<?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-35829837</id><updated>2011-08-08T10:44:02.666-04:00</updated><category term='debt'/><category term='life sucking'/><category term='and music'/><category term='cleaning'/><category term='comics'/><category term='class'/><title type='text'>A Geek by Any Other Name</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</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>73</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4229148474007367884</id><published>2011-08-08T10:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T10:44:02.687-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Demoted and it feels good</title><content type='html'>Well the time since my last post I have had some big changes.  I was moved to a different store that had even more problems than my old store had.  It didn't help that my boss kept using word "craphole" when talking about the store.  My first day at the new store I was told that I could be fired because of the numbers my old store ran my last week.  I knew that those numbers had been faked, but I have no proof and my boss didn't believe me.  After 2 days of not knowing if I would still have a job the next day, I told my boss I was demoting myself.  I have hated this position as long as I had had it and couldn't do it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So two weeks later I was demoted officially, although I was the last to know.  I was moved to the store I started at and I am so much happier.  I actually have days off.  For the last year I worked at least a few hours of everyday.  The first week I was in heaven, I only worked the 48 hours I was scheduled instead of the 70 plus hours I have been doing.  I have returned to working under my old boss who is very hands off instead of the micromanaging that I have had for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph noticed the difference right away.  I am not this stressed out beaten down wreak anymore and I feel good about my life again.  I am still looking for a new job, but I can at least live with one I have now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4229148474007367884?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4229148474007367884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4229148474007367884&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4229148474007367884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4229148474007367884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2011/08/demoted-and-it-feels-good.html' title='Demoted and it feels good'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-3265394376858650737</id><published>2011-06-23T20:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T20:58:37.009-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Job, Wedding, and General Bitching</title><content type='html'>So how long does it take before your blog is considered inactive?  I would say that the year plus since I have logged on to my blog would have been more than sufficient.  I just reread my last post.  Update on the promotion, the job still sucks.  Now I have managers who don't listen to me instead of just crew.  At the moment I am looking for another job.  This week I have worked 40 hours in three days and managed to get one of my managers fired in less than two weeks after getting assigned to my store.  Another one of my managers had his mother die suddenly which makes for a bad start to my week.  I have finally got to a point where I know that I will never be happy doing this job.  Once I realized that I at least feel good about my decision to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the personal front Steph and I are engaged.  I asked her on her birthday at the end of this last year.  Getting married this next April and all the planning is underway.  I really don't have a lot to do with most of it, by my choice.  I care about the when and the where and who will be there, but do I care about the flowers?  Heck no.  Steph has her binder and appointments and I show up when necessary to give my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To link to two things together I think that why I hate my job so much right now is because my personal life is really good.  When the rest of my life sucked I don't think I realized that my job sucked.  It just used to seem all the same so I didn't really notice.  Now that I am happy at home I guess the fact that I am never happy at work stands out more now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a post with too much reflection on life I have to bring back the geek.  This is the summer of comic book movies.  Thor was release in May and Green Lantern last week.  I have yet to see Green Lantern but the reviews don't look so good.  Thor was really goaskod, not wonderful but good.  Now I have people asking me questions about comics.  I wouldn't mind but they are dumb questions sometimes.  I have a Facebook friend who messages me every time I am on to ask me stupid shit.  I know way to much about comics, but really I am not your on call source for comic related information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well until next time true believers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-3265394376858650737?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/3265394376858650737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=3265394376858650737&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/3265394376858650737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/3265394376858650737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2011/06/job-wedding-and-general-bitching.html' title='Job, Wedding, and General Bitching'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-8630957477821955814</id><published>2010-04-02T10:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T10:54:02.274-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello There</title><content type='html'>Well after several months of not blogging I felt it was time for an update. Well the biggest news is that I got promoted since I my last update. Actually I am about to be updated a second time on this coming Tuesday. This means I will finally be in charge of my own store. I am excited and kind of nervous. I am even more nervous since I can't tell anyone at work, even my boss until after it has already happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started Tuesday when my district manager's boss came in to talk to me. This got me in a bit of a panic because the idea of a big wig at our company coming to talk to me was not good. First thought was that I had done something really bad. He sat me down and asked me if I was ready to run my own store. Then I heard the situation, to make a long store short it involved criminal charges and an electronic monitoring braclet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is a 10% raise and more autonomy at work. The bad news is I can't tell anyone until they make they fire the guy on Tuesday. What makes this harder is that my boss knows something is up because my new district manager came to talk to me at work while she was there later that night. So my boss and my crew keeps asking me what is going on and all I can say is that I can't tell them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally not being able to tell anybody at work made me have to tell everyone else in my life as soon as posible starting with the girlfriend and moving on down the list. That night I was so excited and nervous that I could barely sleep. Now I just what the time to pass faster so I can just get it over with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-8630957477821955814?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8630957477821955814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=8630957477821955814&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8630957477821955814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8630957477821955814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2010/04/hello-there.html' title='Hello There'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-2183328968972731286</id><published>2009-10-08T02:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T03:17:46.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is My Life and It May Suck</title><content type='html'>Well I have not even tried to keep this thing up lately.  I just don't have to a lot to say.  Work has been a real chore.  The sexual harasser at work has been sent to another store after giving a girl at work a lap dance in the office.  We were sent a manager from another store as a replacement and he kind of sucks.  I have been around this store long enough to see what all the problems are, but I have no real power to make the changes to fix them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realize how much I miss my friends back in BG.  I love my girlfriend, but I have no real friends of my own.  When we aren't spending time together I am alone or at work.  It really sucks.  I know I could spend time with my girlfriend's friends, but I always feel out of place.  I just miss being a half hour or less from my closest friends, because three hours is just to much.  We're planing to go to visit next month so that should help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now living poorer than I was my first year away at college.  I am almost at the point of choosing which bills I can pay every month and eating ramen three times a day.  I exaggerate, but only a little.  It is sad that I am making the most I ever have and still have less money than I did a year ago.  Oh well there isn't much I can do about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-2183328968972731286?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2183328968972731286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=2183328968972731286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2183328968972731286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2183328968972731286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is-my-life-and-it-may-suck.html' title='This Is My Life and It May Suck'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-9089070660844589085</id><published>2009-07-07T15:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T16:31:26.585-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Parents May Be Insane and A New Job</title><content type='html'>This weekend I had my parents visit for the holiday weekend.  The problem is that I had told them not to come up, but they came anyway.  The Monday before my mom called me to say they were coming for a visit.  I asked them not to come because I had to work the whole weekend.  They came anyway, so I had to come up with some time to see them.  My girlfriend and her mom decided to have a cook out and invite them for the fourth.  This was the best we could all come up with on short notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Saturday comes and I a just getting up for my parents who were coming at noon only to hear my parents at my door.  I freaked out.  I was so mad that I just basically told them to leave and give me at least an hour to get ready, and by told I mean screamed.  This isn't even mentioning the fact that I wasn't alone when my parents showed up three hours early without even calling.  That made things even more awkward.  That I think freaked my girlfriend out more than me standing outside yelling at my parents at 9 in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my parents came back I told them in no uncertain terms that the next time they invited themselves or showed up hours early, I wouldn't even answer the door.  Later still we had lunch with my girlfriend's parents.  It went alright, but I wasn't looking for them to meet anytime soon.  My girlfriend also meet my brother for the first time since he came along for the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I found out that I pissed off my girlfriend's dad by having them meet my parents.  I understand and agree that it was too soon, but it also wasn't my idea.  So great, my family really sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally have a new job since this one is the worst one I have ever had and that is saying a lot.  I am actually only working for a different franchise of the same company.  This company doesn't seem retarded like the current one and has a lot of perks like better vacation time, bonuses, closer location.  Meanwhile I have had to suffer through some really awkward conversations with my current employer since I had to talk to them before I could interview with the other company.  Worst conversation of my entire life.  I mean how do you tell your boss that you hate your job and are looking elsewhere.  I was so glad after that to be able to put in my two weeks notice since I kind of burned my bridges there.  Now I am just serving out my time and trying to not just get fired in these last few days.  I love my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-9089070660844589085?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/9089070660844589085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=9089070660844589085&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/9089070660844589085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/9089070660844589085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-parents-may-be-insane-and-new-job.html' title='My Parents May Be Insane and A New Job'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4450016550708426798</id><published>2009-05-21T22:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T22:49:18.247-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life In a New Town</title><content type='html'>Well I thought that the moving would be the hard part, and it was hard.  I am still unpacking because even though I had five full days to finish it I totally didn't.  Things are mostly put away except the pile of 8 boxes in my bedroom.  Oh well I will get that done on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my new job on Monday.  It is probably the most horrible job I have ever had.  While it is almost the same job I had before, it is far worse.  I knew that some things would be different, but I just didn't think that it would be this bad.  I know I can be overly dramatic sometimes, but now isn't one of them.  I have never been "corrected" for doing things that I know for a fact are right before in my life.  These people have no clue how to run their business and it drives me insane.  To top it off I feel like I have no one to talk to there.  All of the people there are just irritating.  I have this weekend off work so I am spending it applying for new jobs and fine tuning my resume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than the job part of my life, I am actually doing pretty well.  The move went smooth enough, the girlfriend is happy to not have a long distance relationship again (as am I), I forgot how much I missed about living alone,  I have a washer and dryer that don't take quarters for the first time in 7 years, and I got my internet installed and it costs me half as much as it has for the last 3 years.  I can't think about the last one too much or I will realize how much money I wasted (just did $720).  Except for the money thing those are all good things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4450016550708426798?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4450016550708426798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4450016550708426798&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4450016550708426798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4450016550708426798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2009/05/life-in-new-town.html' title='Life In a New Town'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-7586602992500103136</id><published>2009-05-11T07:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T07:29:29.426-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to Move</title><content type='html'>Well today I being a two day process of moving to the new place in Cleveland.  I will have live in a even smaller place and have to be on a strict budget.  I know it sounds to good to be true.  I have to get used to having no cable and I won't have internet until Friday.  So I have to get used to network TV and reading for the next few days while I unpack.  Saturday we are heading back to BG for the night to go out one last time.  This is another one of those times were I have been told I must get drunk.  Last time I heard that was on my birthday, and that didn't turn out so well (meaning I throw up a lot).  Oh well  I guess once every six months won't kill me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-7586602992500103136?