<?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-3245104</id><updated>2011-04-22T01:12:45.461-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Alice Childress</title><subtitle type='html'>try not to think about it</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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>107</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-85020596</id><published>2002-11-24T16:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-24T16:15:31.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I now have a livejournal.  Bookmark&lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/Kristinel"&gt;Kristinel&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-85020596?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/85020596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/85020596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#85020596' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-84969885</id><published>2002-11-23T10:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-23T10:23:09.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>[eight songs that get stuck in your head frequently]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. All songs that are played in heavy rotation on KJOY (My co-worker listens to it.)&lt;br /&gt;    That would be about 100 songs ranging from Rod Stewart to Loverboy.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[four beverages you drink frequently]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Water&lt;br /&gt;2. Dr. Pepper&lt;br /&gt;3. Dr. Pepper Red&lt;br /&gt;4. multiple flavors of Tropicana Twister&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[five tv shows you liked when you were a little kid]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You can't do that on Television&lt;br /&gt;2. Romper Room&lt;br /&gt;3. Sesame Street &lt;br /&gt;4. Kids Inc&lt;br /&gt;5. Double Dare&lt;br /&gt;6. Today's Special&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[four places to go in your area]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Jones Beach&lt;br /&gt;2. New York City&lt;br /&gt;3. The Hamptons&lt;br /&gt;4. Old Bethpage Restoration&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[four things to do when you're bored]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Watch TV&lt;br /&gt;2. Take a walk&lt;br /&gt;3. Go on the Internet&lt;br /&gt;4. Play Nintendo&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[four things that never fail to cheer you up]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A beautiful day.&lt;br /&gt;2. A good song playing on my car stereo.&lt;br /&gt;3. Eating out.&lt;br /&gt;4. Alex&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[four things you can't live without]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My car&lt;br /&gt;2. My cd's&lt;br /&gt;3. A Television&lt;br /&gt;4. Cable television&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[about ten years ago *list three things*]&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I had a crush on Mike Rooke. (does anyone even remember him?)&lt;br /&gt;2. I had braces and really big blue glasses.&lt;br /&gt;3. I had bangs.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[about two years ago *list three things*]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My boyfriend of five years broke up with me.&lt;br /&gt;2. I was in my senior year at Binghamton University.&lt;br /&gt;3. I just scored third row tickets to Barenaked Ladies in Buffalo.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[about one year ago *list three things*]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I was driving to Binghamton from Herkimer every weekend.&lt;br /&gt;2. I worked at Fleet.&lt;br /&gt;3. I was miserable living at home.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[today...]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm on Long Island. &lt;br /&gt;2. I work for a law firm in Hempstead (a.k.a. the ghetto)&lt;br /&gt;3. I have a sprained ankle.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[seven things you love]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Alex&lt;br /&gt;2. Laughing&lt;br /&gt;3. Dr. Pepper&lt;br /&gt;4. the sun&lt;br /&gt;5. running&lt;br /&gt;6. my parents&lt;br /&gt;7. kitty cats&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[seven things you dislike]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. people in the United States who chose to not learn/speak English.  (sorry, but I work with these people everyday.  My job can make you the most prejudice person.)&lt;br /&gt;2. commuting&lt;br /&gt;3. driving in Hempstead.  The people there just walk out in front of moving cars.&lt;br /&gt;4. Long Island drivers in general. They all need to go back to drivers ed.  They all seem to think a four way stop sign means whoever is faster gets to go first.  Forget this right of way crap.&lt;br /&gt;5. having a migrane&lt;br /&gt;6. telemarketers&lt;br /&gt;7. The elderly who drive.  Especially when they drive during rush hour.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[seven things on your desk at work]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. a phone&lt;br /&gt;2. a computer&lt;br /&gt;3. a desk calendar&lt;br /&gt;4. a crate&lt;br /&gt;5. files&lt;br /&gt;6. a memo pad&lt;br /&gt;7. some pens and highlighters&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[seven facts about you]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm 5'6  &lt;br /&gt;2. I'm from Central New York.  (Where is that?) It's located between Albany and Syracuse.  (Where is that?  Is that near Elmira?) No, Elmira is in Southern New York.  If you look at a map of New York and point to the exact center of the state, that is where I'm from. (Huh?)&lt;br /&gt;3. I have absolutely no decorating sense.  I have been in my apartment for three months and my walls are still bare. &lt;br /&gt;4. I love to eat.  I also gain weight easily.  This is why I run.&lt;br /&gt;5. I run four miles six days a week.&lt;br /&gt;6. I studied voice in college.  Now I don't even sing in my car.  I'm kind of going through a crisis.&lt;br /&gt;7. I'm an only child.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[7 artists/bands/people should give a listen to]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Coldplay and/or Radiohead (they sound so much a like.)&lt;br /&gt;2. Ben Folds/Ben Folds Five &lt;br /&gt;3.  Weezer (most importantly the first two albums)&lt;br /&gt;4. John Mayer (although I completely made myself sick of the man.  He still rocks.)&lt;br /&gt;5. David Gray&lt;br /&gt;6. Jimmy Eat World&lt;br /&gt;7. Star Sailor&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[nine things you like about the opposite/same sex]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Deep voices.  The deeper the better. &lt;br /&gt;2. Facial and chest hair.&lt;br /&gt;3. The tiny little asses.&lt;br /&gt;4. That area near the pelvis that kind of petrudes.  You know.  That bone that is where women have hips.&lt;br /&gt;5. Man hugs.&lt;br /&gt;6. The way the smell.&lt;br /&gt;7. I like dishevled hair.  &lt;br /&gt;8. They eat more than me.  I don't feel bad about over eating around them.&lt;br /&gt;9. They are perpetual children.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[four things you would eat on the last day of your life] &lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Pizza&lt;br /&gt;2. Burger King Whopper Value Meal&lt;br /&gt;3. chinese food&lt;br /&gt;4. strawberry and bannana smoothies&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[five records from your collection that you will never get tired of]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Coldplay-Parachutes&lt;br /&gt;2. Radiohead-The Bends&lt;br /&gt;3. Ben Folds-Rockin' the Suburbs&lt;br /&gt;4. Ben Folds Five-The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner&lt;br /&gt;5. Weezer-Weezer (the blue album)&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[six music celebrities you would have sex with]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Rivers Cuomo from Weezer&lt;br /&gt;2. Chris Martin from Coldplay&lt;br /&gt;3. Brandon Boyd of Incubus&lt;br /&gt;4. Dave Grohl&lt;br /&gt;5. Every member of Ben Folds Five&lt;br /&gt;6. John Mayer&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[four vacations you have taken]&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Wilmington, Delaware for John Mayer.&lt;br /&gt;2. Multiple trips to Long Island before I lived here.&lt;br /&gt;3. Boston&lt;br /&gt;4. Multiple day trips.  Too many to mention.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-84969885?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/84969885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/84969885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#84969885' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-84969055</id><published>2002-11-23T09:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-23T09:36:12.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sorry that I have been MIA for so long.  It seems that whenever I think about posting I decide to get off the internet and do something more productive (Nintendo).  I've decided that this post will not include the usual Long Island topic of conversation which happens to be the traffic.  I have realized that everytime I see Alex's parents we talk about how bad the traffic is, and last night I had dinner with Alex's sister-in-law's parents and we talked about how bad the traffic is.  &lt;br /&gt;Speaking of dinner last night, Alex and I got lost on our way there.  This, of course, was not my fault.  Whenever it rains and it is dark out Alex becomes the world's worst driver.  We ended up taking a wrong turn and headed west instead of east.  Eventually we got there, but it just took us a few minutes longer.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving is coming and I will not be going home.  I probably won't be going home for Christmas either.  I just hate the drive.  It is too long and there are way too many cars on the way off the Island.  Ooops, sorry.  I started talking about the traffic.  Let me think what is going on besides complaints about the traffic.  Not a hell of a lot.  I sprained my ankle last night.  I stepped in dog shit while running.  When I got home I took my shoes off, left them on the porch, went inside to get stuff to clean them, and when I stepped back out I misjugded the distance and twisted the left ankle.  This means no running for a few days.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for weekend activities, I was thinking about taking a day trip to the city that Alex quickly threw out.  He is sick.  (In men terms:  "I have a sore throat.  I'm going to die.  I am so sick" ---Woman terms: "Are you nautious?  Have a headache?  Have a fever?"---Men terms: "No, I just have a sore throat."---Woman terms: "Get over it!  Your not sick.  You have a sore throat.")  Why do men act like the world is going to end when they get the tiniest cold?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-84969055?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/84969055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/84969055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_11_01_archive.html#84969055' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-83439949</id><published>2002-10-23T23:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-23T23:05:24.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been too distracted to actually take the time and post.  Work is work.  I have found that if I take the Southern State Parkway I can actually cut ten minutes out of my commute.  Three weekends ago I went back to Ilion.  Left Long Island around 8, got stuck in Columbus Day traffic and didn't get to Ilion until 1:45am.  The weekend after that Alex and I actually decided to go on a date.  We ate at Friday's and then went to see Punch Drunk Love.  I loved it and he thought it was ok.  Of course, I liked all of Paul Thomas Anderson's past movies, so I wasn't shocked that I liked this one.  Oh, I also bought Ben Fold's live album.  I was pleasantly surprised to see two new songs as well as two added songs on the DVD.  Got new tires put on my car.  Washed my car.  Life is pretty bland.  Go to work and hang out.  Next cd to buy would be David Gray's new one "New Day at Midnight".  I'm tired. Time for bed.      &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-83439949?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/83439949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/83439949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83439949' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-82592476</id><published>2002-10-06T09:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-06T09:47:06.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I started working on Monday.  I like the job so far.  The commute sucks.  I live in Levittown and my job is in Hempstead.  On a Sunday morning I can just hop onto the Hempstead-Bethpage Turnpike and get to my place of work in 15 minutes.  During rush hour on a weekday it can take up to 50 minutes.  My office is literally 8 miles from where i'm living, but traffic and about a million traffic lights makes it impossible to move your car over 30 miles per hour.  In the world of entertainment, Mr Ben Folds's live album comes out on Tuesday.  This live album is also a DVD with live footage.  I'm very excited about this.  I'm still trying to figure out when I'm going to buy it.  Only a certain number of copies have the DVD on them.  I think i'm going to try to find a store that is open early in the morning and get it before work.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;In health news, it appears that my chronic heart burn is back.  I had this problem while I was living at home and got a prescription for Prevacid to take care of the problem.  It did take care of the problem but the prescription ran out and I don't have health insurance until January.  Now I'm in pain and trying to find out how I'm going to afford $125.00 a month for drugs.  I'm also trying to figure out how to get the prescription when i'm currently 300 miles from my Doctor. I've been downing massive amounts of over the counter antacid medicines and none of them work.  I may have to to to my parents next weekend and figure something out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-82592476?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/82592476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/82592476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82592476' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-82014749</id><published>2002-09-23T18:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-23T18:44:20.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After 20something interviews and over 50 faxes of my resume I am now employed.  I start with Blockstein &amp; Chase on Monday for $13/hr.  Actually the story goes more like this.  Last Monday I had an interview with Konica in Glen Cove (about 13 miles from me).  The next tuesday I had an interview with Blockstein &amp; Chase.  Got home from Blockstein &amp; Chase and they called me to offer a second interview on Thursday.  I accepted.  Thursday I got a call from Konica where they offered me a job at $12/hr.  I accepted.  I still went to my interview on Thursday because Blockstein &amp; Chase is closer to me and had better hours.  Went to get my physical for Konica on Friday.  Sitting in my apartment around 3 this afternoon and got a call from  Blockstein &amp; Chase where they offered me the job.  I accepted.  Got a call from Konica an hour later to remind me of orientation and told them that I couldn't take the job.  So, now I am employed by a law firm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw Coldplay on Thursday.  Best live show I've seen in a while.  The night was perfect.  Clear skies, full moon, 60 degrees temp, in a venue set right next to the ocean.  The audience was perfect.  All my age or older.  This was the type of crowd that preferred sitting instead of standing.  (Which is what I prefer for a band like Coldplay.  No moshing here.)  They sounded great and Chris Martin is not only hot but is also a great front man.  The band seemed pretty hyped to be playing such a large venue in the NYC area.  No one expected them to sell as many tickets as they did.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday Alex and I went into the city to see Ellis Island.  Once again another great day.  Sunshine and blue skies.  Just a little humid.  We took the Long Island Rail Road to Penn Station (where they didn't stamp my ticket which means that I got a free ride to the city.)  Then we took the subway to Battery Park.  Lines were long but I wasn't in a hurry.  The ferry that takes you to Ellis also stops at the Statue of Liberty.  We didn't see the point in going there because the statue is closed due to terroism threats.  The museum was great and I took some great pictures of the city skyline.  The wall at Ellis has Alex's paternal grandfather's name ("Peter Leicht"), his maternal grandfather's name ("Frank Scifo"), and his grandfather's uncle's name ("Anthony Scifo").  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;Right now I'm trying to fight off the sudden attack of ants that have appeared in my kitchen sink.  I hate ants.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-82014749?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/82014749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/82014749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#82014749' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-81523115</id><published>2002-09-12T17:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-12T17:20:24.833-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey everyone.  It has been a while but I still do not have internet access.  It appears that my modem is all messed up and I can't afford to have a cable connection.  Right now I'm posting from the campus of CW Post.  I'm posing as a student.  I found out yesterday that I actually live in Levittown which is cool.  Most people have heard of Levittown and not of Plainedge.  Minutes from the Hicksville trainstaion, 6 miles from Alex and only a couple feet away from the most commercial road on all of Long Island, Hempstead Turnpike.  This road has movie theatres, target, kmart, shopping malls, every bank that exsists, ect ect ect.  If you need it this place has it.  I'm still looking for a job.  I'm not freaking out yet.  I have enough money saved up to cover costs and both Alex and my parents are helping me out.  Last weekend I went to see Sagamore Hill, which was the home to Theodore Roosevelt.  Tomorrow is Alex's birthday.  Thursday is Cold Play at Jones Beach (who's new album is good but not as good as parachutes).  Hopefully the weekend after that we will get to Manhattan.  I want to see Ellis Island.  I still need to get around to seeing my cousin and Jake.  I think overall I have adjusted better than I thought.  It helps that Alex's parents have helped out so much. ( My landlord thinks that his parents are my aunt and uncle.  They helped me get the place I am in now.)  They have even insisted on doing my laundry.  My parents are coming down the last week of September.  I'll have my dad bring his tools so that I can adjust the modem.  Until then, posts will be scarce.  Bye for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-81523115?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/81523115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/81523115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81523115' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80977501</id><published>2002-08-31T22:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-31T22:34:17.953-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey,  here I am on Long Island.  Typing to you from Alex's computer.  I have a place (in Plainedge) but I don't have a job yet and I don't have internet access.  I went on four interviews this past week.  I'll find out if those were successful in the coming week.  I will update more when I have the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80977501?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80977501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80977501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80977501' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80537678</id><published>2002-08-21T16:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-21T16:55:53.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow! What a day I have had.  My beautiful co-workers had a tiny surprise going away party.  A cake and card were present.  Everyone signed it and left a little note of niceness.  I am really shocked as to how people truley thought about me.  Most said stuff about wishing me luck and knowing that I will go far because I'm a "smart girl".  My boss told me that I will be greatly missed and that if I ever need any help in the future to not be afraid to call.  Some hugged me and others just were really sweet.  I was actually chocked up when I left.  Now I'm starting to get sad about leaving home.  I feel bad about leaving my mom behind.   My dad will be cool, but my mom spends so many nights alone and she worries about me.  I leave tomorrow morning around 8 so that I can beat the rush.  Then I will go and look at my first apartment at 6pm in Farmingdale.   This means that I probably won't be posting for a while.  Until then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80537678?