.  The color of skin doesn’t really matter to me one bit.  But then as we were talking, I realized something.  If I married outside my race, well the black half anyway, I would encounter some of the issues that they did in the movies.  In my case, it wouldn’t come from my immediate family, but my extended family and even some friends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back, I realize that my family in Alabama are not really that open.  My cousin has been known to make comments like “Well, you know how white people are…”  Umm, excuse me?  Did you just say that?  You know you’d be pissed off if you heard someone say “Well, that’s how black people are.”  And, one time we were talking on the phone. I had just sent her pictures of my niece.  She is the most beautiful thing, but the mix of half white, ¼ black, and ¼ asian and produced an asian looking child.  I commented that if I were to marry a white man, this is what my baby would look like.  She said “Oh Lord!  Please don’t marry a white man!”  When I said WHAT?  She tried to back track and say something about not being able to help who I fall in love with but that it would be nice if he were a black man.  I could just see the drama if I took a non-black man to visit Birmingham.  With some other extended family members, I will always be the girl that brought the white girl to the family reunion.  See, I was going to drive up to ATL for a reunion.  My friend Kathryn offered to drive with me.  She is a little blond Welsh woman.  We had a great time and two of my cousins absolutely fell in love with her, one being 3 the other 33.  The next reunion 2 years later, I was greeted by a distant cousin while checking into the hotel.  “Hey cousin, I ‘member you from da last reunion.  You da one dat brought da white gurl.”  Imagine if I married someone non-black and had kids with him.  I’m sure there would be all kinds of comments on good hair and skin color not to mention the comments I already get about speaking proper English.  Some of my friends are probably just as bad, but not so open about it.  I have girlfriends that always talk about finding  a good black man, a fine brother, a black man that can take care of his own…  There is always the adjective Black in there.  What about a good man period?  Is he good to you?  Does he make you happy?  Can he pay all of his own bills?  Then what does it matter what color his skin is?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114019385913659902?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114019385913659902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114019385913659902' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114019385913659902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114019385913659902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/interracial-dating.html' title='Interracial Dating'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114011710942736075</id><published>2006-02-16T14:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T14:14:35.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Flava of Love and Project Runway</title><content type='html'>I have to admit it.  These 2 shows are my indulgences.  I spend most of my time working, but I make sure I see these shows.  They are hilarious.  Have you been watching?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn-  I’m glad you are still reading blogs since you are on a posting hiatus.  I’ll have to do Flava and PR updates for you.  And, my girl has WE.  I told her to Tivo that show for me.  I'll have to go over this weekend and check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, Flava is a trip.  Did you see the preview for next week?  When NY was talking about “I have to watch my man is kissing another woman, and a big woman at that!”  I could have reached in the screen and smacked her, being a bit on the chubby side myself.  Next week is going to be hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hottie has issues.  It was so funny how every question she lied about then told Flava "I've been completely honest with you."  I would have stepped back before the lightening stuck!  And did you notice the cha-ching side effects that Blind date used?  Where are we going to get our little sound effects now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumpkin should have told him she was on Blind date too.  If not, she shouldn’t have said anything to the other girls about it.  They are going to use it against her later on.  Oh, and on one of my mental health days last week, I was flipping throught channels.  Why did I see Pumpkin on the MTV show Next?  I guess she and Hottie are making the reality TV rounds.  And what did she do to her head this week???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiley was stupid!  She should have know she couldn’t trust none of them, especially not NY.  And I KNEW she was the stripper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gita is a trip.  What is with her?  Isn’t she married now?  I loved the lunch where she was like “No, she’s not good enough for you…  No, not her…  No, she’s too young.”  She doesn’t want Flava with anyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to PR, so it’s Santino, Chloe, and Daniel.  I knew Kara would be out because all her outfits are so Blah.    And can you believe how they all turned on Chloe on the runway?  I bet she’ll be bitter in the reunion show they are having next week, although she was stupid for saying she didn’t know if she “wanted this”.  When he first started, I though Santino’s dress was going to be nice.  But then he put all those gold coin things on it and it was not cute.  Neither was Chloe’s.  Her model looked all washed out.  And Daniel's was something you could get anywhere.  I was not impressed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Did you see Cara was kicked off RW/RR?  I’m glad but I’m sure they’ll be a crying Susie in the next episode.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114011710942736075?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114011710942736075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114011710942736075' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114011710942736075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114011710942736075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/flava-of-love-and-project-runway.html' title='Flava of Love and Project Runway'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-114010493206231214</id><published>2006-02-16T10:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T14:13:00.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh no, not Crack!</title><content type='html'>I was home from work the other day when a friend of mine called me.  It wasn’t unusual, but she started the conversation with “you better sit down…”  That’s never a good sign!  The conversation was about someone we knew.  Now I haven’t talked to her since her birthday incident, which I mentioned &lt;a href=http://makochan13.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-just-have-to-let-her-go.html&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;.  And the whole conversation made another incident that I mentioned &lt;a href="http://makochan13.blogspot.com/2005/06/say-what.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt; a little bit easier to believe.  I really thought she hadn’t done it, but maybe she did. Anyway, this is how the story went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend K, who originally introduced me to Lisa called to tell me she stopped by a Jamaican restaurant owned by a mutual friend.  Lisa and K haven’t spoken since they had a falling out in 04, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.  S, the restaurant owner, told K that she and Lisa had a falling out too and they didn’t speak anymore.  It’s such a long story that I can’t really go into it here.  