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7586602992500103136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=7586602992500103136&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7586602992500103136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7586602992500103136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2009/05/time-to-move.html' title='Time to Move'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-2846489921214026978</id><published>2009-04-24T10:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T11:40:25.718-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yep, I'm Moving</title><content type='html'>Well I now have a new job (still shitty) and an apartment (super small).  I can't help but feel nervous still.  It is still a huge change and I have so much packing and moving to do that I don't feel excited yet.  My last big move was to college seven years ago, so I guess I am a little out of practice.  The fact that I have a wonderful girl who loves me waiting there is the only thing that really makes going through all of this trouble worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am so broke that I will have to pull a big chunk out of my emergency fund to make the move happen since I am pay for rent on two places for a few months.  This is on top of the money I have spent traveling to and from the new place to see the girl and find an apartment.  Now that I have I place I don't have to make that drive for a week or two.  This is good also because it is a terribly boring drive as well as being two and a half hours long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to leaving my current job.  I just feel like I have done everything I can for the place.  I know that I would never get promoted again and that would be the only way I could get more done.  Still I feel bad because there are not enough people in the company to really replace me at the moment.  As angry as that place makes me sometimes, it is still like another home to me and the people there are like my family.  Going to a job that is almost the same for another company doesn't make me feel any better.  Oh well time to move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-2846489921214026978?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2846489921214026978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=2846489921214026978&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2846489921214026978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2846489921214026978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2009/04/yep-im-moving.html' title='Yep, I&apos;m Moving'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-7985744321703772396</id><published>2009-03-30T21:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T22:07:35.066-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well I know I have not posted in forever, but who cares.  I have found I don't want to post a lot when I am actually happy, so I haven't been posting.  I am at the moment a little upset.  My girlfriend is moving to Cleveland.  It is good for her and she will have a better job.  But now my girlfriend will live 150 miles away.  This sucks, so I applied for a job online.  I already have an interview set up for next week, but that still means some time apart.  I had hoped that when I got another job it would be one that would be completely different from my current job.  It doesn't look like that will be the case, since I am trying to get a job that is pretty much the same job I have now only in Cleveland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still haven't told my parents that I am planning on moving.  I already told my boss and my friends, but I just don't want to worry them so I'll tell them once I have a definite plan.  I don't think it will bother them, I just think they will be worried.  At least they will know where I am which is something they can't say right now about my wayward brother.  Anyway I am just hoping for the best so I can have a plan for the future, even if it is in Cleveland.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-7985744321703772396?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7985744321703772396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=7985744321703772396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7985744321703772396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7985744321703772396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2009/03/well-i-know-i-have-not-posted-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-5354582807201010891</id><published>2008-10-19T19:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T20:10:20.510-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not such a Sweet Day</title><content type='html'>Just a question, did everyone else in the world know that yesterday was Sweetest Day?  Apparently I am just stupid.  In the five years I was single I seem to have to forgotten what month this greeting card holiday was even in.  Unfortunately my girlfriend did not, awkward huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-5354582807201010891?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/5354582807201010891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=5354582807201010891&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5354582807201010891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5354582807201010891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/10/not-such-sweet-day.html' title='Not such a Sweet Day'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-1958960241206255229</id><published>2008-10-12T21:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T21:14:54.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Economic Crisis?</title><content type='html'>Well the economy may be going to hell, but gas prices are going down.  So it was great not having to pay over fifty dollars for gas so I was really happy.  I may be a horrible person, but screw everyone else I saved some money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-1958960241206255229?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/1958960241206255229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=1958960241206255229&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/1958960241206255229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/1958960241206255229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/10/economic-crisis.html' title='Economic Crisis?'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-3846589933376620034</id><published>2008-10-07T20:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T21:31:06.773-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sickeningly Fun Weekend</title><content type='html'>Well I had a good weekend for the most part.  I got to go out with my girlfriend, two of her friends, and Becky on Saturday night.  Problem was I drank a lot.  Very stupid.  I don't remember most of the last bar we were at and I was so sick I couldn't leave my girlfriend's house.  I have never been that drunk before, it was embarrassing.  Nothing like spending time nauseous on the floor of your girlfriend's bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I only felt a little better so I was driven home and slept until noon.  I woke up and decided not to waste any more of my weekend and went to visit my friends in Toledo.  I had been invited up to celebrate my friend Maria passing a major point in her graduate program early in the week and I wanted to congratulate her.  I went with them to the mall and helped babysit while the my friends were shopping and then we all went out to dinner.  By then I was mostly over my nausea and could eat more than the crackers and tomato soup I had eaten earlier in the day.  Except for the way I felt on Sunday it was a really good weekend.  Next time I go out I am just not going to drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-3846589933376620034?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/3846589933376620034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=3846589933376620034&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/3846589933376620034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/3846589933376620034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/10/sickeningly-fun-weekend.html' title='A Sickeningly Fun Weekend'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-8510817057361110932</id><published>2008-08-23T18:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T19:19:31.512-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Private Life</title><content type='html'>Well I was reminded today that nothing stays secret for long.  I know that everyone in our small company knows I am dating some else at work.  While I knew that this was a really badly kept secret but, I just assumed that it would stay quiet just a little longer.  I just wanted to have no one at work knowing or caring about my personal life.  Oh well, what is done is done.  I don't care that much or anything, I just feel like my privacy is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that I have been really busy this week.  Work has been busy with all of the college kids moving back in.  I am still not done unpacking.  I think that this is becoming an endless process.  I am going home tomorrow for a family lunch thing at my grandma's house.  So I have a hour and half drive each way to be there for a few hours to look forward to, great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-8510817057361110932?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8510817057361110932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=8510817057361110932&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8510817057361110932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8510817057361110932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-private-life.html' title='No Private Life'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-6337274290328416596</id><published>2008-08-17T07:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T07:56:39.647-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Levels of Torture</title><content type='html'>The moving has been over for a week now, but the unpacking may have another week to go.  My room is still in god awful shape, the rest of the place is only better because my roommate has done the work.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I went out last night to buy several space bags to try to make my stuff fit.  While I am not convinced that it will, I have to do something since it is making me go nuts.  I can't stand bumping into stuff that is lying around.  I have today off work and I am promising myself that I will have this at least mostly finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile I have been more than a little distracted from the job hunt.  I also had no Internet until Wednesday so my options were limited to say the least.  The only thing that has gotten me through the last two at work has been the thought of quiting.  Just like that horrible day I survived by scripting my resignation letter.  I have to find something different before I loose what is left of my sanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-6337274290328416596?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6337274290328416596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=6337274290328416596&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6337274290328416596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6337274290328416596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-levels-of-torture.html' title='New Levels of Torture'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-1994556435136332547</id><published>2008-08-08T07:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T07:31:21.363-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Moving Day is here.  I just want it to be over with.  I finished all of the packing on Tuesday.  I still have all of that last minute stuff to pack.  I am also sure I will be totally overwhelmed by how much stuff I really have.  I am still scared to loose so much closet space, but I am totally willing to do so to be rid of the bros next door.  They were running through the halls screaming at midnight last night.  I hate them.  Oh well time to get going.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-1994556435136332547?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/1994556435136332547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=1994556435136332547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/1994556435136332547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/1994556435136332547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/08/moving-day-is-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-396045168977745308</id><published>2008-08-02T19:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T19:11:33.269-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Work F***ing sucks</title><content type='html'>I had a horrible day.  With out getting into anything specific I was treated really badly.  If it was the first time I would maybe be able to deal with it, but this is something like the fifth.  I am totally quitting, I just need to find a new job.  Monday is when I intend talk to my bosses about it.  After 11 years I am just done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-396045168977745308?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/396045168977745308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=396045168977745308&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/396045168977745308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/396045168977745308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/08/work-fing-sucks.html' title='Work F***ing sucks'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-2697545701618703353</id><published>2008-07-30T23:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T23:23:29.928-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those moments</title><content type='html'>I know we all do stupid things, but why do I have the superhuman ability to make an ass out of myself?  I chose the worst possible moment to do and say the wrong thing.  I don't know if I just get nervous or I have a rare form of brain damage.  All I know is that I have that moment when I realize that I just need to get out before it gets worse.  I am stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-2697545701618703353?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2697545701618703353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=2697545701618703353&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2697545701618703353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2697545701618703353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/07/one-of-those-moments.html' title='One of those moments'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4710923188657959403</id><published>2008-07-27T22:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T22:55:46.240-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a comment</title><content type='html'>I just saw the movie 21 and it was really good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4710923188657959403?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4710923188657959403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4710923188657959403&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4710923188657959403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4710923188657959403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/07/just-comment.html' title='Just a comment'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4947907154365004514</id><published>2008-07-20T19:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T19:45:16.943-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pretty Good Week</title><content type='html'>Well I must say that this week has been kind of weird for me.  I went out with friends twice, drank quite a bit, and got asked out on a date.  None of these things usually happen for me.  One I may on rare occasion go out with friends, but never usually twice in a week.  When I do go out I don't normally get as drunk as I did.  Not wasted drunk, but to the point where parts of the night get a little fuzzy.  I even drank beer and I never drink beer.  Until the very end of the night it was really fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last night I went out again and saw the Dark Knight.  The movie was awesome.  Not only from the comic geek prospective, mainly because it was just a good movie.  It was even worth dragging myself up from a long nap.  Afterward we all walked over to a nearby bar and had a few drinks.  