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80537678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80537678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80537678' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80454441</id><published>2002-08-19T21:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-19T21:38:45.293-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Spoke to Jake tonight.  I forgot how much I loved venting and just talking about nothing at all with him.  He has this way of making you feel better about your life.  He should become a motivational speaker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80454441?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80454441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80454441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80454441' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80389772</id><published>2002-08-18T10:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-18T10:24:10.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It is Sunday.  I'm actually not at work and I'm bored.  This is what happens when Kristin gets bored. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What's your first name?: Kristin&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Middle name?: Elizabeth&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Last name?: Leonard&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Nick names?: 95% of the time Kristin.  5% of the time Kris (coming from my Mom and her family, Jodi and Alex). &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Birthday?: 8/14&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Zodiac sign?: leo&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Sex?: female &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Where do you live?: Ilion, NY  Soon to be somewhere in Nassua County Long Island&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Siblings and their ages?:  None&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Eye color?: Green&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Hair color?: Blonde&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Skin color?: Pale.  Very Pale White.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Favorite physical feature ABOVE your shoulders?:  My eyes, nose and that freckle on my right cheek.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Favorite... below shoulders?: Legs and ass.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Height?: 5'6.  Two inches above the average female height.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Weight?: I'm proud to say that the last visit to the doctor showed that I weigh less than I thought.  135lbs.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Do you think you have nice lips?: Haven't really thought about it.  Not to big.  Not to small.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. If you could dye your hair one color, what would it be?: Well, seeing as I have highlighted my hair multiple times.  I guess I would say blonde.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Have you ever dyed your hair?: See question #18&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Favorite nail polish color?: clear or neutral&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Piercings?: Got the ears pierced in 6th grade.  Closed them up.  Re-pierced them senior year.  Closed them up again.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Tattoos?: none &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Mental status? Stable&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Best friends offline? Every friend I have is offline.  I don't make on-line friends.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Best friends online?: I guess I would count my friends from school whom I often speak to online.  That would be Jacob (Jake) and Liz.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Do you have a good sense of humor?: Yes&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Are you intelligent? Yes, but not as smart as Alex.  (Eventhough he argues this fact often.)&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Do you like messing with the minds of unsuspecting fools?: Not really.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Can you find your way out of a tough situation?: It has happened many times.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Do you enjoy torture?: I must.  I always seem to be putting myself in situations where I feel emotionally tortured.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Whose mind have you messed up the worst so far?: Sadly,  I would have to say my ex-boyfriends.  Though I think he gave a big helping hand.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Who has messed up your mind worst so far?: Truthfully, my ex-boyfriend.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Do you believe in true love?: No.  I believe that you can love multiple people in different ways.  Longevity is based on communication, respect, mutuality, love, compassion, trust and companionship.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Have you ever loved someone of the opposite sex?: Yes.  Twice.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. The Best hair?: Haven't thought about it.  Although Angie Harmon of Law and Order has nice hair.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. The Best eyes? Time to be arrogant.  I tend to think I have fucking nice eyes.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. The Best nose?: Once again.  I really like my nose.  I'm not kidding.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. The Best dimples?: I don't know anyone with dimples.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. The Best body? My friends in college used to tell my I had the body, Sharon had the personality and Jen had the hair.  Although this is a nice compliment, these girls never saw me naked.  I don't really know anyone who I think has a nice body.  Most people upstate are fat.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. The Best fragrance?: A mix of Alex's deodorant and his own scent.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. The Best eyelashes?: My ex had the longest and curliest eyelashes this side of the Mississippi.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. The Best tackling skills?: I do't even know how to answer this one.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. The Best female voice?: Next to myself.  Audra MacDonald floors me.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. The Best male voice?: Hmmmm....I don't really have favorite male singers.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. The Best sense of humor?: Alex's brother seems to laugh at everything.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. The Best smile?: Alex (sorry I'm in love I have to say this.)&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. Makes you laugh?: Will and Grace&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. Makes you smile?: I smile even when I'm upset.  So, everything makes me smile.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. Gets you lost in their eyes?: I don't think I need to answer this one&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;50. Makes you want to kill them?: Senior citizens driving.  Need I say more.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51. Is the most mature?: Liz told me once in a fit of anger that I was a 40 year old in a 20 year olds body.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. Does everyone seem to listen to?: My opinions and thoughts tend to be thrown in the background.  No one listens to me.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. Have you known the longest?: Jodi :-)))))&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. Is the best writer?: All I have to say is that Alex had professors kissing his feet.  Reardon told him it was a "pleasure having him in her class".  He got all A's on her papers.  This from a professor who, on average, gives 80% of her students C's.  I would say Alex is a damn good writer.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. Is the best swimmer?: My friends are anti-swimmers.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56. Makes you feel better?: My mom.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57. Flirts?: Alex is a world class flirt.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58. Fastest runner?: I run but I wouldn't say that I'm fast. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59. Is the most annoying?: My mom.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60. Is the craziest?: Jake.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61. Is the sweetest?: Alex&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62. Is the best hugger?: see question #61&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63. Is the best kisser?: see question #61&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64. Cuddles the best?: see question #61&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65. Where do you go to school?: Graduated from Binghamton University.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66. Do you even go to school?: Not anymore.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67. Do you drink?: Nope&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68. Do you smoke?: Nope&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69. Do you get hyper?: Once a year.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70. Are you a people person?: God no.  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71. Freak, Prep, Skater, other?: person&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72. Does anyone have a crush on you?: I have been told so by certain people, but I will not disclose that information.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73. Do you have actual feelings for any guys?: No answer is needed.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74. Do you look for just sex in a relationship?: No.  Love first then sex.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75. Do you just go out with someone for the way they look, the way they act, or both?: For the way they think&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76. Favorite animal?: Cat&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;77. Favorite sport?: Tennis&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78. Favorite sight?: A good looking man, topless and mowing his lawn.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;79. Favorite sound?: hmm...too many to mention.  (Is this Inside the Actors Studio?)&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80. Favorite type of music?: Rock&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81. Favorite songs?: Too many.  Currently it would be "Why Georgia?" by John Mayer.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82. Favorite album?: Room for Squares, Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner, Weezer's Blue Album, The Bends, and many more.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;83. Favorite Bands/Singers?: John Mayer, Weezer, Ben Folds (Five), Barenaked Ladies, Cake, Radiohead and Coldplay (whom I'm seeing on September 19th)&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84. Favorite smell?: Wasn't this already answered?&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;85. Favorite food?: Chicken Pot Pie and a tasty ham dinner.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;86. Favorite candy?: M&amp;M's and Nutrageous.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;87. Favorite holiday? Nothing better than an atheist saying her favorite holiday is Christmas, or should I say the Winter Solstice.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88. Favorite computer application?: I have better things to do with my time than have a favorite computer application.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89. Favorite thing to do for fun?: chat with buds, run and listen to some great music.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90. Favorite color?: Green&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;91. Favorite brand of clothing?: If I had money to spend on clothes than I could answer a brand.  For now I will say anthing that is cheap and looks good on me.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;92. Favorite book? Cider House Rulse by John Irving.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93. Favorite movie?: Drama: Cider House Rules  Comedy: Office Space&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;94. Where do you want to visit the most?: The Canadian Atlantic Provinces.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;95. Where were you born?: Herkimer, NY&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;96. What did you get on your last report card?: Lol, um I think it might have been a 3.5 or something like that.  My last semester was a breeze and really helped my overall gpa.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;97. Favorite TV networks?: Bravo, VH1 and MTV (yes I still like the torture of reality tv shows like Sorority Life and the Real World.)&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;98. Favorite cartoon charcter?: Don't have one.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99. How many CD's do you own?: I stopped counting.  I can say that I probably only listen to 75% of them. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100. What is your element?: I quiet room surrounded by two to three middle to lower class people who have a brain in their heads.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;101. Coke or Pepsi?: Pepsi&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;102. Black or White?: Black&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;103. Favorite soda?: Dr Pepper&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;104. Do you have a boyfriend?: Yes&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;105. Have you ever cheated?: I would never do anything that low and hurtful.  I have more compassion than that.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;106. Have you ever helped someone cheat?: on someone else? My friends are not that low and hurtful.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;107. Who'd you help? (If answered yes): see question #106&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;108. Who do you like?: How do you answer a question like this?&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;109. What type do you like better?: again.  unanswerable.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;110. Crush on any famous people?: Sadly yes.  I find Rivers Cuomo attractive.  I stalk Rivers Cuomo.  Come on.  A short, Italian, emotionally unstable rockstar who looks like Buddy Holly.  Just my type. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;111. Funniest thing that's happened to you this month?: Can't remember. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;112. Weirdest thing that's happened to you this month?: Being hit on by the guy who works in the cafeteria at work.  "Did you go to Proctor High School?" "No."  "Did you go to MVCC?"  "NO".&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;113. What words or phrases do you overuse?: Fuck, wicked, ghetto and sick.  Thanks to my Long Islanders for ghetto and sick.  No one up here understands a damn thing I'm talking about. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;114. Favorite quote?: "Whatever happened to my lunch box?"  John Mayer in "83"&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;115. Personal quote?: Don't have one.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;116. Do you have many people on IM?  45 screen names all together.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;117. ICQ Number?  Don't have ICQ.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;118. IM Handle? If your reading this you already know that answer.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;119. AOL?: God no.  AOL is for losers.&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;120. Describe yourself in as few words as possible: Female, 5'6, 135 lbs, blonde hair, green eyes, runners legs, tight ass......&lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;121. East Side or West Side?: Where I come from it is North Side or South Side.  I'm from the Northside of Herkimer. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80389772?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80389772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80389772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80389772' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80367204</id><published>2002-08-17T16:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-17T16:35:10.740-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok, so I'm feeling somewhat better.  It seems I reacted too soon (as I thought I might have).  All of my buds eventually ended up sending me birthday greetings.  Hugs and kisses to all :-).  It also appears that I'm now looking into other living arrangements.  Lory keeps finding places that are way too close to Queens, but I am still willing to look at this one place in Elmont.  Eitherway, a trip to Long Island is definately going to take place next weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80367204?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80367204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80367204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80367204' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80317515</id><published>2002-08-16T09:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T09:32:22.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh, and I made a big mistake last night.  When arguing with Alex over the phone I accidentally called him Ryan.  Ryan would be the name of my ex-boyfriend.  Oops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80317515?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80317515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80317515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80317515' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80317477</id><published>2002-08-16T09:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-19T21:32:34.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I haven't had the best week.  First off working from 11:30 to 8:00pm every day of the fucking week sucks.  Especially when you also worked on Sunday and are now scheduled to work on Saturday.  Fuck!  The apartment search/moving is just completely stressing me out.  Basically, In order to get an apartment you need a job.  To get the job I need to be on Long Island.  To be on Long Island I need a place to stay.  The only person I know on Long Island is Alex and his parents won't let me stay with them longer than a week.  It also looks as if I won't be able to move into these places till October 1st.  That's a problem seeing as I quite my job and next week is my last week of employment.  So i'm jobless, homeless and the bills keep pooring in.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also a little pissed that my birthday sucked ass.  Every year I make a point to send a little note or just a tiny e-mail to a bud to wish them a happy b-day.  Jodi was the only friend who said anything.  Yes I'm being a spoiled brat, but I deserve to be when I put in and never get back.  Fuck that.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80317477?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80317477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80317477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80317477' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80179964</id><published>2002-08-13T07:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-13T08:59:04.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey look at what I found. &lt;a href="http://www.weezer.com/karlscorner/12/20020808jackass12big.jpg"&gt; Jonny Knoxville wearing a Harpur College sweatshirt&lt;/a&gt;.  Why is this significant?  Well for anyone who knows, Harpur College is the name of the liberal arts college at Binghamton University.  It was the original college name before the SUNY system took over in 1940 something.  Why would I care?  I graduated from Binghamton in May 2001.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80179964?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80179964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80179964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80179964' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80160089</id><published>2002-08-12T19:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-12T19:50:05.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fleet, Fleet and more Fleet&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/h&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;It's 7:35pm and I just got home from work.  Those lovely folks at Fleet have me scheduled from 10:30am to 7:00pm.  I know what most people my age would think.  "Wow, you get to sleep in.  Cool."  But most people are not like me.  I really can't remember a time when I have been able to "sleep in".  See, it has nothing to do with scheduling or too much work to do.  It has to do with my fucked up mind that won't let me sleep past a certain hour.  I basically wake up every day, no matter what day of the week it is, at 5:30am and can't fall back to sleep.  Let's use last Saturday for an example.  I went to bed at 11pm and woke up at 5:30am, looked at the clock and rolled over to fall back to sleep.  I rolled and rolled until I finally gave up and got out of bed.  That pretty much sums up every morning of my life since I was 19.  So, although I am scheduled to work at 10:30am I still get up at 5:30, go running, run errands and then go to work.