Basically S ended up telling Lisa she didn’t know how to treat people and she couldn’t have someone like Lisa in her life.  If you hear the story, you’d agree.  Oh, and the story also mentions Lisa pursuing W, who I mentioned before while she was encouraging me to go out with him.  Needless to say, I was not happy about the story.  That’s not the point of this though.  S heard some things about Lisa and thought we should know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy that knew Lisa stopped by the restaurant the not to long ago and asked S if she spoke to Lisa lately.  When she said no, he said she needed to call her because “Lisa needs a friend.”  He told her that Lisa was on crack.  CRACK????  WHAT? HUH?  She has lost a ton of weight and was doing drugs, according to this guy.  Now, I haven’t seen Lisa since last year, but she was rapidly loosing weight then.  When I first met her, the girl was a size 18.  Last time I saw her, she was probably a 10.  According to this guy, she’s 100lbs soaking wet.  I knew she was losing weight rapidly, but I had no idea that was why.  It also explains why the girl never had any money ever and why she would do that escort thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that’s not the end of it.  Lisa, one day, up and moved to Ft. Myers.  Ok, for those that don’t know, Ft. Lauderdale is on the east coast of Florida while Ft. Myers is on the west coast.  She didn’t really bother to tell anyone.  She just kind of packed up and moved.  By not bothering to tell anyone, I also mean she didn’t bother to tell the mortgage company.  She just stopped paying the mortgage.  I’m sure she didn’t mind so much since the condo was in her mother’s name anyway.  Oh yeah, did I mention that she neglected to tell her mother she was moving too?  Well, her mother recently moved about 2 hours north of here.  The mortgage company tracked her down just in time to tell her that the house was being foreclosed on.  She had to jump in her car and come down to try and stop it from happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is going on with this girl?  I’m so concerned, more so for her son than for her.  Is he in Ft. Myers with her?  How can she manage with him when she couldn’t manage while over here?  At least here she had her mother and the baby’s father to help out, not to mention me and S and various other people who brought over food and loaded money when there was nothing to eat in the house or she had no gas or money to get to work.  I know I haven’t talked to her since Nov, but should I call?  I worry, but am I willing to put up with her crap again?  To be used again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, the previous stuff was all written last week, but I hadn’t posted it yet.  I didn’t call Lisa.  I was still very unsure if I could be used like that again.  K was obsessed with finding out if the rumors were true.  She even resorted to calling someone she hadn’t spoken to in years.  Unfortunately, the girl hadn’t talked to Lisa in forever because they had their own issues.  So, K started pressuring me to call some people I knew to see if I could find out anything.  She even wanted me to call W.  I almost forgot that I never told K that W and I dated, so I just told her I didn’t have his number which is true.  I did have the number of another mutual friend of ours.  I called her last night so that K would get off my back, but I am still a bit worried about Lisa.  Well, girl told me that Lisa moved to Ft. Myers and was doing well.  When I mentioned how she hasn’t called or emailed me since back in Nov, she started talking about how Lisa needed to find herself.  Yeah, whatever.  I do know that Lisa is either not on crack or this other girl doesn’t know it.  If she were, this girl would have told me to call Lisa and that she needed me.    We chatted on for a while and this girl asked me about my future plans.  I told her how I was still planning to move, but have been having a hard time selling the house.  She couldn’t sell hers after Wilma either, so she is just renting it out.  Skip to this morning.  After getting ready for work, I noticed that my cell had a missed call.  It was LISA!!  I listened to the voice mail.  “Sherie, it’s Lisa.  I spoke to Lee last night and she told me you still haven’t sold your house.  I have someone who is interested in buying over there, but I don’t know what you are asking for.  Please email me today with your asking price and if she is interested, I’ll have her call you.”  That was it.  No “Hi, How you doing”.  No “Sorry I haven’t called in a while”.  No “Hey girl, I moved to Ft. Myers!”  Nothing!  I was so pissed off this morning.  I can’t believe this bitch had the nerve to call me about business after not speaking to me in 3 months!  Lisa is playing real estate agent now.  I was so tempted to call right back and tell her to go to hell.  I was going to get to work and send her an email telling her to kiss my ass.  That I would rather work at my crappy job for 70+ hours a week than to have her get any sort of commission for selling my house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-114010493206231214?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/114010493206231214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=114010493206231214' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114010493206231214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/114010493206231214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/oh-no-not-crack.html' title='Oh no, not Crack!'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13678075.post-113987018564278284</id><published>2006-02-13T17:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T17:46:03.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Testing My Patience</title><content type='html'>I am so ready to leave.  I could care less about anything right now.  These people constantly make my head hurt!  “Well, at my old company we used to do this.”  I don’t give a fuck what you did at your old company.  I’ve been here 6 years doing the same crap, I think I know how it’s done.  “Well, you’ll just have to work that into the schedule…”  Fuck your stupid schedules!  “Aren’t you going to explain how this works to me?”  WHY?  You are the project manager!  You aren’t going to do any real work.  Besides, can’t you read the spec yourself?  I leave in 2 weeks for my conference.  It’s not nearly quick enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really going to do a very upbeat post today, but I don’t have the strength or energy right now.  I’ll have to do it later.  I’ve got stories about the new movie Something New, strippers, LA, a wedding, and crack.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chele – I ordered your book at my local Barnes and Nobles.  It should be here any day now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn – I was laying in bed last night watching Flava of Love.  Within 5 minutes of the show being on, I was wishing I had your number to call you so we could talk about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shelly – Missed you at work today.  You always seem to have a calming effect on me when they stress me out.  You better get back to work soon.  You are all I’ve got since Ben left me/us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13678075-113987018564278284?l=insidesp.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/feeds/113987018564278284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13678075&amp;postID=113987018564278284' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/113987018564278284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13678075/posts/default/113987018564278284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insidesp.blogspot.com/2006/02/testing-my-patience.html' title='Testing My Patience'/><author><name>SP</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10445902920235325021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