Then I was a little caught off guard when one of the girls that we were out with asked me out.  More shocking was that she was not a raving lunatic.  You see I haven't been out on a date or even tried to date in a while (five years).  So after a long time of feeling like a social reject the thought that someone wanted to go out with me is a little strange.  Anyway, I'll just see how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4947907154365004514?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4947907154365004514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4947907154365004514&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4947907154365004514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4947907154365004514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title='A Pretty Good Week'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-7777985828864769764</id><published>2008-06-22T23:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T00:09:27.231-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trapped</title><content type='html'>Well today I was home for my parents thirtieth wedding anniversary.  I thought that we were going to go out and have lunch at a nice restaurant with a bunch of my parents' friends and that would be it.  Of course the plans were completely changed since I talked to mom last week.  Now it was at my grandma's house (since grandma isn't well enough to go out) and it was now over five hours long. Oh my GOD.  Five hours, and no one told me anything.  I stupidly agreeded to ride with my parents and by doing so was stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was stranded I saw the daughter of my mom's old friend.  She is 18 and hopelessly shallow.  Hearing her talk seriously made the vomit rise up the back of my throat.  If that girl could text any more often or talk about how she deserved her own car, I would hit her.  After half an hour of her vapid rantings I couldn't help thinking about how I had deeper conversations with her when she was six.  So sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-7777985828864769764?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7777985828864769764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=7777985828864769764&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7777985828864769764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7777985828864769764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/06/trapped.html' title='Trapped'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-237681583711850989</id><published>2008-06-11T00:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T00:51:39.630-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Depressing Trek</title><content type='html'>The last week or so has been a little depressing.  First I was told I was over a week behind on a project I didn't know I was supposed to be doing.  This was told to me at a meeting where I was given an even more grim view of our store than I normally have.  Just what I need to inspire me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I went out with Winter and a new manager at the store. They wanted me to get drunk.  I didn't, but I still had some fun.  We were supposed to try fishbowls, but they have coconut rum and I don't like coconut at all.  So no fishbowl for me.  We went out again on Saturday with the same group plus a friend of the new manager.  This was less enjoyable just because it was over 90 degrees.  Nothing like feeling sweaty and smelly by the time you get to the bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I got some DVDs that I ordered online.  Since I am a geek, yes they were Star Trek.  I really enjoyed watching all twenty episodes from each of the various series.  The original series and the next generation will always be my favorites, but I would be lying if I said I didn't like at least some of every series.  My enjoyment may have started to drive my poor roommate to the brink of insanity since she is more of a Star Wars person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As depressing end to my week my mom called me to say that my grandmother was put on oxygen.  Not really a good sign.  I try not to worry, but knowing someone you love is not in good health sucks.  Now not being able to be there to see her sucks even more.  It was all I could do not to make a trip home to visit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-237681583711850989?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/237681583711850989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=237681583711850989&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/237681583711850989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/237681583711850989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/06/depressing-trek.html' title='A Depressing Trek'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-6056238679252081012</id><published>2008-05-12T18:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T18:54:57.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well my vacation is almost over.  I must say it has been nice.  I haven't actually done anything, but that alone has been wonderful.  I have slept for ten hours almost every single day, got to go home and visit with my family, and even got a bit of a start on packing.  Not to bad for a week.  Unfortunately this is coming to an end.  At four tomorrow I will back into another six months of work.  Did I mention that I know I will be getting bitched at the moment I get in?  The joy of not being at work for a week is that I have been blamed for some stuff that no one else was willing to take responsibility for.  Nothing like more added dread in returning to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well yesterday I found I had $600 in my checking account from the US government for "economic stimulus".   So what do I do?  I buy a new computer.  I had been thinking about it for a while, and since I didn't need to use the money for anything else, I spent it.  I am going to think of it as doing my part to help our economy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-6056238679252081012?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6056238679252081012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=6056238679252081012&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6056238679252081012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6056238679252081012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/05/well-my-vacation-is-almost-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-2705946173260877039</id><published>2008-05-04T08:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T09:03:23.839-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Old people are Funny</title><content type='html'>Well yesterday was my last day before vacation and I just knew I couldn't have a day with no weirdness. About an hour or two before I was going to leave I had this strange old lady who has come to our store almost everyday for forever talk to me. I honestly hate her because she tries to tip the crew. I was the one who ended up helping her and she tried to tip me. I told her I could take it and that is when she said. "Well you'll need that money for when you start seeing girls."&lt;br /&gt;I just lost it and after a struggling to contain the laughter I just told her that I was 26 and that I had been "seeing girls" for ten years. She mumbled something about me looking young for my age and went off to take a seat. Ah old people can be funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-2705946173260877039?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2705946173260877039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=2705946173260877039&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2705946173260877039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2705946173260877039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/05/old-people-are-funny.html' title='Old people are Funny'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-8772205193132412104</id><published>2008-04-30T20:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T21:07:41.551-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes I am a nerd, but I'm okay with it</title><content type='html'>Well I am finally so close to my vaction I can nearly taste it.  After a full year of 50 hour minimum weeks, I have nearly lost my mind.  In other work news my friend has now offically moved on after 3 years.  It is sad for me, I miss the people that I work with that have become my family.  At least it was another excuse to bring triple chocolate cake to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also today I finally got my hair cut.  Now it has only be about six weeks since my last haircut, but the last one, no make that several have been really bad.  The last time they took a chunk out of each temple and I thought I was going bald for a few weeks.  Thank you Winter and Julia for refuring me, she is really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to respond to my tag from Winter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Pick up nearest book&lt;br /&gt;2. Open to page 123&lt;br /&gt;3. Find 5th sentence&lt;br /&gt;4. Post next 3 sentences&lt;br /&gt;5. Tag 5 people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, here is a fun one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Star Trek Encyclopedia. &lt;br /&gt;(Yes Winter I know this is the part where you loudly scream NERD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drema IV. Fourth planet in the Selcundi Dream system, home to a humanoid civilization.  Drema IV possesses the largest deposits of dilithium ore ever recorded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I have no one to tag since all five bloggers I know have been tagged I'll do without that part.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-8772205193132412104?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8772205193132412104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=8772205193132412104&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8772205193132412104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8772205193132412104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/04/yes-i-am-nerd-but-im-okay-with-it.html' title='Yes I am a nerd, but I&apos;m okay with it'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4093707643305179440</id><published>2008-04-13T18:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T23:24:18.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Since when are guys so moody?</title><content type='html'>I work with so many moody people. I get it with the girls sometimes, but the real problem is the young guys. I never really thought of guys as emotional and moody, but the guys who are 6 to 10 years younger than me really are. Granted all of these guys I know from work which probably says a lot. It just seems that whenever I god forbid ask some guy at work to do his job, he sulks or mopes and just acts like an ass. Then one of the last ones was even mumbling something about beating me up for talking to him the way I had. Of course I had told him to get the hell out after he told me he quit. The next day another guy got in an argument with a girl at work and started slamming things around and trying to pick a fight with everybody else.&lt;br /&gt;Also at work I have had other issues. My boss has been out a lot and I have been in charge, great right? No, absolute god awful mess. Everything possible broke. I spent almost the entire time on the phone with tech support people, calling in crew, and informing my other boss of the situation. When my boss got back what did I get? Not a thank you, but what ever I know I did the best I could in the situation.&lt;br /&gt;After this I got a very rare weekend off. I went home for the weekend and saw my family. I even went out with my mom, aunt, cousin, and their assorted friends. It was weird being in a bar with my family. I don't think I have ever had a drink in front of them. In the end it was kind of fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4093707643305179440?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4093707643305179440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4093707643305179440&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4093707643305179440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4093707643305179440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/04/since-when-are-guys-so-mood.html' title='Since when are guys so moody?'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-3169673614959155110</id><published>2008-03-20T19:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T19:21:15.807-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you spend Your time?</title><content type='html'>I was realizing today that I spend far to much time at work in a homicidal rage.  The thought of killing all the annoying masses of people around me for at least 4 hours of everyday is getting to be a bit much.  I don't have the greatest job already and between being screamed at by random customers my crew went retarded today.  I need a vacation, a year between vacations is too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-3169673614959155110?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/3169673614959155110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=3169673614959155110&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/3169673614959155110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/3169673614959155110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/03/how-do-you-spend-your-time.html' title='How do you spend Your time?'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-5693756467181287236</id><published>2008-02-08T12:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T13:04:31.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to find a reason to be hopeful</title><content type='html'>Today I traded shifts at work so I could have the morning off and for once work the night shift.  I have said it before and I'll say it again working the open shift nearly kills me.  Thanks to some things which are out of my control, that is all I have worked in 8 long weeks.  So after a lovely day spent sleeping in and roaming around various blogs, I at least feel well rested.  Even though it isn't a day off, it still feels like one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day at work, half of our parking lot flooded.  It suck, but we still had to open and try to serve our customers.  By 4 o'clock I wanted to kill every customer that said, "Do you know you have a flooding problem" or "Can I make it through the water".  It was annoying as hell.  The only good thing is that I haven't been yelled at or called incompotant this week, but I still have two day to work yet this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday I went to the bank to deposit money that my grandmother gave me.  Since it was a larger amount than I knew what to do with I talked to someone there to see what I should do with.  While this nice woman was trying to help me I had to tell her about things like my income, my student loan and credit card debt, and my college education that doesn't really do anything for me.  After spending an hour feeling nausous and depressed, I think we came up with a good plan to help me avoid completely ending up destitute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winter and I seem to have found a new place for to go in August at the end of our lease.  It is on the first floor which may seem werid after almost six years in third floor apartments.  Hopefully the landloards are a little less insane than the ones I have dealt with recently.  I have only heard good things about them so far, so my fingers are crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully everthing makes sence, since spell check just refuses to work today.  Later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-5693756467181287236?