&lt;br /&gt;In other news.  It looks like a Fleet transfer will not be taking place.  I guess my first day on Long Island will be spent at ManPower.  God I hope they have a job for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80160089?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80160089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80160089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80160089' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80042359</id><published>2002-08-09T17:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-09T19:15:24.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok, I have PMS so I feel like ranting.&lt;br /&gt;I really hate the little brats that live in my neighborhood.  They jump in front of moving vehicles and ride their bikes down hills and into guard rails...ON PURPOSE!!!!!I&lt;br /&gt;I applied to two jobs through fleet on Long Island.  I haven't heard anything yet.  If I don't get a job through them I'm going to do temp work until I find something permanent.&lt;br /&gt;I've been training at work.  I hate training, but I would say this trainee is the best yet.&lt;br /&gt;My forbearance for the $120.00 a month loan was approved.  I will be paying the interest until the forebearance comes to an end.  That equals $40.00 a month.&lt;br /&gt;My stress levels are sky rocketing.  I'm beginning to realize how much I'm going to miss home when I leave.  I actually like my job and am starting to make friends there.  Though, my hands will be very happy when I leave.  (Too much typing.)  I'm going to miss my parents a lot.  Unlike college I won't be coming home for extended periods of time.  This is going to be my new home.  The only time I come home will be for christmas.&lt;br /&gt;West Nile Virus.  Shut the fuck up media.  Ok, first off the only people who have been killed so far are old and weak.  Call me cold, but I really have no remorse for someone who dies after the age of 70.  If someone makes it to 75 they have already passed the average life expectancy.  All they do is either rot in nursing homes, drive slowly and pull out into traffic or go shopping and be very very pickey about the way their groceries are bagged.  Those that get the virus at a young age are treated and recover.  Hmmm...sounds a lot like the flu to me.  If they start talking about people under 40 dying of this virus then I will start to worry.  Not only that, there haven't been any reported cases of humans with the virus in Upstate New York.  WKTV Utica makes it seem like we are all going to die.  (Watch as Kristin now contracts West Nile Virus and dies a horrible death.)&lt;br /&gt;Spoke to my cousin Emily last night.  She is getting married next summer and wants me to sing in her wedding.  I said yes.  I wonder what I will sing?&lt;br /&gt;I could rant and rave about the current trend of females living with their boyfriends before marriage and then getting knocked up, but I won't.  All I have to say about that is....well, you can't hear me laughing.  Most women who live with men never end up marrying them and those that do marry end up getting divorced.  Call me old fashioned.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I think I've covered all bases.  Now I'm off to wal-mart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80042359?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80042359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80042359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80042359' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-80040647</id><published>2002-08-09T16:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-09T16:22:18.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've got lots to post but not enought time to do so.  In the mean time, check out this &lt;a href="http://www.riverscuomo.com"&gt;great site.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-80040647?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80040647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/80040647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80040647' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-79997038</id><published>2002-08-08T16:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T17:12:16.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>making some changes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-79997038?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79997038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79997038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79997038' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-79908679</id><published>2002-08-06T17:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T16:52:21.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's completly crazy the way my life went from nothing much going on, to everything happening all at once.  I basically have to decide tonight if I'm going to either take a few days off from work and go down to Long Island to search for apartments with Lory, or if I should put my two week notice in and stay with Alex's parents until we find an apartment.  The problem is that in the greater NYC area they tend to shy away from letting people rent places without a job.  I am currently employed but will not be when I get down to Long Island.  So,  I have two choices.  I can get a transfer with Fleet or I could try to find a temp job.  Either way I won't be staying with these jobs.  Just something to get me going.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-79908679?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79908679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79908679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79908679' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-79570720</id><published>2002-07-29T20:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-29T20:12:59.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The weekend came and went.  Saw &lt;i&gt;Goldmember&lt;/i&gt; on Saturday night and it sucked.  I don't have enough energy to go into detail as to why.  I met up with Alex and Seth at SPAC.  The plan was that we would meet up at the main gate to SPAC.  When I got there I was diverted to the concert parking, and for one hour I was sitting in my car surrounded by tailgating male Dave Mathews Band fans.  At one point on the frat-like guys came up to my car and offered me a bear.  When I refused he then told me that I should come join their DMB pre-concert bbq.  I declined politely, rolled up my window and waiting for Alex and Seth.  Once they arrived we met up with Alex's friend Rob and walked the streets of Saratoga.  The day went by fast and although Alex and I were together we weren't "together".  I honestly feel that I spent more time with Seth than Alex.  But all is well.  Alex is coming back up here this weekend.  Right now, I'm exhausted and very very hot.  Time for bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-79570720?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79570720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79570720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79570720' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-79456196</id><published>2002-07-26T19:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-26T19:02:40.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Can someone explain to me why I'm always depressed on Friday nights?  I've missed Alex like crazy this week and it doesn't look like we will really have quality time together for about six or so weeks.  (Yes, he is coming here this weekend, but it is on Sunday and only for that day and night.  He is also going to be with his friend Seth.)  This will be the longest we have gone without physical contact since last summer.  The only thing that will get me through is thinking about the fact that in six weeks I will be seeing him every night.  This sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-79456196?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79456196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79456196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79456196' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-79415044</id><published>2002-07-25T20:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-25T20:24:46.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Spoke to Liz tonight.  Found out that a friend of ours from college, Sharon, hasn't gotten a hold of us in a while because her mother passed away from liver failure.  This friend's parents were struggling to get by on just her mother's income.  Now that her mother is dead she is left to care for her two teenaged sisters and her disabled father.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-79415044?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79415044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79415044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79415044' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-79365221</id><published>2002-07-24T18:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-25T20:22:37.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm such a dork.  I wrote Alex an e-mail last night telling him that I was going to call him tonight because I wouldn't be able to talk to him for the following two nights.  (Being that he is going to see Weezer and Jimmy Eat World.)  I just got off the phone with him and he couldn't talk long.  Why?  He is going to the Weezer concert!  Hello.  I totally forgot that today was wednesday.  I'm totally off track.  Either way I'm in a good mood.  Alex scored some good seats to Coldplay for the two of us at Jones Beach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-79365221?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79365221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79365221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79365221' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-79263125</id><published>2002-07-22T13:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-22T13:25:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;h&gt;Friday July 19 2002&lt;/h&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drove to New Jersey.  Lot's of traffic but found the hotel without any problems.  Alex's parents had no problems with traffic so they came to the hotel and we all drove together to the wedding.  Half way there and only a half an hour till the ceremony and we get stuck in a traffic jam in a down pour.  Finally get the the "church" (which was a holy roller/born again/crazy christian church) and the bridal party was running late because of the rain.  The ceremony was short but I just had a problem with two things.  #1. The playing of recorded "holy roller" christian pop songs that the groom and his parents enthusiastically sang a long with, #2. the vows which stressed how the woman was put on earth to serve her man and be basically his slave.  You know the wedding vows?  The vows that people in the western world kind of stopped using after 1950.  The reception was bad.  Cocktail hour was too long and too loud.  No place to sit.  The wedding band was too loud and didn't play anything after 1979.  The food sucked.  Overall the wedding was just too damn long.  Afterward (around 12midnight) alex and I drove back to the hotel and got to sleep around 2am.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;h&gt;Saturday July 20 2002&lt;/h&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke at 9:30am and was out of the hotel by 11am.  Ate at a Perkins (which was much better than Denny's) and began our drive to Delaware.  Drove through Princeton which was quite nice.  Then drove through Philadelphia.  I had Alex take pictures while I was driving.  I've never been to Philadelphia.  Got to Wilmington around 3/4ish.  It was fucking hot in Delaware.  We just hung out in a Borders till it was time for dinner.  Arrived at Kahunaville for the concert at 6:30ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;John Mayer concert&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to run down my summary of this by numbers.&lt;br /&gt;1.  Kahunaville is an outdoor stage and a bar in one.  This equals lots of drunk people.&lt;br /&gt;2.  A shit load of under 21ers.  That is annoying in itself.&lt;br /&gt;3.  It was fucking hot out.&lt;br /&gt;4.  The opening act was good but not good enough to sit through for 45 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;5.  Three women my mom's age trying to get backstage to "get with" John Mayer.  When there are hotter women between the ages of 18 and 25 in his audience that he would much rather have sex with.&lt;br /&gt;6.  The sound was terrible.  You couldn't hear his vocals or the accoustic guitar.  It was only good when he played electric.&lt;br /&gt;7.  It wasn't loud enough.  This means that I couldn't hear the show over the drunk people yelling things like; "Mayer...Mayer", "John I love you.  You're sexy.",  "1,2,3...(something I couldn't decifer).  The best part was when one of the guys tried to crowd surf and failed miserably because &lt;b&gt;HE WAS AT A FUCKING JOHN MAYER CONCERT NOT KORN&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Basically it just pisses me off that concerts are being overrun by young kids who can't tell the difference between a high school garage band and a technically percise professional band.  The show was bad.  The sound was bad.  The lighting was bad.  The drummer sucked big time.  Yet, I've been to a few John Mayer message boards and kids are saying that the Wilmington show was great.  If they thought that is great they would probably have a heart attack at a show that is literally good.  It would be too much for them to digest.  Their bodies would explode.  And could someone explain to me why all the sorority, under 21 and just turned 18, and entering college in the fall girls felt they had to dance like they were at a rave?  How can they possible relate to John Mayer when he sings about a "quarter life crisis" and being in you twenties and out of college?  Fuck them.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;h&gt;Post John Mayer&lt;/h&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drive home was spent with Alex and I expressing our disappointment in the show.  It also consisted of us trying to keep one another awake so that we actually made it to Long Island and not to a hospital.  Got absolutely no sleep because his parents were babysitting his 3 year old cousin.  The house was rockin'.  Decided to not attempt driving home in traffic and left this morning at 5am.  How the hell can there possibly be a lot of cars on the road between midnight and 5am?  When they say the NYC is the city that never sleeps they mean it.  When we came back into Staten Island at 2am there was a lot of traffic.  When I left at 5am this morning there was a lot of traffic.  Frightening that in a little over a month I'll be living in this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm home and feeling guilty for calling in sick.  Especially seeing as I did it from a cell phone on the Hutchinson Parkway.  Oh, well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-79263125?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79263125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79263125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79263125' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-79107406</id><published>2002-07-18T11:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-18T11:04:58.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's 10:49am and I'm not at work.  Believe it or not I'm actually sick.  I didn't want to take the risk of going to work sick and then not get better for my drive to New Jersey tomorrow.  Now i'm home and bored.  I tried apartment searching but the more I look the more overwhelmed I feel.  Is there anyway that I can hire someone to do the job for me?  Then I opened my e-mail to check for the map Alex's mom was supposed to send me.  This map, as I was told, is to give me directions to the wedding from my hotel.  Well, this map gives me directions from Alex's house to my hotel.  Hello?  Does anyone see the problem here?  I can't call Alex to clear up the situation because he is at work.   Then I tried to figure out how the hell I'm gonna get a forebearance on a loan due in August.  Forget about it.  There is no way they will grant it to me.  What the hell is this "Monthy income &lt;b&gt;BEFORE TAXES&lt;/b&gt;"?  News to the loan people.  I don't get that money when I get paid.  Then there is the, "forebearance if your total Federal Loans monthy payments equal 20% or more of your monthly income".  Like I don't have other bills to pay except school Loans.  I'm moving to Mexico to avoid paying my bills.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news.  The big wedding is tomorrow.  The reason I might need a map to the wedding is because Alex's parents might get caught in traffic on the way there.  In that case they will call me and I will meet them at the wedding.  This is where you might be asking yourself why they just don't leave early.  Well, because their other son (Jonathan) and his wife (Kelli) have a slight addiction to alcohol and they will be going with Alex's parents so they will have a sober ride home.  This equals, Kristin getting screwed.  At least I have John Mayer to look forward to on Saturday.  The concert is sold out, by the water and a small setting.  This is gonna be good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-79107406?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79107406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/79107406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79107406' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-78942577</id><published>2002-07-14T15:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-14T15:25:38.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My cousin Tim is friends with a guy named Brett who is friends with my ex-boyfriend.  This ex-boyfriend broke up with me two years ago from November.  That would make it almost two years ago.  I have since gotten a new boyfriend and graduated from college.  My ex-boyfriend, it appears, has not gotten over it and was kicked out of college.  Let me explain: &lt;P&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my Grandfather's birthday and the family got together to have some cake and give some gifts.  My cousin Tim was telling me how he has shared some conversations recently with my ex-boyfriend.  Come to find out my ex is telling everyone that I broke up with him.  That the pain of my breaking up with him was so great that he turned to alcohol.  My cousin said that he (my ex) seemed very upset about the whole ordeal.  How can this be?  My ex-boyfriend broke up with me one week ago before our 5 year anniversary.  He called me up drunk and said "so &lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt; is over".  He then told me how he was drunk.  So could someone explain to me why he seems to think that I broke up with him.  This is totally fucked up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-78942577?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78942577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78942577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78942577' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-78921069</id><published>2002-07-13T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-13T22:45:32.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We had digital cable for 24hours, but then the free fun disappeared and now we are back to basic cable.  Guess there will be no Making of the Video Weezer on MTV2 for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-78921069?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78921069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78921069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78921069' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-78753426</id><published>2002-07-09T20:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-09T20:38:38.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm finally over the sadness that consumed me after Alex's departure.  Life has now come back to its normal self.  It looks like I may, and I say, may have found a roommate.  Her name is Lory, is from Syracuse and is moving to Long Island because of a job she starts in September.  She seems pretty hyped about living with someone from Upstate NY.  I hope I don't disappoint.  If the apartment situation gets settled then all I'll have to worry about is finding a job.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally saw the new Weezer video featuring the Muppets.  It is a must see.  All of you must go to &lt;a href="http://www.weezer.com/news"&gt;Weezer.com&lt;/a&gt; and check it out.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Big" weekend is in ten days.  The hotel is booked and the concert tickets purchased.  Alex is freaking out because he hasn't received them yet.  When we purchased them three months ago the information provided stated that we would get them express mail 48hours before the show.  The wedding is also that weekend.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Alex consumes 30% of our conversations with marriage talk.  On Saturday he asked me if I would marry him (not in a proposal kind of way, but in a hypothetical kind of way).  I said that I have thought about it and that if I felt the same way for him in a year as I do now, then yes I would marry him.  I definately  would never make such a bold move without being with someone for at least two years.  Plus, I'm way too young.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tongue is numb.  Just a slight area on my right side.  The numbness comes and goes.  It started on Saturday and was gone on Sunday and Monday, but for some strange reason came back today.  Coincidentally, I had a doctors appt scheduled for tomorrow and I cancelled it yesterday.  Just my luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-78753426?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78753426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78753426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78753426' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-78646190</id><published>2002-07-07T07:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-07T07:50:43.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's very early and I'm very sad.  Alex left this morning.  We didn't really have that great of a night and the goodbye was barely existent.  I hope he calls when he gets home.  I was basically in a bitchy mood yesterday and it made our trip not so pleasant.  I really hate the fact that I just can't seem to express my emotions.  I just lock up and nothing comes out. Thank god he is so understanding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-78646190?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78646190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78646190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78646190' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-78479732</id><published>2002-07-02T17:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-02T17:40:44.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I got the greatest phone call last night.  Jake Freidman, out of nowhere, called me just to chat.  This is a big deal because Jake and I haven't spoken since May 2001.  I graduated and he transferred from Binghamton to NYU (not that I could blame him).  He is now living in NYC for the summer and was lonely.  We have spoken a little through e-mail and im, but this happens to be the first phone call shared between us ever (he was my neighbor at Binghamton).  We caught up and made plans for He, Sharon (another friend from Binghamton) and I to get together in NYC. This will take place either the first weekend of August or sometime in September.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex will be coming here this weekend.  He has a four day and I only have the fourth off.  God knows what he is going to do while I'm at work.  I'm still trying to think of something for us to do while he is here.  Hopefully it won't be as fucking hot as it is now.  I've also finally gotten around to booking the hotel for the wedding/John Mayer weekend.  We will be staying at a Days Inn.  This reminds me, Alex has two tickets for Jimmy Eat World at the Roseland Ballroom in NYC.  Anyone interested, who knows me,  feel free to e-mail me.  He has no one to go with :-(.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got a sunburn last weekend while I was washing and waxing my car.  Now I'm freaking out about skin cancer.  Got my glasses but the left lens was the wrong prescription so I brought them back.  Training someone new at work.  He is a fast learner but Fleet is really bad when it comes to getting new employees intranet access.  Other than that I'm chillin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-78479732?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78479732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78479732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78479732' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-78283691</id><published>2002-06-27T16:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-27T16:51:36.566-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Having been an Atheist now for 7 or so years, I was quite pleased to hear the current ruling against the Pledge of Alligiance.  Not that I think someone should waste their time fighting this, or that I think the Pledge is really all that offensive to us Atheist, but more along the lines that I'm glad an Atheist has finally stood up and said "Hey, guess what?  Not everyone believes in a God."  I'm constantly hearing how we have to be careful not to discriminate against people for religious reasons.  Watch out for the Christians, Jews, Hindus, Muslims ect, but what about those people that don't believe in a God?  Even if this is overturned I'm glad that something finally happened.  Enough said. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-78283691?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78283691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78283691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78283691' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-78201271</id><published>2002-06-25T21:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-26T19:49:34.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It has been a while.  Busy but not really.  Went to Long Island last weekend.  Didn't really do anything special.  I've been assigned to work on a special project at work.  This will involve me spending two weeks scheduled as such: Sunday-Saturday a total of 52 hours.  These weeks happen to have been scheduled in August.  One during my birthday and the other during the last week.  I'm not even sure if I'm still going to be working at Fleet that week.  It all depends on when I move to Long Island.  Speaking of birthdays.  A certain someone who will go unnamed had a birthday two weekends ago.  I sent that someone a birthday card and have yet to hear/receive word from them that they got the card.  Maybe it got lost in the mail?  (J Lo is such a whore.)  &lt;br /&gt;This upcoming weekend will be spent at home.  The next, Alex might possibly come to see me.  He has a 4 day weekend.  The weekend after that I'll be home.  Then I'm going to NJ and the John Mayer concert.  Then the following weekend Alex and Seth are coming up here to see Dave Mathews Band at Saratoga (of course I'm not going).  Basically July is going to rock.  August is gonna pretty much suck.  I'll be down to the wire (saving, getting an apartment and finding a job) and will be working way too much.  It's too hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-78201271?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78201271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/78201271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78201271' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-77791690</id><published>2002-06-15T20:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-16T14:57:49.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm bored which means that I'm going to be making some changes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-77791690?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77791690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77791690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77791690' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-77789934</id><published>2002-06-15T18:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-15T18:59:46.163-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;TABLE BORDER=0 BGCOLOR="#000000" COLOR="#FFFFFF" LINK="#ffcc00" CELLSPACING=2 CELLPADDING=2 WIDTH=150&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;A HREF="http://selectsmart.com/RELIGION" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;IMG SRC="http://www.SelectSmart.com/imagelinks/sechum.jpg" WIDTH=49 HEIGHT=59 BORDER=0 ALIGN=bottom&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;CENTER&gt;&lt;FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#ffcc00"&gt;According to the SelectSmart.com Belief System Selector, my #1 belief match is &lt;B&gt;Secular Humanism.&lt;/B&gt; &lt;/BR&gt; What do you believe?&lt;/B&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#FFFFFF"&gt; Visit &lt;A HREF="http://www.SelectSmart.com/RELIGION" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#ffcc00"&gt;&lt;I&gt;SelectSmart.com/RELIGION&lt;/I&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/CENTER&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;/TABLE&gt;&lt;/CENTER&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-77789934?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77789934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77789934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77789934' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-77762117</id><published>2002-06-14T21:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-14T21:52:07.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What a night and it all took place over IM.  The ex...aka Ryan...and I had an interesting conversation as always.  It concerns me that he really doesn't seem emotionally or socially stable.  After being kicked out of college a year ago he still hangs out on the campus trying to make friends with students.  The friends that he did have are now college graduates and yet he still hangs out on campus hoping to make new friends.  New friends that go to a college that he got kicked out of over a year ago.  He walks around campus and finds women that he is attracted to.  Once he becomes attracted to them he begins to think about them.  He doesn't think it would be strange to just e-mail them even though they have only spoken once.  He claims he is home to earn money to move back out in September, yet he is not working and doesn't plan on it.  I just don't understand why his father isn't worried about his 21 (going on 22) year old son who doesn't see too emotionally sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news I made a big boo boo.  Alex had e-mailed me with news that didn't make me very happy.  I was pms'ing and responded in a not so nice way.  He responded in a not so nice way.  We haven't been able to speak to one another because he is now working from 3-11pm and i work from 7-3:30pm.  This of course will all end after next week.  I do hope he calls me tomorrow.  I really don't want to be the one to call him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;Side note.  My new pet peeve are people who start these journals and then never update them.  Never updating them is fine but at least let us know that you never plan on updating.  Just add a note saying: Hey I started this but I don't really feel like keeping it up.  Thanks for visiting. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-77762117?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77762117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77762117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77762117' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-77534624</id><published>2002-06-09T15:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-09T15:35:51.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had my first run in with Human Resources.  I had reported a fellow co-worker for harrassment.  This co-worker, who happens to be a man in his 20's,  started with me two thursdays ago.  First he came up to the water cooler, that is in front of my desk, and stated "Kristin, you're rude."  I began to ask him questions as to why he thought I was rude and he claims it is because I "look at (him) and don't say hi."  I apologized and thought the issue had been resolved.  About three days later I'm getting out of my car and walking into work when I hear "Kristin, you're rude."  It's this particular co-worker again.  I begin to explain to him that I'm shy and really don't talk to a lot of people.  He continues to walk in in front of me.  The next day he comes up from behind me at work, brushes my hair and says "thats not harrassment."  Then finally on Thursday he comes up to the water cooler again and says "HI KRISTIN."  I begin to say something to him about what I'm working on and he replies with "HELLO KRISTIN."  He then leaves.  It was about this time that I went to my boss and told her about it.  Next thing I know he is being called down to Human Resources and is basically told to knock off the shit or he will be fired.  &lt;br /&gt;In other news...Alex was up this weekend.  He was very playful and cute.  The two of us went up to Blue Mountain Lake and then back to Utica.  By the way, Babes sucks.  We got the worst service.  He is know gone.  Next is my turn to go see him.  We have come to an agreement that we will trade off visits and not go longer than two weeks without seeing one another.  Sounds good to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-77534624?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77534624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77534624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77534624' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-77393229</id><published>2002-06-05T18:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-05T18:37:38.240-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I officially want to kill one of my co-workers.  This would be the temp a.k.a. Dee the 61 year old woman who is retired but is working to support her 35 year old sons 8 children.  Let's just say that he couldn't keep it in his pants.  If this woman comes to me for help one more day I'm going to take out my scissors and pull her heart out.  Enough said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-77393229?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77393229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77393229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77393229' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-77352134</id><published>2002-06-04T20:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-05T18:36:11.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The first Long Island weekend has come to a close.  Friday (on four hours of sleep) I arrived in Plainview around 4:30pm.  Ate momma Leicht's tasty homemade dinner and then Alex and I went out to Jillian's and Borders with the famous Seth (the only friend Alex talks about non-stop).  Saturday we fixed up the bikes and took a quick trip around the neighborhood.  I pointed out that 3 out of 5 house looked just like his.  He replied that most houses on Long Island look the same.  We swung on swings and froliced like children.  Then we went to his friend Stan's house and took a trek on over to the Roosevelt Field mall.  Alex and I got back around 5pm and decided to take the bikes out to the Bethpage State Park.  We rode about 8 miles in one direction until we reached the Surise Highway.  Stopped at Dunkin Doughnuts and then back home.  Got back home around 9pm very hungry.  Stayed up late. Sunday was the graduation party.  Many family members and friends.  I felt overwhelmed.  Left on Monday at 1:45.  Alex will be arriving in the greater Central New York area Friday evening.  I'm tired. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-77352134?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77352134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/77352134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77352134' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-76999799</id><published>2002-05-26T17:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-26T18:16:39.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Alex has graduated and is now back in Plainview.  Phone calls have been difficult.  Many arguments have ensued.  Basically it all revolves around the fact that when he is home he is sad and when he is sad he is not the best person to talk to.  Went to Boston yesterday.  My mom and I walked all of the Freedom Trail.  Word of advice:  If you are ever in Boston and you choose to go to the Bunker Hill monument, take the warning sign more than serious.  When they say "If you have a heart condition or have trouble breathing DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CLIMB THE TOWER." please, DO NOT CLIMB THE TOWER.  Yes, in fact I have climbed all 295 stairs to the top of the Bunker Hill monument and will never do that again.  At the 50th stair I noticed that my heart was beating a little fast.  At the 100th step the muscles in my legs started to cramp up.  At the 150th step I realized that I needed to stop and take a break.  I could have turned around but I had made it half way, I was going to finish.  Many overweight people were attempting the climb.  I'm not sure how many turned back.  There were times where I started to feel cramped and just creaped out.  I felt as if the makers of this monument took some tips from Edgar Allen Poe and decided to just make the stairwell get more narrow as you got to the top.  Then again, this could of all been my mind playing tricks on me.  Kind of like the tricks your mind plays on you when you are going back down.  Easier, yes, but you start to feel as if you are going to miss a step and go falling down all 200 winding stairs.  When I got to the bottom my tired legs were shaking uncontrolably.  Today, lets just say that I'm in a lot of pain.&lt;br /&gt;The Freedom Trail took us about 4.5 hours.  Mom and I then went shopping and had a bite to eat at Quincy Market.&lt;br /&gt;Next weekend will be a trip to Long Island for Alex's graduation party et al.  After a year and 4 months I'll finally get to meet his friends from home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-76999799?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76999799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76999799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_05_01_archive.html#76999799' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-76554821</id><published>2002-05-14T19:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-14T19:51:18.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;h&gt;WORK:&lt;/h&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been extremely slow lately.  Dee (a.k.a. the temp) is still annoying me.  My work is getting too easy and I'm getting bored.  I made the mistake of mentioning to two people (Val and Ed) that I was moving to Long Island.  Val really hasn't said much about it, but Ed (who found out because he was asking questions about Alex and where he was going to Grad School) was mentioning to me a web site where I can find job postings for the Long Island area.  Barb (another co-worker) walked in mid-sentence and now she knows that I'm moving.  I'm not really comfortable with this many people knowing about my plans.  I don't want my boss to find out and I don't want to be embarressed if this doesn't fall through.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;h&gt;WEIGHT:&lt;/h&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized that if I had any major pyschological problems that I would easily become anorexic.  Here I am going through some major changes, and what do I decide to do?  I decide that I'm going to lose weight.  How?  I have no idea.  I run 3 to 4 miles a day and I really don't eat all that much, and still I'm not as thin as I would like to be.  I find that I get like this everytime I get stressed out or when I'm going through "shit".  So far I have cut back on carbs and am now eating fruits and veggies with my sandwich at lunch instead of my usual chex mix.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;h&gt;FUTURE:&lt;/h&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a phone conversation with Alex yesterday a possible career option was brought up.  This is a career that sounds perfect for me and wouldn't involve too much stress in a grad school environment.  It would be perfect for my personality and would also make me happy because then I wouldn't feel bad for spending so much money on college.  Problem, I have to take my GRE to apply, I need 3 recommendations and I'm not sure how the hell I'm going to pay for it.  Oh, well.  I'm hoping that if I apply for the Spring 2003 enrollment that they will waive the 3 recommendations from professors and make it 3 from anyone.  (Seeing as I will a year since I  graduated from undergrad.)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;h&gt;ROMANCE:&lt;/h&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex is talking way too much about marriage.  I never thought I would be the one freaking out.  Last week we got into an argument about weddings and how, I guess, ours should be.  Alex, being from Long Island, seems to think that "everyone" has limos at their weddings and that "everyone" on Long Island has big weddings.  He also states that his family will disown him if he doesn't have a religious ceremony and a huge reception.  The funny part is that he then informed me that it is the bride's parents who pay for the wedding.  I told him that if my parents are paying for our wedding then the ceremony is going to be in my backyard with a reception at the VFW, because that is all my parents can afford.  What can I say?  We aren't Long Island folk.&lt;br /&gt;The whole week after than I was majorly stressed.  Stressed that if his parents have such a strong hold on how he, or should i say we, have a wedding, then what kind of stronghold will they have on the marriage.  My biggest fear was that they would start to interfer with the raising of the children.  Let me re-phrase that.  My biggest fear is that his mother will insist and hound us that our children be baptised catholic, and ever worse that they be raised catholic.  I'm atheist and I don't want my future children to have any religion.  Therefore Catholocism is out of the question.  I brought up these concerns to Alex and he reassured me that he has no plans on raising his children with religion and that I have nothing to worry about.  That makes me feel better.   For the time being.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This upcoming weekend I will have to play family.  Mom, Dad, Jonathan and Kelli Leicht will all be in Binghamton for the big event.  Wish me luck.  His mom is crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-76554821?