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/5693756467181287236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=5693756467181287236&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5693756467181287236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5693756467181287236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/02/trying-to-find-reason-to-be-hopeful.html' title='Trying to find a reason to be hopeful'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-8325285607231222588</id><published>2008-01-27T12:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T13:20:13.519-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Winter was saying yesterday that I should post more often, but without something to say I'll just put random bits of crap together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is that once people get old that they think they are entitled to respect even though they are assholes? I would respect my elders if they weren't evil and trying to steal from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did talking in abbreviations become appropriate in normal life? If you don't have the time to say the entire word keep you mouth shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed that my 10 hour work day is really more like a minimum of 11 hours a day. I don't know when I let that happen, but it has and their seems to be no stopping it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a comic geek I am really bummed that in Spider Man, Peter Parker and Mary Jane's marriage has been erased. A marriage that in real time existed for twenty years now never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that although I would love to have a girlfriend I don't have the ability to put up with the bullshit that you get with most girls. Is it sad that I am just to tired to try to date? I just don't have the energy to try to do get to know someone and deal with all of their baggage now too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that this won't be a problem since the only people even mildly interested in me are gay men. If I have to feel any more awkward because some gay guy thinks I am cute I may just shoot myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that is it for now. Later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-8325285607231222588?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8325285607231222588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=8325285607231222588&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8325285607231222588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8325285607231222588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/01/random-thoughts.html' title='Random Thoughts'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-2772012097105983452</id><published>2008-01-06T19:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T19:42:21.902-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, I guess I am a jerk.</title><content type='html'>It has been pointed out to me a lot lately that I am a jerk.  It doesn't bother me that much, at all really.  I guess about five or six years ago I just got sick of being a "nice" person who got stepped on all the time.  I know it makes me selfish sometimes, but at least I don't feel taken advantage of all time anymore.  I used to be the guy who do almost anything anyone would ask me to do.  You need a ride home and live a hundred miles away, sure no problem.  Need me to cover your shift at work so you can go get high, I sure will.  You won't consider going out with me because you would rather sleep with my friend, that's great and can I get you a cup of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really once I decided that I mattered and I deserved to be happy too, it was easy for me to be a jerk a lot of the time.  Now if you ask me to do something I really don't want to do I'll tell you no and if you insist I'll very likely smile and tell you to go to hell.  My life may suck a great amount of the time, but at the very least I can try to make myself happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-2772012097105983452?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2772012097105983452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=2772012097105983452&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2772012097105983452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2772012097105983452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2008/01/yeah-i-guess-i-am-jerk.html' title='Yeah, I guess I am a jerk.'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-2476357570393583010</id><published>2007-12-02T20:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T21:22:39.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange couple of weeks</title><content type='html'>Well I've tried to write this post for about a week now.  I went home for thanksgiving and had to listen to my brother make an ass out of himself with his new cowboy shtick.  While he talked about his new tight jeans and riding bulls, I tried not to laugh (at least too hard).  He made fun of my hair and I made fun of the fact that his is balding and has back hair.  So I guess in the end we all had fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this week my boss has been on vacation and I have sort of been in charge.  I say sort of because I am just working to keep the weak person in our team from doing something too stupid.  This wasn't made any easier with some equipment that kept breaking down, and still isn't working right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real estate office that owns my building left a  message on my phone blaming me for dirty foot prints on the hall carpet.  Now this carpet has been dirty and disgusting since they day I moved in.  Not that I may not have a part in how bad it is, but I was being blamed for it all.  After calling them back I was sick of being treated like a child and I ended telling them I wouldn't be resigning my lease for next year and I would not be renting from them again.  I was kind of pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started to get sick.  I hate being sick.  I only get sick every couple of years and unfortunately this is that time.  Also falling under the sick category, our mantainace person told&lt;br /&gt;Winter, and later me, how a guy at another store said I was "pretty".  Ewww.  Not only is a guy, but a really weird guy with a mohawk.  Even though I was disgusted I had to find it a little funny.  Although now Winter is not leaving my side at the Christmas party if he is there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-2476357570393583010?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2476357570393583010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=2476357570393583010&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2476357570393583010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2476357570393583010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/12/strange-couple-of-weeks.html' title='Strange couple of weeks'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4713616074380681572</id><published>2007-11-01T15:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T15:05:24.114-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Comparisons</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was on Facebook and I finally used the compare friends function.  Well I had something like forty-five comparisons to make and I ended up skipping about twenty-five of them.  The funniest one I had was when it asked who I would rather date, my married friend or my room mate.  That just isn't a question I can really have an answer for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4713616074380681572?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4713616074380681572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4713616074380681572&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4713616074380681572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4713616074380681572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/11/comparisons.html' title='Comparisons'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-7680541316217338940</id><published>2007-10-27T21:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T01:03:17.522-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, Maybe I Have a Life After All</title><content type='html'>Since I haven't said anything of importance for over a month I guess I should have a lot to say now.  In case someone who may read this doesn't know me already my grandmother that I wrote about in my last post made it through her surgery fine and is recovering at her home now.  I'm still in debt beyond belief and am trying to find answers for a way to deal with it.  Unfortunately I keep having the urge to never get out of bed and hide under the covers, or start drinking, alot.  Since neither of those choices seem very productive I am of course looking for better ideas.  In other news work still sucks.  I want to fire everyone most of the time or maybe just get out while I still can.  October first was ten years since I started working for them and I can't imagine making it another year at this rate.  Unless I find a better job or better way to cope with I may loose what is left of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lease renewals are coming around again, I don't know if I want to stay in this apartment for another year or to find something else.  The fact that it is spacious enough and has two bathrooms is great.  The fact that it is on the third floor and has the annoying "bro's" across the hall is not so great.  They have got to be some of the most loud and irritating neighbors ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished watching the first season of the show Heroes.  It rocks.  I must say that every part of this show was made for the people who spent their childhoods reading comics and watching scifi.  Now I am working on catching up on the second season online.  So far I am one episode in and it looks good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.itsureiscold.blogspot.com/"&gt;Winter&lt;/a&gt; just finished up her vacation last week.  It was nice seeing her have fun with &lt;a href="http://www.papertrap.net/"&gt;Mark&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.nachoninja.blogspot.com/"&gt;Julia &lt;/a&gt;while Mark was in town.  I hate that I had no time to really tag along much.  What I was there for was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow I guess I should take a month between posts again, at least I have more to write.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-7680541316217338940?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7680541316217338940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=7680541316217338940&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7680541316217338940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7680541316217338940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/10/wow-maybe-i-have-life-after-all.html' title='Wow, Maybe I Have a Life After All'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-5432057719762754850</id><published>2007-09-20T11:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T11:25:47.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Day</title><content type='html'>Well yesterday morning I woke up at 7:30 to the sound of pounding.  Not remembering that they were putting a new roof on our building, I was a little shocked to see the outline of a person in my bedroom window.  This wouldn't have been so shocking except for the fact that I live on the third floor.  With that little sleep I didn't know what was going on, I just jumped out of bed and was a little freaked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the day when I was at work I got a call saying my grandmother is going to have heart surgery today.  This isn't the first time and we have know for about a month now it was coming.  I just called my mom and they have just started her five hour procedure, so I'll be finding out how she is by voicemail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-5432057719762754850?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/5432057719762754850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=5432057719762754850&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5432057719762754850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5432057719762754850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-day.html' title='My Day'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-5550691179362767611</id><published>2007-09-05T21:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T22:12:32.522-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicago</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Well after a miserable week and a shitty day a work on Saturday morning I took off with my friends Jon and Brandon to Chicago. I wasn't going to go, but I wanted to have some fun. Since I couldn't pay my bills this month anyway I just decided to spend my paycheck the way I wanted (after I set aside money for rent, no need to be homeless). So it was off to the big city, well the biggest city I have ever been to. I grew up on a farm a million miles from anywhere, so a city of that size is beyond huge.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106902383498859938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1aWNQ6WFZqE/Rt9cqQcLlaI/AAAAAAAAAAU/NHTdNQqaoFU/s320/HPIM0122.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We did a few touristy things while we where there, like going up to the Sears tower.  The views are awesome.  I also got stuck going to the Lego store for about an hour, thanks Jon.  The last thing we did was go to a Medieval Times dinner theater.  It had acting on par with any professional wrestler.  They also had a crappy vegetarian selection while my friends told me that their half a chicken and ribs was good.  While a lot of this was fun, my friends and I make fun of each other a lot.  Normally this is okay with and I happily join in, but after already feeling like shit, I wasn't in the mood.  Hearing your best friends tell you how the only way to get someone to date is you is to blatantly lie about yourself really hurt.  I seriously wanted to cry.  I feel like I have nothing going for me right now and to hear anyone making fun of that really hurt.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the end there was always the added good that I wasn't at work at all for an entire 2 and a half days.  That alone is awesome.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-5550691179362767611?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/5550691179362767611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=5550691179362767611&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5550691179362767611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5550691179362767611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/09/chicago.html' title='Chicago'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1aWNQ6WFZqE/Rt9cqQcLlaI/AAAAAAAAAAU/NHTdNQqaoFU/s72-c/HPIM0122.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-1809811207442779165</id><published>2007-08-28T11:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T20:03:21.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A life of poverty</title><content type='html'>Well I was just online last night and I decided to see how much my loan payment when up to this month. I am on a graduated payment plan and this is the month it goes up since I started paying a year ago. To say I was surprised is an understatement. My payments have nearly doubled and now went from painful to crippling. If I pay the payments I am supposed to I will be paying more than sixty percent of my net pay. After I researched online I found out that if I had defaulted on my loans and they garnished my wages they can only take at most fifteen percent of my net pay. Granted I can't default without destroying my parents credit and I won't do that. Why is it that trying to do the right and honest thing like paying your bills, is the one thing that no one wants to help you with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just sucks because I tried to be smart with money and not over barrow, but I honestly think I will now live in poverty for the rest of my life because I decided to go to college. I spent nearly eight years of my life to earn something that has done the exact opposite of what I thought it would. I am poorer and more unhappy than I was when I was just a dumb high school graduate. I just don't know what to do. It feels like I have everyone wanting me to fail and I just don't know how to deal with that. I really feel like I have no options left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-1809811207442779165?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/1809811207442779165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=1809811207442779165&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/1809811207442779165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/1809811207442779165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/08/life-of-poverty.html' title='A life of poverty'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-6090509011575596232</id><published>2007-08-12T20:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T20:46:43.426-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I posted a picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1aWNQ6WFZqE/Rr-kTe236cI/AAAAAAAAAAM/k6zkv5uf0Z8/s1600-h/HPIM0066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097973957814380994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1aWNQ6WFZqE/Rr-kTe236cI/AAAAAAAAAAM/k6zkv5uf0Z8/s320/HPIM0066.