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76554821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76554821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_05_01_archive.html#76554821' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-76283020</id><published>2002-05-07T20:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-07T20:23:27.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>BTW: Guster was good, but i've realized that I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable around college students.  Especially when most of them are 18 and 19.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-76283020?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76283020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76283020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_05_01_archive.html#76283020' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-76282972</id><published>2002-05-07T20:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-07T20:20:44.826-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been sleeping.  I've also been just...well...emotionally unstable.  I completely lost it on Sunday when I was about to leave Binghamton.  Basically, I wrapped my arms around Alex and began crying because I didn't want to leave.  I didn't want to go home.  And I didn't want to work.  Now I'm sitting in my room because we have family staying with us and we only have four rooms in this tiny house.  My room.  My parents room.  (Bathroom excluded.)  Kitchen and living room are somewhat intertwined.  Everyone is in the livingroom/kitchen, so I sit in my room till it is time for bed.  Sometimes I wonder if this is normal behaviour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex has informed me that his mother knows of someone that is looking for a roomie on Long Island.  My cousin Kim has also expressed interest in possibly moving to Long Island with me.  That would be ideal, but I don't really know if she was serious or just speaking through a dream that will never come true.  Eitherway I figure I have a good amount saved up in my savings, hopefully I will save another $1,000.00 before the move, along with a pretty high credit limit on my credit card.  My mom has been buying household items for me ever since I came back home.  So I think I will be set in that department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dress needs to be bought for the upcoming graduation ceremony as well as the upcoming graduation party.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In a side note.  I've been finding dark haired/eyed men extremly attractive lately.  Which is strange for me because I used to go for the lighter men.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-76282972?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76282972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76282972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_05_01_archive.html#76282972' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-76099318</id><published>2002-05-02T20:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-02T20:13:43.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I haven't had a good night of sleep since sunday.  Monday night I got around 5 hours.  Tuesday night I got around 5 and a half hours.  Last night I got around 5 hours.  It isn't that I'm not tired.  I'm so tired I'm having trouble putting sentences together.  The problem is that I lie in bed and just can't fall asleep.  I've been putting myself in bed around 9ish and don't fall asleep until about 11 or 12.  This would be fine if it were just one night, but when it becomes every night I'm really not catching up to the sleep I lost in nights before.  I know that it all has to do with all this is on my mind lately.  Coupled with the fact that I'm paranoid that I will never get a good night of sleep again.  I lie in bed worrying that it's just going to be another night without sleep.  I've come to the conclusion that my internal clock has just gotten used to 5 hours of sleep.  This is because I fell asleep last night around 11 (an hour earlier than usual) and woke up at 4am.  Hopefully, because I'm not working tomorrow, I will be able to get at least 7hours.  I'm going to need it with my weekend of Spiderman and Guster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been freaking out about my up and coming, most possible, move to Long Island.  This has recently come to my mind because I now am actually faced with the possibility.  Alex is graduating and there will be no more trips to Binghamton.  We will no longer be only 2 hours apart.  Long Island is a good 4.5 hours from me.  We both work and seeing each other every weekend is not going to happen.  I have also mentioned to him that I &lt;b&gt;WILL NOT HAVE A LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP.&lt;/b&gt;  I have never experienced a relationship with someone who lives in the same city as me.  My previous boyfriend went to a different college, and Alex and I started dating my last semester of college.  Basically only three months, of our now over one year relationship, was spent in the same city.  I think I'm ready to have a "real" relationship.  To help myself come to terms with moving I've made a list of the pros and cons of moving to Long Island.  It goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;PROS:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Alex will be there.&lt;br /&gt;2.  My good friends from college live there.&lt;br /&gt;3.  There are more job opportunities.&lt;br /&gt;4.  NYC is only a 35minute train ride and 45minute car ride.&lt;br /&gt;5.  NYC means access to every concert/show that exsists.  Ex: If Radiohead goes on tour again you won't hear me bitch about how no one ever comes to NYC because everyone comes to NYC.&lt;br /&gt;6.  The sun shines 80% of the year.&lt;br /&gt;7.  It rains 20% of the year.&lt;br /&gt;8.  People aren't slow (physically) when it comes to walking, scanning items at the grocery store and most importantly driving.&lt;br /&gt;9.  The odds of finding someone with a confederate flag hanging in their front yard/from their car visor is not likely.&lt;br /&gt;10.  The ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;CONS:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I'll miss my parents and family.  Along with some old friends.&lt;br /&gt;2.  It will be lonely at first when i'm adjusting.&lt;br /&gt;3.  I'll miss hills, open space and trees because Long Island is one big Mall and parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Long Island people will probably end up annoying me as much as Upstate New York People.&lt;br /&gt;5.  I'll be poor. &lt;br /&gt;6.  There is a high rate of breast cancer on Long Island.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-76099318?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76099318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/76099318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_05_01_archive.html#76099318' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-75979479</id><published>2002-04-29T19:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-29T19:01:56.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thursday night, like most nights before I go to Binghamton, I got around 4 to 5 hours of sleep.  Friday, went to bed that night around 2am.  Got up at 9am.  Spent from 1 pm to 3pm at the Binghamton University Spring Fling.  3pm to 6:15 pm at WHRW where Alex was helping his friend edit an interview he had done with Star Sailor.  6:30 to 7pm saw Star Sailor for Free outside of the West Gym at Binghamton University.  Star Sailor was making an appearance as apart of MTV's Campus Invasion.  They played for free outside while the moronic masses waited in lines to pay for music that wasn't even close to the superior quality of Star Sailor (hmm hmm..hint hint Nickelback, Default and Injected.).  Then my somewhat gentle composure turned into uber bitch.  Alex's friend Andrew Teller set me off by defending the middle aged people that were waiting in a long line to get their merchandise signed by Star Sailor.  Thus, I got bitchy and got in a fight with Alex.  We then made up and he went back to WHRW to perform an acoustic set for marathon closer.  He got back around 12:30am and we ended up getting into some heavy conversation until 5am.  Went to sleep woke up around 12N.   &lt;br /&gt;Let me just sum this weekend up in one sentence.  &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'M FUCKING TIRED.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next weekend should be just as fun.  Spiderman on friday night (yes I already bought my tickets.  It's Tobey's first movie since Wonder Boys and he is topless) and Guster on Saturday night.  Feels like another sleepless weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update on the future plans:  Looks as if Alex is pretty set on going to C W Post for grad school.  It also seems that Alex is pretty set on the thought that I am the woman for him and that one day we are going to get married.  This means that we are both set on my moving to Long Island sometime around August/September.  It's funny how you can be so confident about something when you don't actually have to deal with it.  Moving to Long Island reminds me of going away to college for the first time.  I'm excited and fearful at the same time.  I just hope I don't have as hard of an adjustment as college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-75979479?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75979479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75979479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75979479' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-75765582</id><published>2002-04-24T09:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-24T09:00:58.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I called in sick this morning.  I wonder if I will ever shake the guilt I feel when I do such a thing.  Ever since grade school I have felt guilty for not being where I'm supposed to be.  Even if I were on my death bed I would still feel bad about calling in.  Now I'm feeling bad for not being productive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-75765582?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75765582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75765582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75765582' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-75747286</id><published>2002-04-23T20:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-23T20:27:14.793-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't wait to tell my collegues about my trip to the farm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-75747286?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75747286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75747286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75747286' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-75747110</id><published>2002-04-23T20:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-23T20:26:49.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm calling in sick tomorrow for two reasons, 1.  I'm on the verge of collapsing from being tired.  2.  I really want my collegues to struggle when they have to deal with my not being there tomorrow.  I'd hate to see how they get work done when the one person who does the work has called in sick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex called me all excited because &lt;a href="http://www.johnmayer.com"&gt;John Mayer&lt;/a&gt; is playing Central Park on July 19th.   I then informed him that his cousin's wedding is on July 19th.  Now he is getting this crazy idea to drive all the way to Boston for the July 17th show.  He even asked me to go to the Boston show which I had to inform him that I had to work.  He then told me to "live a little" and drive to Boston after work.  Someone, that would be Alex, had no idea that Boston is a good five hours from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm relaxing and preparing my day off.  Washing clothes, washing the car and getting an oil change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-75747110?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75747110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75747110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75747110' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-75705975</id><published>2002-04-22T19:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-22T19:46:25.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Alex got accepted to &lt;a href="http://www.cwpost.liu.edu/cwis/cwp/"&gt;C W Post&lt;/a&gt;.  He also got accepted to Binghamton University.  Now all he is waiting for is Hofstra.  I've got this feeling that he will most likely be going to grad school on Long Island.  The weekend went by wicked fast as usual.  Friday night Alex and I went for Subs at the Vestal Plaza and, because it was so warm out, sat outside and enjoyed some deep conversation.  I then talked him into walking around campus where we ended up in CIW.  Saturday we awoke around 1pm and didn't get our asses out of the apartment until 7pm.  IHOP for dinner and then mini-golf in 40 degree weather.  The next morning I woke up not feeling so well.  Hmmmm.......could it be that I was playing mini-golf in 40 degree weather?  Got advanced tickets for Spiderman and then went to a tiny carnival at Hillside Apartmen community.  Ran into Cara, my Junior second semester roommate, who acted as if she couldn't remember who I was.  Its not like we didn't live together for four months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is work.  Being that I am the only one who actually works I'm getting it up the ass.  My bosses assistant says that she is going to talk to her (my boss) about the fact that two of my co-workers seem to be slacking because they know that I will pick up anything that they can't seem to finish.  I've also volunteered to take another co-worker to and from work until around wednesday.  Nice lady, but it is really ackward being that she is a born again christian.  I have a feeling that she's not going to take my listening to Howard Stern to well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MTV Campus Invasion next weekend.  Nickelback (Sux) and Default (who?).  The free show is for StarSailor.  This will be the only band Alex and myself will be seeing.  Then there is the &lt;a href="http://whrwfm.org"&gt;WHRW&lt;/a&gt; 24 hour marathon.  Basically, I'm going to be really bored next Saturday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-75705975?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75705975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75705975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75705975' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-75442749</id><published>2002-04-15T20:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-15T20:22:25.493-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Friday night (Binghamton University) Alex had a friend of his, and fellow t.a., Rob over to grade some tests.  When Rob went back to his car he found out that his battery was dead.  So Alex volunteered to use his car to jump Rob's car.  When Alex tried to start his car he found out that his car was also dead.  Then I stepped in.  When we went outside the car that was parked next to Rob's car was also dead and was getting a jump from a friend of theirs.  So, they jumped Rob's car and I jumped Alex's car.  Wheeeeeeew....can you follow that?  Also on friday, my eye was going butt ass crazy and I spent the whole weekend wearing glasses.  I was so concerned that I actually made an emergency trip to the eye doctor and got out of work early.  Come to find out all it was was a micorscopic piece of lint that the doctor just scrubbed out.  That cost me $27.00.  Then when I got home we had a messege on the answering machine informing me that I had won a trip for two to the Bahamas.  This is for real.  I filled out a card jus for fun when I was in Long Island last summer.  Well, I guess I won.  Oh, and I finally got my period.  Guess I can stop freaking out about unwanted pregnancies and all.  In the words of Alex:  "Don't you go and get pregnant on me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-75442749?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75442749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75442749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75442749' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-75181591</id><published>2002-04-08T19:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-08T19:21:48.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here I go again (on my own...sorry I had to).  Basically I saw Kids in the Hall in Syracuse.  I said something about how it was great but nothing can recreate the feelings of the fist time I saw them.  I talked about my having really bad PMS which caused a huge fight between Alex and myself.  So bad that I was actually considering breaking up with him.  Then I went out to Binghamton for the weekend and had a great time.  Things are now great between us.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can say the same thing about my body.  I was supposed to get my period two weeks ago, but the Provera (progesterone) that I was taking has fucked up my body and now I don't know when I'm going to get it.  I feel like I have my period, cramps and all, but I don't have my period.  No I'm not pregnant.  But I am going throught those crazy high school virgin thoughts that I used to  have.  The kind where I wondered if it was possible to get pregnant without having sex because I had missed my period.  I think some girls know what I'm talking about.  Hey, it could be the next immaculate conception.  Then I start to get paranoid about the times that Alex and I have fooled around and semen has been expelled and wonder if maybe a little particle of it got anywhere near my vagina.  Then I wonder if it's possible to get pregnant through one's belly button.  Sorry to gross anyone out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-75181591?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75181591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75181591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75181591' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-75181344</id><published>2002-04-08T19:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-08T19:14:27.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think anyone who does some sort of on-line journal can feel my pain when I say "I fucking spent a lot of time writing a detailed description of what I've been up to, and then the whole thing disappeared."   fuck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-75181344?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75181344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/75181344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75181344' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-11080655</id><published>2002-03-24T20:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-24T20:12:25.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm back and ready for the Oscars (Tobey Maguire is presenting!!!).  Saw 40 Days and 40 Nights per Alex's request.  The only good part of the movie was Josh Hartnett.  Alex made a big boo-boo this weekend.  We got to talking about body image and he stated that he was impressed as to how hard I work at keeping my figure.  He claims that you can "tell by looking at me that I could be fat if I ate a lot and didn't exercise, but seeing as I watch myself its all good."  He then mentioned that I had wide hips.   Can I say I want to slap you.  Now I'm totally freaking out about my weight.  I've recently sworn off all sweets and sugar drinks.  It doesn't help that my hormones are going crazy and that I have been spotting now for about a month.  There is one part of myself that I'm totally insecure and that would be my body.  Fuck it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-11080655?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/11080655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/11080655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#11080655' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10877384</id><published>2002-03-18T19:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-18T19:42:09.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Guess who is going to Binghamton next weekend?  Yep, that would be me.  Alex chose me over Long Island.  Yipee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10877384?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10877384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10877384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10877384' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10834255</id><published>2002-03-17T16:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-17T16:40:05.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been in the pissiest mood this weekend.  I have a feeling that the provera (progesteron) that I was on two weeks ago is really starting to fuck with my hormones.  I took provera for the first five days of my period (making it incredibly light) and two days after my period ended I got my period again.  The second period ended after seven days and now, five days later, I have symptons of PMS and light spotting.  I really wish I knew what the fuck is going on.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't help that this is the first weekend in a while that Alex and I have been apart.  He said that he "might" call me friday night, but he went to see a showing of Oceans Eleven at the University Union instead.  Then I tried calling him Saturday Evening but he was at Wal-Mart.  I eventually got him and I was just in a bitchy mood.  He told me that he "might" stay on campus next weekend so that we can spend time together before Spring Break.  This of course may have changed seeing as his parents called him this morning (they call every Sunday at noon).  I just know that his mother whined and told him that he has to go home on Friday.  What the fuck is the difference between seeing him on Friday or Monday?  I just know that I'm going to have problems with this woman.&lt;br /&gt;Then last night I had a ton of fucked up dreams.  Most of them revolved around Alex and I having sex and me yelling at my mom for not treating me like an adult.  I woke up is such a state that I was literally dizzy and had to lay down for a spell.&lt;br /&gt;To top off a rather depressing weekend, I went to the mall with all intentions of buying a bra but (like always) there is this conspiracy against women with the bra size 34C.  Any bra that was half way decent was either an A or B cup.  This trend is really starting to piss me off.  I think I may go into the business of selling clothing.  All of the clothes in my store will be the following:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Shirts sizes M and L.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Pants size 9/10&lt;br /&gt;3.  Bras 34C&lt;br /&gt;4.  Shoes 9 and 9wide.&lt;br /&gt;And that is all I will sell.  Fuck all you girls who are either smaller or bigger than this.  I really hate being the average size for everything.  They never have my size.  God Damn you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10834255?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10834255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10834255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10834255' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10807627</id><published>2002-03-16T18:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-16T18:30:16.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today my parents and I drove to Saratoga to visit our favorite Borders Bookstore.  While we were gone I left my im on.  I came home to find a messege from my ex.  Two nights ago I was chatting with him and, when I asked him about his lack of employment, he basically blew me off and stopped chatting with me.  At that time I made no big deal about it and just signed off and went to bed, but when I got back today I saw that he left a messege for me stating that he was "sorry for ignoring you after you asked about my employment status.  It was childish."  Whatever.  I really didn't care all that much.  I have this feeling that he has been lying to me about alot of things.  For example, he is supposedly giving a moderation concert at Bard College even though they kicked him out.  Then he informend me that he was going to SUNY New Paltz but left because it "just wasn't working out."  Now he is looking to move back to the Bard area until this summer, and that he is quite content not knowing what the hell he is doing with his life.  Honestly, does he think that I'm gulible enough to believe that shit.&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Alex and I are having our first weekend apart in a while.  He has to Study for a big exam on Monday.  Thursday night he called and chatted for about twenty minutes.  He told me that he would try to call friday, but that he might not call so to not get my hopes up.  Well, he didn't call and I just went to bed early.  Currently I've been trying to call him for the past 60.5 minutes and I've gotten nowhere.  The library closes at 6pm and he is supposedly supposed to be studying.  I just miss him so much and when I have nothing to occupy my mind I end up looking for Weezer multi-media to feed my Rivers Cuomo obsession.  Tomorrow he has to ask his parents if he can stay at school next weekend so that I can see him before Spring Break.  My question is, why does a 21 year old man have to ask his parents permission to do anything?  Why the hell do I keep dating men that have to take orders from their parents.  Fuck his mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10807627?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10807627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10807627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10807627' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10673346</id><published>2002-03-12T19:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-12T19:46:50.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here's a question...Should I, if the train ticket is paid for, go to Long Island for a Friday night, Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10673346?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10673346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10673346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10673346' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10672802</id><published>2002-03-12T19:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-12T19:33:13.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So the weekend has past and who knows when I will see Alex next.  This upcoming weekend is mid-terms weekend.  The weekend after that marks the beginning of spring break at Binghamton University, and the weekend after that is the Kids in the Hall/Easter weekend.  This past weekend also marked Alex and mine first official fight.  Yes, we have been together for over a year and have only had this one fight.  Of course, like all fights, it was over something silly.  The morning after Jeremy heard us talking  and called Alex's room to ask if I was allowing him to "come out of confinement."  Then, a major surprise to me, Kathy informed us that she "heard" Alex and I last weekend.  This being in response to everyone always teasing her and Tom about their sex life.  (See there is this on going joke that when Kathy and Tom go to bed that they are "sleeping" and not actually sleeping.  So, Kathy wanted to know why no one ever teased Alex and I about it.)  Basically, Kathy informed everyone in the apartment that she heard Alex and I having sex.  Should I be embaressed?  Especially seeing as we aren't having sex.  We are "pleasing" one another, but not having sex.  Alex and I also had a deep discussion about where we will be in a few months.  He is in the process of choosing a grad school and this will determine where I will be living.  So far it sounds like I'll be on Long Island.  He also informed me that he sees us together in his future and hopefully will always be together.  This makes me feel so much more secure in our relationship.  Love is a strong emotion and I think after a year I can safetly say that I am in Love with Alexander Leicht.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10672802?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10672802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10672802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10672802' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10344901</id><published>2002-03-03T19:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-03T19:30:38.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I went to Binghamton for the weeked and for the second time attened a "real" college party.  (Not, counting club activity.)  This party was hosted by one of Alex's roommate's ex-girlfriends.  She had recently moved off campus into an apartment and wanted to have a party.  When we arrived I was shocked to find that I was one of five women in an apartment filled with around twenty men.  Seeing as most men go to parties to hit on chicks, and seeing that I was probably the only chick in the room that was not fat and somewhat attractive, I was feeling rather uncomfortable.  There were two rather entertaining drunk/stoned fat, balding with pony tailed, jewish guys who kept yelling about being men and filled with testoterone.  One of these men looked strangely like the tall guy from Penn and Teller.  Eventually after an hour and a half we left.  The next night was a supposed trip to Turning Stone Casino, but seeing as the men in charge didn't leave until 8:30pm, Alex and I decided not to go and played trivial pursuit instead.  I won, as always :-) .  Now I'm suffering from a terrible upset stomache.  Ouch.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10344901?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10344901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10344901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10344901' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10125664</id><published>2002-02-25T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-25T21:13:22.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>KrstnBnl: i'm always hot and i have trouble sleeping&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: other than that, things are pretty normal&lt;br /&gt;alex***: i know you are always hot :-)&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: flattery will get you everywhere&lt;br /&gt;alex***: especially with women&lt;br /&gt;alex***: it's surprising that your the first one to take my bait tho&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: actually, it depends on who is flattering me&lt;br /&gt;alex***: however it was worth the wait&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: that deserves a kiss :-*&lt;br /&gt;alex***: gladly received&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10125664?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10125664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10125664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#10125664' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10053391</id><published>2002-02-23T20:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-23T20:41:16.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The are my new sneakers,&lt;a href="http://www.newbalance.com/productbrowser/product_details.html?g11n.enc=ISO-8859-1&amp;feature=&amp;gender=Women&amp;segment=&amp;product=W715GB&amp;product_type=shoe&amp;sport=Running"&gt;New Balance&lt;/a&gt;, and I spent a hell of a lot of money for them.  $80.00 plus tax.  They better be the best damn running shoes ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10053391?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10053391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10053391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#10053391' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-10017616</id><published>2002-02-22T17:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-22T17:21:35.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was drug testing day.  Following the directions clearly on the Fleet form, I made sure to drink plenty of water so that I would have an &lt;B&gt;ADEQUATE AMOUNT OF URINE&lt;/b&gt;.  What I didn't plan on was the sudden urge to shit about fifeteen minutes before I left work to go for the test.  So I had to go, and going pooh means going pee.  The two just go together.  Therefore, when I got back to the office I made sure to fill my water bottle up and drink three times more than before.  Well, on my way to the testing facility I had to go poo poo.  Not solid pooh, but water based pooh.  So here I am driving around New Hartford looking for Centrex and having to go both number one and number two.  Once I find the place and I fill out the proper paper work, I go into the bathroom and pee in a cup.  The cup overfloweth.  I got urine on my hand, and I also let out the worst case of diarrhea ever known to me.  Just as I began to wipe I noticed the sign on the dooor stating :Do not flush toilet.  What?  What a nightmare.  So I come  out and sign my urine filled bottle and left for the public restroom in the hall.  I was in there for about twenty minutes.  Peeing and pooping.  Got into my car and got only ten minutes down the road when I had to go pee again.  I'm driving down Gennesee Street, cutting off seniors and running red lights.  My bladder hurt really bad.  I stopped at a gas station to pee and they had no public restrooms.  I got back in my car and drove 70mph down 5s.  Basically, I got home before i wet myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-10017616?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10017616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/10017616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#10017616' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9982715</id><published>2002-02-21T20:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-21T20:03:05.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here's a funny.  At work yesterday I had taken off the ring that Alex gave me for Valentine's Day.  I was putting on hand lotion just as the woman seated in front of me turned to ask me a question.  She had this look of amazement on her face and I thought she was questioning what I was putting on my hands, so I told her that it was "just hand lotion".  She responded by saying; "Did you get engaged?!!".  I quickly responded with a stunned "NO, NO.  It isn't a real diamond."  Hmm...I knew it was a nice ring but I had no idea it looked like an engagement ring.&lt;br /&gt;My family has finally left and now the turmoil begins.  My parents found out that $10,000.00 was taken out of my, now deceased, grandmother's bank account on the day that she died.  My dad had told my aunt and she left an angry messege on my uncles answering machine.  This would be the uncle that has access to that account.  Well, my uncle called my dad tonight all worked up because he actually had a good reason as to why the money is missing.  As I type my parents are at his house trying to make peace.  It appears that the anger and bitterness that exsisted while my grandparents were alive is still here after their death.&lt;br /&gt;As for my good news, turns out it is better than good.  Yet, I still don't want to give away the delicious info.  All I have to say is i'm the queen of ticket purchasing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9982715?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9982715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9982715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9982715' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9943048</id><published>2002-02-20T20:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-20T20:25:59.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have some sweet news but I don't want to jinx anything if it doesn't fall through.  All I have to say is that I'm spending far too much of my money on rock concerts and the like.  To think, I thought that once I graduated from college my going from one city to the next to see my favorite entertainers would end.  I'll keep you posted.  I should know the results by this time tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Update:  Family is still here.  I think it is about time they left.  Nothing sucks more than everyone else in this house (my parents, aunts and cousin) having time off from work and school, and I come home after eight hours to see them just hanging out.  When I get up they are all still sleeping and I have to be extra quiet and eat in my room because people are sleeping on the couch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9943048?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9943048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9943048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9943048' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9941718</id><published>2002-02-20T19:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-20T19:45:30.090-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.weezer.com/karlscorner/120300RC.jpg"&gt;Storytime with Rivers Cuomo.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9941718?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9941718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9941718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9941718' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9899995</id><published>2002-02-19T18:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-19T18:47:24.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok, now I'm really fucking pissed.  I had just posted and published a really fucking long post about how pissed I am that my parents still treat me like a child, and now it no longer exsist thanks to my outlook express and those damn pop up adds from hotmail.  Basically I've been a good girl all weekend doing what is expected of a non-grieving grandchild to a now dead grandmother that had nothing to do with me while she was alive.  Now my dad is telling me that I have to go to a six year olds birthday party on a work night after I have worked for eight hours today.  This isn't going to happend.  I could say more but I put all of my heart and soul into the other post and just can't muster up anymore anger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9899995?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9899995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9899995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9899995' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9659732</id><published>2002-02-12T18:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-12T18:47:20.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This past weekend was Alex and mine one year anniversary.  It began with him forgetting the date.  This is understandable.  Our relationship didn't really begin with the purpose of having a long term thing.  Basically, we began dating because we were both single and were looking for someone to spend our time.  (i.e. We were both on the rebound.)  Either way, it has been a year and we have become closer than I could ever imagine.   We spent Friday night talking till 5am.  We talked about things we just never had the nerve to ask one another before.  Awaking at 1pm we dressed and jumped in his car for our trip to Wilkes-Barre, PA for the Weezer concert.  Funny enough we ate dinner that Saturday night at Applebees, and our first date was Saturday February 10 at Applebees in Binghamton.  This wasn't intentional, it just happened that way.  For the first time Alex mentioned the hypothetical idea of marriage between he and I.  He fears that if we ever did get married his mother would never accept a marriage that didn't take place in some form of religious ceremony.  The ride home was spent with Alex's usual tales of his darker past and his sudden reawakening.  Which he often credits me for.  I love the fact that Alex cares for me in a way no one has ever done before.  He is the most honest person I have ever met.  This weekend will be spent in Binghamton.  Who knows what the future will hold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9659732?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9659732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9659732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9659732' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9628626</id><published>2002-02-11T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-11T21:25:13.090-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok, let me sum up the fact that teenage Weezer fans are the most annoying people on the planet.  Alex and I were probably two of the only 50 people there above the age of 19.  Most of the male fans were wearing surfboard pants, sweater vests, messy brown hair and black rimmed glasses.  Basically they were trying their damned hardest to look like Rivers Cuomo.  The girls were all decked out in their Weezer t's and face paint.  The opening acts sucked, but it appeared that Alex and I were the only ones who realized that.  Most of the kids were on the floor moshing and crowd surfing.  We were being old and had actual seats.  The best part is that Rivers Cuomo has recently grown a beard and has since stopped wearing glasses.  So all of those teenage boys that showed up looking like Rivers circa 1996 got quite a surprise.  That's why it's no shocker that they are all bitching on the messege boards that he needs to shave.  I think this is Rivers way of preventing look alikes.  He knows that most of the males that dress like him are between the ages of 14 and 19 and have no ability to grow that much facial hair.&lt;br /&gt;Overall I give their musical performance an A+ and their enthusiasm for being there an F.  Too many new songs and only an hour of Weezer.  They took the stage at 10pm and left promptly at 11pm.  It was the worst ending to a concert ever.  Basically they just put down their instruments and left the stage.  Show over.  Good experience but I would never pay that much for one hour of music again.  Don't get me wrong.  I still love Weezer, but probably won't be seeing them in concert again.&lt;br /&gt;As for the love department.  Well, there is too much to say and I'm tired.  So I'll fill that area in tomorrow.  Maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9628626?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9628626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9628626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9628626' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9460803</id><published>2002-02-06T21:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-06T21:17:32.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>should i?  &lt;a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/aw-cgi/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&amp;item=1071131803"&gt;eBay item 1071131803 (Ends Feb-11-02 15:31:39 PST ) - Weezer Rivers Cuomo pins buttons 7 lot picpac&lt;/a&gt;  I like the Rivers Girl pin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9460803?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9460803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9460803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9460803' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9456830</id><published>2002-02-06T19:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-06T19:14:59.