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is me pissed off and waiting in my car. I was waiting because my car had a flat tire. Normally this would just mean I get my ass out and change it, but I nearly got hit by car when I tried to change it. So after calling for help I waited for 45 minutes until someone got there. Now it was hot out today, about 85 to 90 degrees and I didn't have enough gas in my car to just let it run so I had to roll down the windows and wait.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I may not have been so mad, but I was already feeling like crap from the family reunion I was coming home from. I had to answer the question,"What are going to do now that you're done with school?" more times that I thought was humanly possible. I don't know what I am going to do with the rest of my life and I am okay with it. Unfortunately I am not okay with announcing to every that to near strangers I only see once a year. Life sucks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-6090509011575596232?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6090509011575596232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=6090509011575596232&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6090509011575596232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6090509011575596232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/08/yes-posted-picture.html' title='Yes, I posted a picture'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1aWNQ6WFZqE/Rr-kTe236cI/AAAAAAAAAAM/k6zkv5uf0Z8/s72-c/HPIM0066.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-6013514709722369742</id><published>2007-08-09T14:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T14:47:40.814-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduated</title><content type='html'>Just had to say that I learned that I passed my last class and graduated.  I still just barely made it, only getting a D, which was still enough I guess.  That's it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-6013514709722369742?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6013514709722369742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=6013514709722369742&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6013514709722369742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6013514709722369742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/08/graduated.html' title='Graduated'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4309315840225697288</id><published>2007-08-06T21:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T21:49:21.152-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday parties, Cash, and Freedom</title><content type='html'>Well I joined some of the people from work for Becky's birthday party.  It started at our place and a few games.  The game we started to play eventually progressed into a game of charades, which I won.  After some people leaving we walked downtown to the bars.  We had some drinks and a few laughs before the end of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I drove back to my parents' house.  My parents will be moving soon, and now I have to take everything I left when I moved out 5 years ago.  While packing up a ton of comic books and other old junk I found a box from my high school graduation party.  I was being a little sentimental and looked through the old cards.  The first one I picked up had a fifty dollar bill in it.  I looked through the other cards and found a total of seventy-five dollars and a thirty dollar check from my uncle who died five years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I forgot to pull out all the money when I packed everything up after the part seven years ago.  I used my newly found cash to pay for part of the digital camera I've been wanting.  I am glad I found the money, but feel really stupid for misplacing it for seven years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't know if I passed my last class and graduated until Thursday.  I don't really want to know now.  All I know is that I am done with college.  I have no desire or money to go back even if I failed.  If I did I think I would loose my will to live.  I refuse to keep working for something that has made me feel like shit for eight years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4309315840225697288?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4309315840225697288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4309315840225697288&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4309315840225697288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4309315840225697288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/08/birthday-parties-cash-and-freedom.html' title='Birthday parties, Cash, and Freedom'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-607959863953683265</id><published>2007-07-31T14:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T13:55:43.553-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='class'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life sucking'/><title type='text'>My life as it is</title><content type='html'>Well I must say I have been avoiding doing a post since my class is not going well right now. I may very well fail the class or just barely pass. The thought of admitting that in writing sucks. If I don't pass now I won't have the money, or the desire, to retake the class anytime soon. Also it would ruin my chance of get my student loans consolidated. Rather than deal with it I have been push on trying to study harder and make a go of it. Next week I'll see how well that worked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile I have been busy with work, our general manager was out last week, which left me in charge. Of course that means that everything went wrong almost immediately. We had a few pieces of equipment break and some real issues with the crew and managers. It didn't work out the way I thought it would. It kinda sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Becky is going to have her birthday on Friday and&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;I have done nothing to really get ready for it. I still have to clean and buy something to wear. Not to mention the fact that I work til 8 and it starts at 7. Nothing like coming to a party in your uniform and then taking a shower while the party is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I have to go home because my parents are moving. This means that my 8 or 9 boxes of comics will now have to be stored in my basement storage space. Also I am sure that there is alot more stuff that I can't even remember. In the end I am so glad that my mom is finally getting a better house. She so deserves it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started reading a the comic Secret War this week. I admit I bought it s while ago when Walden's was going out of business and didn't read it. It is so much better than I was expecting. I thought it would be like the team up book of the same title from the 80's, but this is completely different. The story has plots to overthrow foreign governments by international government agencies, cover ups, and my favorite super heroes. All in all it has been a surprisingly good read that helps me to understand the events of marvel comics' Civil War series that just ended with the death of Captain America.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-607959863953683265?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/607959863953683265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=607959863953683265&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/607959863953683265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/607959863953683265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-life-as-it-is.html' title='My life as it is'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-7935526987869692073</id><published>2007-07-15T21:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T21:26:22.742-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='and music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='debt'/><title type='text'>A Blah Day</title><content type='html'>Well today has been a day full of doing things I hate to do.  I woke up too late to go to church, so I decided to be useful and get everything done around the apartment that I have wanted to get done for weeks.  I have done dishes, cleaned the garbage can, did some extreme cleaning on my bathroom, did all my laundry, and cleaned my closet and bedroom.  The last project was the worst.  I still don't know if I am really done, I just know it is a lot better than before.  I thought having a walk in closet would be a great thing.  I must have assumed that this meant I could get more clothes, because I have.  Last August when we moved in I only needed half of the closet and know it is almost completely full.  I know this means I need to part with some clothes, but I finally feel like I have clothes that I like and don't feel like giving up anything, except maybe my uniforms, they take up a lot of space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also sat down and finished applying for a consolidation loan for my student loans.  The hope is that I can somehow can get to amount that I can afford to pay every month.  I was glad to find out even without my dad cosigning that I should be able to consolidate.  I just want my parents &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; out of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;financial&lt;/span&gt; situation.  Having my dad call me whenever I forget to pay the student loan sharks is annoying as hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also dealing with money I did something really stupid with about fifteen dollars of mine today.  I finally downloaded music from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;itunes&lt;/span&gt;.  I think I have sold my soul to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;corporate&lt;/span&gt; gods, but I found some music that I couldn't find anywhere else.  I feel stupid for it, but the more I listen to the songs the less I care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-7935526987869692073?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7935526987869692073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=7935526987869692073&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7935526987869692073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7935526987869692073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/07/blah-day.html' title='A Blah Day'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4776448082390527945</id><published>2007-07-12T14:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T14:53:22.249-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Burns, Cold Showers and My Stupidity.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I got burned at work.  A kid who is normally really good splashed grease from the fryer on my arm.  He apologized, but having 350 degree grease run down my arm made me less willing to accept his apology.  Now I have  several burns from my wrist to my elbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today I had to wake up early, 7:30.  I normally am okay with this, but I worked until two last night.  So after five hours of sleep I went to get up and stumble into the shower.  I turned on the water and it never got hot.  Hoping it was just a fluke I just decided to grab a bite to eat and start studying for my exam (the entire reason I was up early).  Well I can't wake up in the morning without a hot shower and some caffeine, so my studying quickly became falling back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called the real estate company that owns my building and they told me that they were replacing the water heaters today (like I hadn't figured that out already).  All they told me is that they would have it replaced sometime today.  Goddamn morons.  If they had let me know ahead of time I wouldn't have had to deal with this crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after a cold shower I had to take my exam that I don't think I did well.  I just don't really get this stuff.  My did I have to choose math as a major.  I can't seem to prove anything and I barely remember calculus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4776448082390527945?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4776448082390527945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4776448082390527945&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4776448082390527945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4776448082390527945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/07/burns-cold-showers-and-my-stupidity.html' title='Burns, Cold Showers and My Stupidity.'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4298399170539177155</id><published>2007-07-06T21:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T21:50:47.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Insane People are Everywhere</title><content type='html'>Today was pretty much a normal Friday at work. We were busy and then at around 2 everything calms down. Well at about 3 I was getting something to eat when the phone rang. Since I was the closest manager to the phone I picked it up and answered it. The next thing I know I have some crazy old lady getting upset with me. This is not uncommon, but her complaint was. She was upset because a register person asked her how she was doing. I was floored. I explained to her that they were just trying to be nice. That didn't help. She then began a 5 minute long rant about how asking her how her how she was doing was an invasion of privacy. I could just not reason with her, telling her that she was not obligated to answer was no help. She demanded that I stop anyone in the store from every asking that question again. I tried to let her know that I could not begin to guaranty that and then she demanded the number for our company office and said she would never be back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still just don't get it. We make our employees be nice and we get complaints that a totally insane. I just ought to let my crew people ask, "What the hell to you want?" I could work better&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4298399170539177155?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4298399170539177155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4298399170539177155&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4298399170539177155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4298399170539177155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/07/today-was-pretty-much-normal-friday-at.html' title='Stupid Insane People are Everywhere'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-58921048228521977</id><published>2007-07-01T19:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T20:30:21.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good news all around</title><content type='html'>Well I have just returned from spending the last 5 plus hours at the company picnic.  For the most part it was pretty fun.  Some of the 'cool kids' came so I didn't feel so alone.  I circulated the area and talked to someone from every store.  I even played kickball for a little while, although I was really bad.  Anyway it was cool.  I almost had to give a speech for our top crew person of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other good news is that I finally got promoted on Friday.  I am just glad for the little bit more pay that I'll be getting.  Like every other time I have gotten promoted I have that acknowledgement that I am already doing the job that I now have.  Wow do a job for a few months and then get the job, this makes no sense at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less happy, but still good news I am taking the analysis class that I need to graduate.  This is my last class and I will graduate in August.  The end to my 8 year struggle for my 4 year degree is in sight.  Unfortunately I still have to pass what for me is a really difficult class.  I just have to get a C, I'm aiming higher of course, but I'll settle for a C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even things with my Mom seem to be getting at least a little better.  Dad is seriously looking for a house for them and Mom is getting some help.  I honestly don't think Mom has sounded this okay around the anniversary of my brothers death.  So yeah for once the pessimist has a good day and this may be one of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-58921048228521977?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/58921048228521977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=58921048228521977&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/58921048228521977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/58921048228521977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/07/good-news-all-around.html' title='Good news all around'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4724640428042903877</id><published>2007-06-19T13:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T13:43:08.618-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing going on here....</title><content type='html'>Today is just one of those days that seems dull.  I have the day off of work, but I also have laundry and dishes to catch up on.  Nothing I would normally watch is on television for some odd reason and I can't stay focused enough to read more than two pages at a time.  Being with out any thing to do with my day I pulled out my Invader Zim DVDs.  God help me but I still love that cartoon.  I know it is stupid but it makes me feel better.  Of course now I will be quoting lines from Zim for a week. When you say things like, "Invader's blood runs through my veins like giant radioactive rubber pants," people tend to look at you a little strange.  Oh well the damage is done. &lt;br /&gt;     I decided to take the tickets to the baseball game from work.  They are from the season tickets our owner has to the Toledo Mudhens.  I just figure if I don't use them no one will.  True or not that is how I have decided to rationalize it.&lt;br /&gt;     Winter came with to see the new Fantastic Four move last Thursday night.  It was really great.  The plot was better than the last movie and it was true enough to the spirit of the comics to please me which isn't easy.  Although I have to say seeing Jessica Alba in a movie is normally enough to draw me to the theater.  I admit I have had more than a small thing for her since she was in Dark Angel.  I did see on television that the movie was the top grossing movie of the weekend by far.  So at least I am not alone in liking it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4724640428042903877?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4724640428042903877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4724640428042903877&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4724640428042903877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4724640428042903877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/06/nothing-going-on-here.html' title='Nothing going on here....'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-875757128907215302</id><published>2007-06-11T20:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T20:43:26.709-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Once a dork always a dork</title><content type='html'>Well in the last few weeks my mom has gotten out of the hospital (again) and I have started back to work.  I really was so thankful to get back to work.  Anything that helped me get back to a life that was a little more normal.  Granted work kinda sucks, but you can't have everything.  I did get some really great news in the last few weeks, my friends Jon and Maria are going to have another baby.  I am so happy for them,  so far all they know is that it is due in mid December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also my extra week off work resulted in my getting promoted being delayed more than a week.  Supposedly I can take care of that by visiting and observing at another store on Thursday.  Which means I can have slightly less mediocre pays and an equally sad and sorry title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It my time waiting in hospital waiting rooms I read most of the comics I bought on vacation and started a book called "Jerks at Work" which I found a little less funny than I thought, but good enough to pass the time.  I also found a bunch of old pictures from my junior prom and work pictures from work.  I was very ugly in high school and had really bad hair.  It was sad.  Nothing like spending time at home and finding reminders that you were always a dork.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-875757128907215302?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/875757128907215302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=875757128907215302&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/875757128907215302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/875757128907215302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/06/once-dork-always-dork.html' title='Once a dork always a dork'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-8187812415462070467</id><published>2007-05-30T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T23:25:53.789-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nervous breakdowns and despair</title><content type='html'>My mom had a nervous breakdown on our way back from vacation.  We had to admit mom to a mental hospital that she just was released from today.  I feel alone and like I a going to be trapped here.  I always felt like I was the one holding everything together when I lived at home and I feel guilty not being at home the last five years.  I know I am not at fault for this, but I still feel like I am.  My dad has been almost no help at all.  He says he cares, but just refuses to admit that anything is wrong.  I just don't know what to do anymore.  I feel like I have to take care of everything, but every time I try I just can't figure out a way to make things work out.  This sucks and I just want a way out.  I am twenty-five years old, how can this be my life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-8187812415462070467?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8187812415462070467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=8187812415462070467&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8187812415462070467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8187812415462070467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/05/nervous-breakdowns-and-despair.html' title='Nervous breakdowns and despair'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4614629981214899854</id><published>2007-05-16T18:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T18:45:14.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not a morning person</title><content type='html'>I know I am being a baby, but I hate opening.  It means me getting up at 5 am to go work and work with some of our more annoying crew and serve some of our more annoying customers.  This week I have to open 4 out of 5 days and I hate it.  Everyday I want to fall asleep earlier. Yesterday I was falling asleep on the couch at 5:30 in the evening.  I feel like an eighty year old man falling asleep that early.  I am not a morning person and the amount of caffeine I have to consume to function at that hour can't be healthy.  With just to more days until &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vacation&lt;/span&gt; I am thinking I just be glad to not be woken by my alarm clock buzzing.  With tomorrow being my one day not to open I was more than a little upset to realize I would have to go in early tomorrow morning to work on the schedule.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4614629981214899854?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4614629981214899854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4614629981214899854&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4614629981214899854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4614629981214899854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/05/im-not-morning-person.html' title='I&apos;m not a morning person'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-6642043546451041207</id><published>2007-05-02T06:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T07:07:33.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Time No Blog</title><content type='html'>Alright I haven't written anything in nearly a month, and haven't written anything interesting in far longer.  What can I say, I've been busy.  Somehow my 50 hour work work week has eased into a less comfortable 60 hour week.  I find myself at work on my days off for several hours.  Last week I was a work every single day.  I felt like shooting myself on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile I am hoping to get promoted to the job I'm already doing.  This seems to be what always happens to me.  I see we need some to do a job and I do it, then I spend six months doing all of this extra work before anyone realizes what I've been doing.  Before I was an assistant manager I was doing the crew schedule and the order for almost a year before I was told that I really shouldn't have been doing either in the position I was in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, my closet is finally fixed.  For the last few months my clothes have been sitting in a pile on a futon in my bedroom.  It is not fixed due to our diligent maintanice staff, but because my dad got sick of my complaining about it and came up to fix it.  I didn't tell him I could have really done it myself, assuming I actually tryed.  Oh well, it made him feel useful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the my best bit of news, I have vacation in three weeks.  This is huge since I haven't had two days off in a row since my vacation to Canada in August.  The thought of being several states away from my everyday life sounds unbelievable right now.  I can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-6642043546451041207?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6642043546451041207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=6642043546451041207&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6642043546451041207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6642043546451041207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/05/long-time-no-blog.html' title='Long Time No Blog'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4397987932965251262</id><published>2007-04-09T21:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T21:55:05.366-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>Well I finally made it home for Easter and it was a unique experience.  I went to church with my family on Sunday morning, the service was even duller than I remember that church being.  Then we all head over to my Grandma's house for lunch.  Now lunch wasn't until twelve-thirty so it was kind of odd when my brother stumbled in at one.  When I say stumble I mean stumble seeing as how he was extremely hung over.  We started to eat and while everyone was eating enough to feed a small nation my brother ate about two bites of mashed potatoes.  Being ever the loving brother I make fun of him and talk really loud around him the entire afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right after lunch we all sat in the living room and talked and it got to be even more fun.  My brother started taking about the bar he has been frequenting.  I seems he has been getting into bull riding.  Not a mechanical bull, but a real bull.  As he began to tell me how a bull throw him into a pole at this point I just began yelling, "Are you stupid?"  You have to understand that I am very uncoordinated and as bad as I am my brother is worse, so hearing that he is trying to ride bulls is the dumbest thing I have heard in years.  So any time my brother would talk about riding a bull I just said "You're stupid".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought that I was doing good when I was finally driving back to my apartment.  Even though everyone was cut me off and slamming on their breaks I still was getting doing well.  I even had time to call Winter about her first day as a manager, but then when I finally parked my car I realized how big a mistake I made.  I forgot my bag of bathroom stuff.  I call my mom and assure her that I don't need her to run it the hour and a half up to me.  Not until I when to the store to replace everything did I realize I had no glasses.  Damn now I have to wear my old glasses from like four years ago.  I miss my nerdy glasses already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4397987932965251262?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4397987932965251262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4397987932965251262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4397987932965251262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4397987932965251262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/04/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-5230394902855462850</id><published>2007-04-07T13:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T14:23:53.274-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Annoying Girl with Scissors</title><content type='html'>Today I made the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;decision&lt;/span&gt; to get my hair cut.  It had been about eight weeks since I got it cut, which for me is about four weeks too long.  So I walk in to the place I usually go and they take me back right away.  The girl started talking as soon as she had me sit down.  Normally this is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pleasant&lt;/span&gt; small talk, this time however this girl would not shut up.  She started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;innocently&lt;/span&gt; enough by saying something about her messed up family.  Trying to be nice (unusual I know) I told a little bit about how messed up my family is.  Big mistake, she then told me EVERYTHING about her family.  I know her brother is in jail and seeing this insane woman who stole her car.................and on and on for fifteen minutes until I wanted to die.  I think I need to take Winter's advice and she the woman who cuts her hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In work news our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Co Manager&lt;/span&gt; got promoted to the General Manager of another store.  He was so happy because they nearly had to beg him to take it.  This means that I will stuck at the same store, but in hopefully just a few weeks I will be promoted to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Co Manager&lt;/span&gt;.  This means I'll be second in charge of the store which is a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt;.  I've never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;officially&lt;/span&gt; been in that position before so we'll have to see how that works out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-5230394902855462850?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/5230394902855462850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=5230394902855462850&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5230394902855462850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5230394902855462850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/04/annoying-girl-with-scissors.html' title='The Annoying Girl with Scissors'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-5725299279184176114</id><published>2007-03-26T13:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T13:41:39.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am the Terminator</title><content type='html'>Well it just seemed like an ordinary slow night at work.  Everything was fine, midnight came and I closed the store.  Then an idiot I had as a closer kept moving slower.  I did most of his work and then went into office to start my own.  When he finally finished his close he came to me to complain about our other closer.  Well I just shrugged my shoulders and closed the office door.  I finished my work and looked up through the window in the office.  Well I saw two yelling at each other.  I stood back for a few seconds hoping they would sort it all out.  Next thing I know the idiot is threatening to beat up the other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do?  I start yelling at the both of them to shut up and get over it.  The idiot yells and me and says how I'm always against him (which is true).  I am usually a little more calm than this, but my personal rule is if you yell at me, I yell back.  It is childish but it is what it is.  Of course if you yell and scream at your boss you should know what will happen next.  I fired him.  Yeah me.  When I called into work this morning to explain the situation and I was pretty much complimented on firing him.  