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm feeling very hostile this evening.  My wrists hurt like sons of bitches and I could have killed one of my co-workers today.  I spent the whole day trying to tune her out by listening to John Mayer, Ben Folds, the entire Weezer library (which you can do in under two hours) and Smashing Pumpkins.  Then I got home to find that Alex had replied to an e-mail I wrote him in a manner that I wasn't expecting.  This weekend is the one year anniversery of our first date, so I sent him an e-mail saying "Do you know what this weekend is?" and he replied "I sure do."  I sure  do!?  What the hell is that?  He thinks I meant that this weekend is the Weezer concert, thus showing that he has no idea that this weekend is the anniversery.  Then I see him on im right before I had to go out to the store and although I had my away messege up he doesn't send me anything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For anyone who was wondering.  Mr Alexander Leicht was indeed lost on Saturday afternoon.  A ride that usually takes me two hours and 15 minutes, took Alex around 4.  At about quarter to two he called me from a payphone about two miles from me.  I had to drive down to a gas station and lead him to my house.  All is well.  He was not dead in a ditch, but I get this sinking suspicion that he won't be making that trip again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9456830?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9456830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9456830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9456830' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9304341</id><published>2002-02-02T12:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-02T12:08:43.120-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Check out these pics. &lt;a href="http://www.weezer.com/karlscorner/20020201rec03.jpg"&gt;Rivers at the mixing board&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.weezer.com/karlscorner/20020128rec03.jpg"&gt; Rivers outside the men's room&lt;/a&gt;  It seems that my Rivers has decided to go for the scruffy look.  Obviously, me being a woman who loves the scruff, I have no problem with Rivers going scruffy.  Just as long as he doesn't grow his hair long again.  Alex really needs to get here soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9304341?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9304341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9304341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9304341' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9302935</id><published>2002-02-02T10:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-02T10:59:23.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I forgot to mention.  I'm getting great joy out of seeing the amount of people who come to this site due to a link from google.  People put a search in for "Alice Childress" and end up at my site.  Hello visitors from Google.  Yes I am a Ben Folds Five fan.  I'm assuming you are too.  Sorry that there is nothing about Ben here.  Enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9302935?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9302935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9302935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9302935' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9302895</id><published>2002-02-02T10:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-02T10:57:23.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh what a week it has been.  A thursday snow storm/freezing rain.  The roads in downtown Utica were not plowed and my little Toyota Corolla was slippin' and slidin'.  Then on Friday morning the icy roads left over from the freezing rain the night before meant leaving 15 minutes early.  My father has the flu and I'm starting to show symptons.  I called Alex before I went to the dentist this morning and he informed me that he was thinking of not coming up.  He felt it was snowing too hard.  By the time I left for the dentist he hadn't called me back to let me know if he was coming.&lt;br /&gt;The dentist almost had an orgasm over my teeth.  (I'm seeing someone new now.)  He wanted to know if I had "orthodontics" and if so who was the orthodontist.  I informed him it was Furino and he replied "I had a feeling it was him.  This looks like his craft work."  The guys spoke of my teeth like they were a sculpture.  Then he went on to praise Furino for  the allignment of the teeth and how they "fell together".  He finally closed the cleaning by congratulating me on my oral hygene and said he looked forward to many more cleanings.  When I went up to pay for the appointment his secretary opened my file and proclaimed loudly "NO CAVITIES.  YOU GO!"  These people really need to get away from teeth.&lt;br /&gt;Got home and Alex informed me that he was in fact coming and was leaving at that moment.  This made me very happy.  I went to great lengths to get my pals together to meet the man.  Although Alex and I have been together for a year he has yet to meet my buds from home.  The plan is bowling at 8pm.  Funny thing, not only are Jodi and Shelly going, but I ran into an old friend from high school yesterday and invited him to go with us.  This should turn out to be an intersting weekend.  I'm thinking of bringing the digital camera and putting them up on my site.  Hopefully, Alex won't get the flu and our Weezer weekend will rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW:  My Rivers Cuomo obsession is getting worse.  I find myself spending many hours on the web d/l'ing Rivers interviews (audio/video).  Last night I watched the video for "Photograph".  I also read a disturbing interview where he mentions that he has had sex with over thirty women.  God Damn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9302895?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9302895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9302895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9302895' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9139793</id><published>2002-01-28T19:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-02T12:00:56.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I have added the new pic of Alex and myself to the photo album page.  I must give credit to Chris Biscuiti at &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/radiobiscuit/photo.html"&gt;The Counterfeit Pennies Radio Show: Photo Gallery&lt;/a&gt; for the picture.  I didn't quite ask him for it, but i've given him credit in every possible location.  Yesterday afternoon I sprained my good ankle running.  I'm now sitting around gaining weight and feeling my muscles get flabby.  I haven't had a good week of running since December.  My back and eyes are killing me.  &lt;br /&gt;There isn't anything I hate more than when you write a deep heartfelt e-mail to the man you love, and while your opening your e-mail with enthusiasm for how he responded all he writes is "cheer up.  I got a new game controller today.  Classes start tomorrow.  Love Alex."  What the fuck is that about?  Men just don't know how to talk to women when we have one of those "i hate everything about my life" days.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of yesterday, I was taking a shower to find that I had forgot to take a tampon out that had been in for over 24 hours.  I was wondering why my period had only lasted four days.  I'm lucky that nothing serious had happened.  Then there is the shower problem.  It seems that in my house we run out of hot water within five minutes into the shower.  This can be a problem.  Especially when you haven't even washed the conditioner out of your hair and still need to wash your feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and i'm beginning to become increasingly concerned over my attraction to Rivers Cuomo of Weezer (see 1/26/2002 entry).  I find that i have been frequenting Weezer sites just to get a glimpse of Rivers.  I'm sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9139793?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9139793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9139793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#9139793' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9105850</id><published>2002-01-27T20:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-27T20:23:31.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Back in October Alex dragged me along to the &lt;a href="http://www.whrwfm.org"&gt;WHRW Binghamton &lt;/a&gt;halloween Party.  His friend Chris took a very nice picture of us and said that he would get them up on his web site.  Well, three months later he finally did it.  Here they are at &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/radiobiscuit/photo.html"&gt;The Counterfeit Pennies Radio Show: Photo Gallery&lt;/a&gt;.  Sqeezable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9105850?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9105850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9105850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#9105850' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9079876</id><published>2002-01-26T21:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-26T21:28:41.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How snuggly cute is Rivers in this photo at &lt;a href="http://gallery.cuomodreamland.com/aprivers2.jpg"&gt;Cuomo Dream Land&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;By the way, the thought that the guys from O-Town have the ability to choose who will get a record deal is scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9079876?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9079876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9079876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#9079876' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9057004</id><published>2002-01-25T23:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-25T23:02:53.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is a good example of the things Ryan and I would argue about (all the time) while we were dating.  Ryan hates to admit that there are difference between the sexes.  You have to forgive him.  He went to Bard College (a school from which I escaped) and had been brain washed into thinking that all people are the same and our gender does not form who you are.  This has been edited to make me look better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: all men are horny&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: alex asked me if i was horny (when i was on li last weekend), i told him yes and he told me that he is horny all the time.  it must suck to be a man.&lt;br /&gt;TheIMJesus: you are generalization woamn&lt;br /&gt;TheIMJesus: woman rather&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: huh?&lt;br /&gt;TheIMJesus: you like to make broad generalizations about the sexes&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: because they are fact&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: you just don't like to accept it&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: men have testoterone&lt;br /&gt;TheIMJesus: haha, your opinions may be wrong you know&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: when women have an increased sex drive (ovulation) they have a surge of hormones in their bodies&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: the same thing happens during menstruation&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: that is why woman are also more horny at that time&lt;br /&gt;TheIMJesus: so?&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: so i'm basing my facts on biology and all of the women i have ever been friends with&lt;br /&gt;KrstnBnl: and women talk about things with one another that they don't say to men&lt;br /&gt;TheIMJesus: anyway, I have learned to avoid making generalizations&lt;br /&gt;TheIMJesus: no, currently&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this I realized why I was happy I was no longer with him.  My blood is boiling.  I want to take my fist through the computer screen and strangle him.  Thank god Alex accepts that there are difference because of gender.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9057004?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9057004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9057004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#9057004' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9055569</id><published>2002-01-25T22:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-25T22:01:38.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It appears that my Long Island Lover (Alex) has decided to go one step crazier and travel to NYC for a John Mayer concert Feb 23.  He wants me to go with him.  That will make it two concerts for the month of February.  According to the ticketmaster site tickets are still available but it will not let me order them.  I think i'll just head on down to Mr C's tomorrow morning.  So let's recap the month of February:  2-3 Alex visits me / 8-10 Me in Binghamton and going to a Weezer concert/ 15-18 Three day weekend in binghamton for a valentines day extravaganza/ and 22-24 Binghamton to Long Island to NYC to Long Island to Binghamton to Home.  That is of course if I get those John Mayer tickets.  Hmmm....I hope so.&lt;br /&gt;Stefanie, you shouldn't check my site after 9pm through 4pm the next day.  If it's a weekday i'm at work and we only have intranet access not internet access.  So therefore I only update when I'm not at work.  (I was checking my site meter.)  Right now I'm talking to the ex over im.  He left a messege for me about John Mayer.  He wanted me to suggest some songs.  Then he went into his usual constant talking of sex and music.  His wanting to know what I have or haven't done with Alex.  ECT. ECT.  I honestly don't want him to know about that part of my life.  Of course, he never hesitates to tell me about his sex life, or should I say lacking sex life.  &lt;br /&gt;Ok, it is 9:56pm and I am ready for bed.  This is what you get when you get up everyday at 5:30am.  I want to get up early and take my car to the car wash and then head on over to Mr.C's.  Then maybe off to the mall to buy some groovy clothes with my h&amp;m gift certificate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote of the day:  (over weight woman waddles down hallway of Fleet on her way to have a cigarette.  speaks to another over weight woman.)   I don't care.  All I know is that I don't really want to look like an AIDS patient.  I like how I look.  I'm plump and healthy.&lt;br /&gt;(Translation:  I'm over weight and hate myself for it.  The only way I can look in the mirror in the morning is to tell myself that skinny people look sick and like they are dying of AIDS.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9055569?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9055569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9055569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#9055569' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-9013899</id><published>2002-01-24T16:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-24T16:26:51.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The weekend on Long Island was great but uneventful.  A winter storm kept us home bound and with little to do.  Alex and I ended up playing two full games of trivial pursuit and a trivia game about the United States.  I have found that when we play trivia games we get rather competative with a side of sexual tension.  Of course I won all three games :-) .  Eventhough we didn't really do much I had a great time just hanging out and watching Dead Poets Society (a movie Alex has never seen).  I thanked his parents often for their hospitality and for putting me up for three nights.  Yet, Alex's mom later revealed that she was hurt that I didn't thank her for letting me stay for the weekend the day that I left.  After a tearful phone call between myself and alex, I drove to the store and bought the most expensive thank you card I could find.  Hopefully this will ease the recent tension that has developed between us.  (Oh, and I touched the Penis!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-9013899?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9013899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/9013899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#9013899' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8759516</id><published>2002-01-16T17:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-16T17:15:57.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I owe $19,592.64 is student loans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8759516?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8759516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8759516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8759516' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8729925</id><published>2002-01-15T19:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-15T19:58:19.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was offered a full time position at Fleet today.  I filled out my application and am going to hand it in tomorrow morning.  Finally a job with security and benefits.  It's been fun being a temp.  It appears that I'm going to be taking a train to Long Island.  I'll be leaving on Friday morning and coming back Monday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;This evening I purposely ate fast so that I could be back home at 7pm to watch a CBC special on Barenaked Ladies.  Come to find out our CBC station shows Frasier and Drew Carey at that time.  So I have to wait till this weekend to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW:  I was introduced to John Mayer this weekend.  I highly recommend him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8729925?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8729925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8729925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8729925' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8696191</id><published>2002-01-14T20:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-14T20:00:24.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hmmm...Where to start?  Well, the weekend started out great.  Friday night Alex, Jeremy (one of his apartmentmates) and I went bowling and then to Applebees.  On the way to Applebees Alex, taking a left turn onto a four lane road with a divider in the center, accidentally turned into the oncoming lane instead of the one going in the direction that we were supposed to go in.  Luckily no cars were coming.  &lt;br /&gt;Saturday Alex and I went to the Carousel Mall in Syracuse.  We visited Stef and ate Pizza.  The drive was definately the best part of the trip.  We had a chance to bond and talk about our relationship.  He confessed to me that he thinks I should move to Long Island this summer.  Something that pleased me greatly.  &lt;br /&gt;Sunday we went the WHWR (Binghamton University Radio) so that Alex could burn some cd's.  My plan was to leave Binghamton around 6ish so that I could be home by 8.  Well, Alex got so wrapped up in the burning process that we didn't get back until 5:30 which means that he felt we had to rush.  This, which we have spoke of in the past, mad me quite mad.  He apologized and I forgave him.  I left and began my two hour trip home.&lt;br /&gt;Things began to go wrong when a road block kept me from continuing north on rt. 8.  Almost getting lost I freaked out and began to cry, but then find my way back to 8.  Traveled for about another hour and then was about 15 minutes from home when my car spun out of control and ended up front end first in a snow ditch.  Stuck in the snow, I ran to a nearby home and asked for asistance.  Luckily, the residents of this house were mechanics and pulled my car out with a John Deere tractor.  Once back on the road I was a bit shaken.  My parents already knew about the accident, I had called them from my cell phone, and were all worked up when I got home.  When I brought up the idea of driving to Long Island next weekend they forcefully said "NO" and now I'm taking a train.  I can't blame them.  I honestly don't want to drive there this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;So next weekend I will be calling in sick on friday and spending three and a half days in Plainview, NY (Long Island).  Does this man know how lucky he has it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8696191?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8696191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8696191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8696191' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8579484</id><published>2002-01-10T18:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-10T18:12:09.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I won't be around for the weekend.  Tomorrow I'm leaving directly after work for Binghamton.  Alex and I haven't seen one another in about six weeks.  With finals and winter break, we really couldn't find the time to get away.  We've made plans to see Weezer in Wilkes-Barre, PA in february.  I ordered the tickets today.  Section 105, Row P, Seats 17 to 18.  Hopefully this place will be tiny.  I don't really see Weezer being able to sell out any place big in such a tiny town.  &lt;br /&gt;For anyone who is interested, that would probably be no one, I'm no longer on a modem.  It feels good to have the freedom of always being on line and using the phone at the same time.  