So one more is added to the long list people I've fired, but this one really deserved it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-5725299279184176114?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/5725299279184176114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=5725299279184176114&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5725299279184176114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/5725299279184176114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-am-terminator.html' title='I Am the Terminator'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-6493601823732278262</id><published>2007-03-12T21:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T22:32:25.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Fabulous Day Off</title><content type='html'>Well Saturday I was on my way to work and my mom called me.  She wanted to come up for a visit.  We both thought that her coming up on Sunday afternoon was a good idea.  Well I had it all planned out to got to church on Sunday morning and then come home and clean.  Everything was going well, I was finishing cleaning and had walked in my bedroom when it happened.  The mother of all crashing sounds came out of my closet and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;slammed&lt;/span&gt; the closet door shut.  After I crawled off of the ceiling I opened my closet door to look at the horror.  An entire shelf in my closet had ripped itself out of the wall and spilled my clothes, half of my comics, and a ton of plaster everywhere.  Of course this was a half an hour before my mom got to town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when mom got to town we went around looking for some shelves to hold my comics, since I obviously wasn't going to use closet shelves again.  I wasn't really paying attention to how large the shelf was and it barely fit in my car.  I then had to wait for a half an hour until Winter got home to help me carry it up and put it together.  Not being the "handy" one she really did most of the assembly.  Ah the shame.  I love my days of they suck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-6493601823732278262?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/6493601823732278262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=6493601823732278262&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6493601823732278262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/6493601823732278262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-fabulous-day-off.html' title='My Fabulous Day Off'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-8890268389540511593</id><published>2007-03-08T09:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T10:43:46.169-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Promotions and Plots</title><content type='html'>Well work has been a battle lately.  Monday I came in and I had only two out of six people actually show up.  One called off, one was in the hospital, one had a friend who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;committed&lt;/span&gt; suicide, and one person was scheduled when they went home for spring break.  I called Laura from our store on the other side of town and we met up to talk after we both got off.  After talking and complaining until almost 4 we both felt better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday we had our manager meeting.  It was then that they dropped a bomb, our co-manager had been offered the GM position at another store.  The biggest shock was that he turned it down.  You see this manager doesn't exactly hide the fact that he to be General Manager, in fact he seems power mad at times.  It turns out the major reason for him turning it down was that it was over a 45 minute drive each way.  Now my first comment when I heard this was to shout "I'll go, I'll go." like I was a little kid.  I am so willing to drive nearly a half hour everyday to make an extra $7000 a year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I found out that he also turned down the position hoping that our GM would be sent to the other store and he would be our new GM.  This does mean I would move up the ladder and make $2000 more a year, but I would answer directly to him and that could be difficult.  I like the guy just fine, but as it is now he is my boss but he isn't the main person in charge.  I just find that I enjoy the freedom I have with our current GM and am not quite ready to give that up no matter how much money I get.  This job sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-8890268389540511593?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8890268389540511593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=8890268389540511593&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8890268389540511593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8890268389540511593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/03/promotions-and-plots.html' title='Promotions and Plots'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-7967005042708256834</id><published>2007-02-17T12:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T12:39:44.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blizzards and Meltdowns</title><content type='html'>Well we survived the blizzard and it wasn't so bad.  Nothing to eventful happened because of the snow.  I didn't work Wednesday so I didn't have to go out in most of it.  I did venture out in the afternoon to get groceries and pizza.  When I came home I managed to get my car stuck.  Had it not been for the kindness of some passing motorists (I blocked the road so they had to help move me) I would have be in some trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been a mess all week.  Jay, one of or newer managers, got sent to another store after Monday when someone over there got fired.  I tried to be sad about it, but we really didn't need him at our store.  I keep having near breakdowns because some of the other managers just leave and the whole store is a disaster.  Last night two managers were off at 8 and when they left I was out of everything and I was short one person.  It took me an hour to get everything caught up.  I was pissed.  After we closed I took everyone out to Tim Horton's and we stayed til 3.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-7967005042708256834?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/7967005042708256834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=7967005042708256834&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7967005042708256834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/7967005042708256834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/02/blizzards-and-meltdowns.html' title='Blizzards and Meltdowns'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-8153718111029337383</id><published>2007-02-04T19:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T20:17:53.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Blahs</title><content type='html'>Well after starting no less than 4 posts in the last two weeks, I have finally committed to finishing one of them. Life is still dull. The laundry wars continue with more weirdness. This time with a bitchy girl finding my spare car key she found in a dryer. Work is still work. I put in more time, money, and effort and get back crap. The two new managers are having problems, word is if they don't shape up soon they're done. This sucks because they are good people, but not the best managers yet. Also at work I went on a bit of a firing spree. In a few weeks I fired, or tried to fire, 3 people. Unfortunately some of them did not stay fired, but that is another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can register for my last class in a week which I can't wait for. The thought of being done with college is thrilling. I am 25 and have been in college since I was 17, I am beyond ready to be done. The fact that my friends who are several years younger than me will graduate before is depressing. Sigh, just like my job my education is also a disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another disappointment is that my favorite band, Relient K, has a great new single out that I can't find anywhere but on their myspace page.  The disappointment lies in the fact that even then on the page you can't download it.  Searching for it on iTunes was useless too, I have to wait for the new CD to come out in March.  No problem except that I am a horribly impatient person.  That makes life just grand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-8153718111029337383?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/8153718111029337383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=8153718111029337383&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8153718111029337383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/8153718111029337383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/02/winter-blahs.html' title='Winter Blahs'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-2737591435972276422</id><published>2007-01-17T14:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T20:18:53.527-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate my job</title><content type='html'>Well after a great weekend I thought that I was set for the week. Wrong! Work has sucked. It seems like there is conflict at every turn. A few of the crew people have just been really annoying this week. I even yelled at someone for bitching that I was making her use "dirty" towels. Of course after all of that I had one of the most difficult lunches ever been a part of. We were short people for the shift and no one would come in. Then my register people started screwing up I just gave up on them and took over. It sucked. Then my General Manager was late for her shift. To top if all off I was stuck there an extra two hours after my shift for a meeting. It was like the day that wouldn't end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I finally got off of work I went with Winter to just get out of this town. We got a something to eat and went home, but even a day later just thinking about those people pisses me off. I hate that anyone can make that angry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-2737591435972276422?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2737591435972276422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=2737591435972276422&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2737591435972276422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2737591435972276422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-hate-my-job.html' title='I Hate my job'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-2173433680330714708</id><published>2007-01-10T14:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T15:18:23.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blood, Stupidity, and Laundry</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Well in the last week I have been a little busy. Last Friday I cut myself with a box knife and nearly passed out. Everyone said to go to the hospital, but I didn't. Turns out that just like I said I was fine. In a day it was all closed up and now a week later it looks like a scratch. Yesterday I had someone show up at work an hour and a half late. After I told him that I would write him up he started swearing and crying at the same time. After seeing this manager took him out of the building. Apparently he hates me and wanted to beat the shit out of me. You know the usual. So in the end instead of being written up he was fired. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Meanwhile the Laundry Wars continue in my building. Since moving to this building trying to do laundry has been a real annoying situation. Normally this is just means people doing two loads of laundry for 5 hours or taking my wet clothes out of the drying and shoving in their own. Today I was about 5 or 6 minutes late to pull out my laundry, normally this would mean I my laundry is in a pile on a dryer. Instead, I find my clothes neatly folded on a dryer. It just is a little creepy to know that a strange person was folding my clothes. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-2173433680330714708?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/2173433680330714708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=2173433680330714708&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2173433680330714708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/2173433680330714708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/01/blood-stupidity-and-laundry.html' title='Blood, Stupidity, and Laundry'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-4335550760807028951</id><published>2007-01-01T19:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T20:58:23.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Year with the Same Old Stuff</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;everybody&lt;/span&gt;. Thanks to a ten hour shift on new year's eve, my celebration was kind of lacking. I worked from 6 to 4 and I was so tired that I was dozing off at 10 o'clock. Not that I had big plans, but being awake would have been a good start. So new years kind of sucked. Oh well better luck next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas was good though. I made out like a bandit. My family is into giving cash as a gift which is a help given my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;pre-christmas&lt;/span&gt; spending spree. Of my other gifts I didn't do half bad either. My personal favorite came from Winter, the entire series of Invader &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Zim&lt;/span&gt;. This is a repayment for my gift to her of season three of Arrested Development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been particularly tough these last couple of weeks because of the fact that almost everyone sucks. I know that there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of new people at work and of course they will suck, but nearly everyone else can't do anything. If these people don't get better soon I'll just lock myself in the office and scream for a few hours. Or whatever stops the murderous urges.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-4335550760807028951?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/4335550760807028951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=4335550760807028951&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4335550760807028951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/4335550760807028951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-yeat-with-same-old-stuff.html' title='A New Year with the Same Old Stuff'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116692069634486180</id><published>2006-12-23T19:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-23T19:38:16.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Two Five</title><content type='html'>That is it as of yesterday I am twenty-five. This really wouldn't bother me, but about a month ago I realized that half of my twenties would be over. I always thought by this point in my life I would have my life more together, ya know. I have got a shit job, no girlfriend, and a mountain of debt. Ah the life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the day started out badly when I woke up at 6:05. The problem is that I was supposed to be at work at 6. Once I got to work things didn't really get any better. I managed to get through the day somehow. Anyway I did get to actually try to have fun on my birthday. I went out with Winter, and Le, La, and their roommate. After a few shots and a few drinks I at least felt a little less depressed. There is nothing like drinking and eating chocolate cake at 1 in the morning. The joys of adulthood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116692069634486180?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116692069634486180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116692069634486180&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116692069634486180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116692069634486180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/12/big-two-five.html' title='The Big Two Five'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116651541747740654</id><published>2006-12-19T02:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T03:03:37.493-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my God, He's bald</title><content type='html'>Okay the day started out kind of bad with me waking up at 9 and not being able to get back to sleep. Then after I had gotten around and taken my car to be fixed I had the great idea to get my hair cut. I had recently had the bad idea of growing out my hair a little. This was dumb because my hair becomes an unruly wavy mess. Anyway I just wanted my hair cut so I when to the same place I usually do. I showed her how long I wanted my hair to be and then I took off my glasses and let her start. I knew it was bad when it took so long. My hair although a little long for me was still short and a long haircut should have been under ten minutes, but this one was more than twenty. By the time my glasses were back on it was too late, the damage was done. I look like I got a buzz cut. I haven't had my hair this short since I was in the sixth grade. I feel bald and naked. For once I am glad I have to wear a hat to work. I will now be stuck with this now for at least a month, yeah me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116651541747740654?