I still have a cold (getting much better) and my leg is almost 100%.  I went running yesterday for the first time since thursday.  So, until Sunday. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8579484?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8579484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8579484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8579484' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8548941</id><published>2002-01-09T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-09T17:48:14.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm going to be getting a new web address soon.  Therefore no more pop ups on the geocities pages.  Please be patient.  Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8548941?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8548941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8548941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8548941' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8522463</id><published>2002-01-08T18:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-08T18:40:38.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;This time tomorrow there will be no more kick off/mother fuckin' dialin' up modem action.  It's all about the cable connection baby.  RoadRunner here I come.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8522463?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8522463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8522463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8522463' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8522382</id><published>2002-01-08T18:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-08T18:23:05.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm sure most of you have heard/seen the commercials for the New York Lotto.  You know, the ones with groups of your typical New Yorkers singing along with Barenaked Ladies "If I had a Million Dollars"?  Well, the women I work with are completely obsessed with these commerciasl and bring them up everyday in conversation.  As you can tell I am a Barenaked Ladies fan and felt that I had to listen in to what they had to say about the songs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman 1:  So you finally heard that song?  The one about a million dollars?&lt;br /&gt;Woman 2:  Yes I did.  I think it's cute!&lt;br /&gt;Woman 3:  Oh, well did you hear where that song comes from.&lt;br /&gt;Woman 1 and 2:  NO, I HAVEN'T!&lt;br /&gt;Woman 3:  Well, It comes from a broadway show in the 1930's.  The show was called &lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Barenaked Ladies&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt; and everyone had to go out on stage naked everynight.  When they decided to take the song for the commercial the Lotto people had to get permission to use it.  It was a huge legal thing.&lt;br /&gt;Woman 1 and 2:  Really?  We had no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fuck?  I don't think so.  Middleaged women.  I didn't say anything to them.  Instead I just rolled my eyes and laughed to myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8522382?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8522382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8522382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8522382' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8497277</id><published>2002-01-07T19:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-07T19:38:57.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sprained my leg friday night.  Meaning.  No more running for a while.  Maybe that is why I've been having such fucked up dreams.  Last night I dreamt that I had plans to meet up with Alex for the weekend.  While I was waiting for his arrival I hung out with my college buddy Sharon.  I ended up having such a great time with her that I thought I was more in love with her than Alex, so I completely blew him off.  By the time I regreted that decision, he had left town and was no longer speaking to me.  It was one of those dreams where you wake up really pissed off and wishing you could go back to sleep and change things.  I have this feeling something bad is going to happen this weekend.  Something terrible has to happen with my plans.  Right now I can't run which means I will be extra bloated.  Extra bloated because I'm supposed to get my period this time next week.  Supposed to get my period next week means I will get it this weekend.  This weekend meaning snow, snow, and more snow to keep me from driving to Binghamton.  Or worse.  Alex will get stuck in a snow drift on his way up from Long Island.  Of course, the best of all things, gee I've been away from Alex for six weeks and when do I get a cold?  Hmmm?  Well, if you guessed right about now you would be correct.  Currently I have the sniffles, a cough and a slight sore throat.  JESUS CHRIST.&lt;br /&gt;It could be worse.  I had a thought today that if I were still in college and school were in session I would have had rep class.  Nothing could be worse than &lt;a href="http://music.binghamton.edu/facultymain.html#VOICE"&gt;Mary Burgess&lt;/a&gt; and her vocal technique of hell.  Ah,  the memories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8497277?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8497277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8497277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8497277' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8445059</id><published>2002-01-05T21:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-05T21:47:09.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;c&gt;from&lt;a href="http://www.miami.com/herald/special/features/barry/2002/docs/jan06.htm"&gt;Miami Herald: DAVE BARRY&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/c&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;c&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;h3&gt;MY COMPUTER HATES ME&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/c&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least once per day, without fail, my computer, like every computer I have ever owned, has some kind of emotional breakdown. It simply stops working -- often when I'm not touching it -- and it puts a message on the screen informing me that an error has occurred. It does not say what the error is, nor where it occurred. For all I know, it occurred in New Zealand, and my computer found out about it via the Internet, and became so upset that it could not go on.&lt;br /&gt;When this happens, I have to turn my computer off and start it up again. When I do, my computer puts a snippy note on the screen informing me that it is scanning its disks for errors, because it was shut down improperly. &lt;br /&gt;``But I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!'' I shout, but my computer ignores me, because it is busy scanning its disks. You just know that if it finds any errors, it's going to blame me, even though I don't even know where its disks ARE.&lt;br /&gt;My computers keep having seizures, but I keep buying Windows versions, hoping I'll get lucky. I'm like the loser in the nightclub who keeps hitting on the hot babe. His shoes are squishing from the piña colada she poured on him, but he's thinking: ``She's warming up to me!''&lt;br /&gt;I bring this all up because now Microsoft has a new version out, Windows XP, which according to everybody is the ``most reliable Windows ever.'' To me, this is like saying that asparagus is ``the most articulate vegetable ever.'' But still, I am tempted. ``Maybe this will be the one,'' I say to Buddy, as the two of us wait for the disks to be scanned.&lt;br /&gt;If I do get Windows XP, I won't try to install it myself. I no longer mess with the innards of my computer. The last time I tried was a disaster, even though I enlisted the aid of my friend Rob Stavis, a medical doctor who is the most mechanically inclined person I know. Rob can disassemble and successfully reassemble a live human being. He and I recently spent an entire weekend trying to solve an allegedly simple computer problem. We wound up at the computer store, talking to guys who were trained by the Monty Python Institute of Customer Service:&lt;br /&gt;Because the more I think about this Windows XP, the better it looks, sitting over there by the bar, drinking a piña colada. All I have to do is make my move, and I'll have what every guy dreams of: computer reliability! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8445059?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8445059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8445059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8445059' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8420857</id><published>2002-01-04T21:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-04T21:48:00.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm so god damn tired.  Three nights in a row of only six hours of sleep.  Sprained my ankle while running this evening.  Finished off the workout walking and then came home and iced it down.  Hopefully it won't be that bad.  Bought a $22.00 pajama top at Victoria Secret today.  I almost bought a $20.00 bra with a $2.00 pair of underware, but than I knocked some sense into myself.  Next weekend i'll be in Binghamton with Alex.  That will make it six weeks since i've seen him.  Definately the longest i've gone.  I really need to sleep.  Past my bed time (9pm).  Goodnight.  (oh, this occurred to me while I was running.  Why was my ex wearing velcro sneakers when I saw him at wal-mart last weekend?  I thought only children and the elderly wore velcro sneakers.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8420857?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8420857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8420857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8420857' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8320866</id><published>2002-01-01T12:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-01T12:54:25.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>eleven days till alex&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8320866?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8320866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8320866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8320866' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8320493</id><published>2002-01-01T12:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-01T12:49:25.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Went to Jodi's boyfriends for new years.  He was out working.  Jodi is 23 years old and dating a man who is 32.  He has a house that we basically sat in and watched tv for three hours.  I wasn't expecting much, but my friends at home are pretty boring.  I couldn't even watch sex in the city.  It has been three days since I've talked to Alex.  I don't really feel like talking to him.  He doesn't really have anything to talk about when he is home from school.  Not to mention the fact that he has his gre on friday.  I'll probably call him tomorrow night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8320493?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8320493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8320493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8320493' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8305445</id><published>2001-12-31T17:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-31T17:31:32.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When checking my e-mail minutes ago, I got this lovely note from the mailing list of DavidGray.com:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;c&gt;davidgray.com is really sux..&lt;br /&gt;and maillist owned by me&lt;br /&gt;so sux privacy&lt;/c&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;c&gt;hehehe...&lt;/c&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else on the mailing list get this?  Hacker possibly?  I have blocked them from my mailing list.  Not that that matters  my address is now out there.  All I have to say is that this person really needs to learn how to spell.  "maillist".   And the grammar is terrible.  "davidgray.com is really sux..".  What tense is this supposed to be?  Jodi's tonight for new years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8305445?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8305445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8305445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8305445' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8284261</id><published>2001-12-30T19:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-30T19:50:10.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>FAMILY TRIP TO THE MALL.  I don't think I have ever bought as much stuff in one day as I did today.  Two tops from &lt;a href="http://www.hm.com/us/start/start/index.jsp"&gt;H&amp;M&lt;/a&gt;, pants for $15.00 at the Gap (originally $48.00), leather shoes at Parade of Shoes and a reflective vest for running at night.  Going to the mall makes me very insecure.  Too many skinny made over young women that make me feel that I just didn't pay enough for my clothes.  Tomorrow night I'm going to be with Jodi.  I was told that we were going to have a party, but come to find out it will just be the two of us.  I'm going to buy some Smirnoff Ice and Kalluha to ring in the New Year.  In a way, I think I would rather stay at home that go out with just Jodi.  Who knows, maybe I will have fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8284261?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8284261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8284261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8284261' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8265584</id><published>2001-12-29T22:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-30T19:34:20.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have spent about a good five hours revamping.  I added a page with pictures and a little biographical information.  I don't even think anyone reads this, but if anyone ever wants to know what I look like they can just take a peak at the picks.  I am very cheap.  Thus explaining all of the free web stuff.  Blogger, geocities, yahoo web mail and the guestbook,  all free.  Ran into the ex last night in wal-mart.  Very ackward.  I was there with my parents.  They left me behind so that we could say hello.  I couldn't even look at him because sadly i'm still attracted to him.  Not emotionally, but damn I think he is still sexy.  Then an extreme feeling of guilt came over me.  In a way I felt like I was cheating on Alex.  I felt bad for the feelings I was having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A phone call with Alex today didn't go all that well.  He was feeling ill and didn't have much to say.  He is on break and all of his thoughts are consumed with the gre's.  Because I have graduated and have never taken the gre, I really can't relate to what he is talking about.  All of his talk of grad school makes me feel really depressed.  Am I missing out on something?  I also get depressed when he speaks of the future (grad school and all) and speaks as if I won't be in the same city as him.  We really need to start talking about future plans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8265584?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8265584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8265584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8265584' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8264788</id><published>2001-12-29T21:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-29T21:32:41.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>another night another edit&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8264788?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8264788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8264788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8264788' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8217671</id><published>2001-12-27T19:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-27T19:54:32.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was slow.  I wrote alex a letter while I was at work.  Then I hid the evidence in my bin, left for home and forgot it.  Doesn't really matter because I doubt I would have mailed it.  I just need one question answered.  Why is it that I won't have to shit all day, but the minute I get one mile from my house I have to go?  Whenever I go running I have to shit.  That is a fact.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8217671?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8217671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8217671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8217671' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8188825</id><published>2001-12-25T17:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-25T17:56:29.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>By the Way.  I'm giving graduate school a second thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8188825?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8188825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8188825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8188825' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8188753</id><published>2001-12-25T17:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-25T17:51:20.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ah Christmas.  It just isn't like I remember it.  There was a time when I enjoyed being with my mother's family.  It was my two cousins, Tim and Kim, their parents and my grandparents.  We would gather at our house on christmas day and exchange presents.  We would eat, talk and have a good time.  Well, the "kids" have grown up (my cousins and myself), my aunt and uncle have become two of the most selfish people on this planet and my grandmother passed away in september.  My grandfather just sat on the couch with his crossword puzzles.  My father and I paced around the house looking at our watches waiting patiently waiting for the day to end.  My mother bitched about having to make the dinner all by herself eventhough my aunt said that she would help out.  My cousin Kim spent the whole time on the phone talking with friends from back home (Syracuse), and her brother and my uncle tried to rush dinner so that they could leave and go catch a movie at 2:45.  Not to mention the fact that my grandfather insisted that dinner be at his house this year.  That meant that we had to be in a house that wasn't the cleanest for about three hours.&lt;P&gt;On a more pleasant note, I got a card from my sweetie yesterday in the mail.  That was quite a surprise.  It really isn't like Alex to send my things out of the blue.  I can't believe how much I miss him.  So far we have the weekend of January 11-13 set aside for a visit.  By that time it will have been five weeks since I've seen him.  I'm starting to forget what he looks like.  I can't wait to call him tomorrow to thank him for sending the card and to tell him how much I miss him.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;b&gt;Presents Received&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;c&gt;digital camera, cordless phone, clothes, toiletries, Office Space on vhs, Ben Folds "Rockin' the Suburbs", Sarah McLachlan "Solace", a desk chair, $100.00 gift certificate to H&amp;M, and many cards from loved ones.&lt;/c&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8188753?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8188753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8188753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8188753' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8148398</id><published>2001-12-23T15:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-23T15:38:34.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Once again I was running down McGowen Rd.  Felling good about life and my daily workout.  When a bad case of the golly woggles (aka trotts aka the runs) hit me.  I had to do a sort of run/ walk home the whole time clenching my ass so to keep the feces from expelling itself in my pants.  Let me tell you, this is the most unpleasent feeling one will ever have.  I did make it home without going in my pants, sat on the toilet for a good twenty minutes, put my p.j.'s back on and then went back to bed.  Now I'm questioning whether or not I want to try this again after dinner.  Word is there will be a good storm.  Hopefully later tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8148398?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8148398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8148398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8148398' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3245104.post-8136353</id><published>2001-12-22T23:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-23T15:15:02.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, blogger's template page is missing its information.  So my plans to play around with the formatting have been ruined for the day.  Plus, this might be a lot easier once I get my cable connection.  Jan 9th.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3245104-8136353?l=alicechildress.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8136353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3245104/posts/default/8136353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alicechildress.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8136353' title=''/><author><name>Kristin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07097093224101536137</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></entry></feed>