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116651541747740654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116651541747740654&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116651541747740654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116651541747740654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/12/oh-my-god-hes-bald.html' title='Oh my God, He&apos;s bald'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116639507025572680</id><published>2006-12-17T17:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T17:37:50.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No posts, No apologies</title><content type='html'>Well I want to say that I haven't had the time to post, but the truth is that I haven't had more to write about. My life has been very dull. I have been working a lot and I just finished finals this week, but still I just haven't had much to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life still kind of sucks. My (newer) car just wouldn't start today. Of course it was with a car full of friends in a Target parking lot so I had plenty of people to make fun of me. Ah, the joys of friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have a ton of Christmas shopping to do. I only have bought gifts for Winter and a few people at work done. Now that I have no car at least for a day that means it has to take even longer to get done so I will be shopping only days before Christmas. What fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116639507025572680?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116639507025572680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116639507025572680&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116639507025572680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116639507025572680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/12/no-posts-no-apologies.html' title='No posts, No apologies'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116526033622972746</id><published>2006-12-04T14:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T14:27:10.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Friday</title><content type='html'>Alright it was a busy few weeks lately. Work has sucked and life in general has been some what depressing. I've been broke all week due to the student loan sharks making me pay two months of payments at once. Everyone at work is getting fired faster than we can train new people so that makes work suck even more than usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One hilarious thing happened Friday night. I needed to do a load of laundry for uniforms to wear to work, so I walk through the laundry room door to find eight people playing hacky sack. I had to force my way through the small crowd to get to a washer. I got my laundry in and ran up stairs and laughed for a few minutes. It wasn't just that they were playing hacky sack at 9 o'clock in a laundry room, it was the assortment of losers that were there that made it funny. These were some early twenties stoners that obviously had nothing better to do on a Friday night. Although I guess I shouldn't say much since I was doing laundry and watching season two of Arrested Development. How sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116526033622972746?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116526033622972746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116526033622972746&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116526033622972746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116526033622972746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/12/sad-friday.html' title='Sad Friday'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116450540625011133</id><published>2006-11-25T20:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T23:57:07.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>Well Thanksgiving is over, thank you Jesus. It was an especially awkward year for me since I was asked the usual questions, "When are you graduating?", "Do you still work at Wendy's?", "What do you mean you don't eat meat?". Nothing like family to make you feel even more like a looser. By the end of the meal I thought of shooting myself in the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from the "lovely" conversation it wasn't really so bad I guess. I got a ton of laundry done for free, I had two days in a row off of work, and I got to see my family. I was also reminded how invisible I can be to my own family. I guess I don't stand out so much. I'm not the trouble maker, or the criminal, or anything that stands out so much. My Aunt Louanne didn't even know I was there for half an hour. Also I find it weird how at every holiday people, including my own father forget that I have been a vegetarian for a decade now. My family is so observant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I finally am getting ready to leave for BG and get a call from work saying that the grill is down and they are short handed. I give them the best advise that I can on how to fix and spend the next 4 hours dreading going to work. Finally, when I go to work I am greeted by smorgesborg of crap. Nothing is done, service times suck, and everyone still needs a break. At least then I knew my dread was justified. Anyway we got by and made it work with significantly less bitching than the manager I took over for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116450540625011133?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116450540625011133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116450540625011133&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116450540625011133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116450540625011133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116346685647419392</id><published>2006-11-13T19:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T20:15:46.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, I may be a horrible person</title><content type='html'>Alright there is this girl I met at church about a month ago. My friends have made sure to sit by this girl every week now. Well this Sunday I caved and did something I should probably be ashamed of. I used Jeffrey, my godson, to get her to pay attention to me. I know it was low, but it really worked. Thanks to Jeffrey paving the way we talked for about a half an hour after church. She even knows about my job and didn't walk away laughing like I expected. My friends and I still couldn't get her to join us for lunch, but at least there is more hope now. Besides I could always pull out the baby again, could you say no to this face?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1182/3994/1600/1164076030_l.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1182/3994/320/1164076030_l.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1182/3994/1600/1164076030_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116346685647419392?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116346685647419392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116346685647419392&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116346685647419392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116346685647419392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/11/okay-i-may-be-horrible-person.html' title='Okay, I may be a horrible person'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116331207011662159</id><published>2006-11-12T00:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T01:14:30.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>College Towns Suck</title><content type='html'>I have grown accustomed to life in a college town after more than four years in BG, but I have admit that I hate this town. The fact that since it is a Saturday night means that I have to be kept awake by screaming drunks running down the street is my breaking point. Maybe at two or three in the morning I expect it, but at midnight? What kind of cheap drunk are you to be wasted and walking home at midnight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The massive drinking aside I still hate this town. The locals are the most horrible results of inbreeding that I can imagine. I seriously think that someone decided to put a college here as a joke. Really how can one little town have so many people with Phd's and IQ's under 25?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my final point of contention is the fact that since this is a college town no one thinks that they need to pay anyone reasonable wages. I understand not paying an unreliable useless person much, but why not the hard working people with experience? Just because you have people who will work for less doesn't mean they are the best people for the job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116331207011662159?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116331207011662159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116331207011662159&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116331207011662159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116331207011662159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/11/college-towns-suck_11.html' title='College Towns Suck'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116314667621320105</id><published>2006-11-10T03:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T03:17:56.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a car</title><content type='html'>Yes the time of me calling for a ride to work is over. I found an affordable car. Although it took a few weeks I think I can be happy with it now. I've never not had a car for that long. It sucked. Now I need to catch up with everyone I couldn't see for two weeks, like my godson, my friends, my family, and of course the comic guy at the mall. I haven't bought a comic in almost three weeks now, I think I feel ill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I must say how angry I have become with ABC. Are they nuts????? Lost was only on for six weeks and that was supposed to be a season? Now I have to wait for three more months to see another new episode. It figures there would be some amount of torture invovled in watching a new show, but this may be too much. Damn, I hate that they have so hooked me that I know that I will still wait for three months. Stupid interesting plots and realistic people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116314667621320105?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116314667621320105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116314667621320105&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116314667621320105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116314667621320105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-have-car.html' title='I have a car'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116288542713589834</id><published>2006-11-07T02:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T02:43:47.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you really make me feel worse??</title><content type='html'>As ever I am glad to have tomorrow off work. After being screamed at for several minutes by an angry customer, I felt like shit. It really surprised me that I felt that bad normally I would just get mad, bitch about it and go on with my day. I think why I felt this bad was that it seemed like kicking me while I was down. My life is going through a really bad phase right now and I just wasn't up to it. I really thought I would cry for a few minutes there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the people in this town they are just ungrateful selfish assholes. I already have job I don't like, my car is dead, I'm in debt up to my eyeballs, do you really need to make me feel worse? Next time someone needs to take something out take up boxing or see a therapist and leave me alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116288542713589834?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116288542713589834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116288542713589834&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116288542713589834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116288542713589834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/11/can-you-really-make-me-feel-worse.html' title='Can you really make me feel worse??'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116258389196255013</id><published>2006-11-03T14:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T15:00:24.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look out for that ........</title><content type='html'>As usual when my life is bad it has to get worse. Well Wednesday I started out the day by being an hour late for work. This lead to my district manager watching over all day. I had one person just not show up for work. It wasn't a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then yesterday my mom and brother show up to help me find a car. I had no luck. Everything I could afford was shit. I know I don't have much money, but come on its not like I'm looking for a buried treasure. Anyway I have to go so I can walk to work now. Maybe my luck continues I may get hit by a car on the way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116258389196255013?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116258389196255013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116258389196255013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116258389196255013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116258389196255013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/11/look-out-for-that.html' title='Look out for that ........'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116234651177098920</id><published>2006-10-31T20:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T21:01:51.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mourning my car and a visit</title><content type='html'>So my life sucks. My car is dead. I can either spend $2000 and fix it or get a new car. I'm going with option B. Thankfully Winter was good enough to drive me around town to look at cars. I found two options, but nothing that I really want to buy. After calling my mom I may now have my brother driving to BG to help me find a car. This is scary not only because all of his cars have been shit, but also because this is the second time in over 4 years he has ever visited me. I have a sneaking suspicion that it may have more to do with the large amount of bars in this college town. I just hope his visit is short, because I will not have his drunk ass camped out on my sofa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116234651177098920?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116234651177098920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116234651177098920&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116234651177098920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116234651177098920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/10/mourning-my-car-and-visit.html' title='Mourning my car and a visit'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116222688369809990</id><published>2006-10-30T11:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T11:48:03.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Car trouble</title><content type='html'>Well another weekend is over and I am convinced that I need to stay locked in my bedroom from friday until monday.  I had a horrible day at work on saturday, which is normal for me when I open.  I still don't understand how everyone I work with goes retarded on the weekends and forgets how to do their jobs, but they do.  After work I went to a Halloween party at my friend Jason's house.  It was alright, a little dull, but alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning I get up early and get ready to go to church.  As I get out of the shower I realize that I am an hour early since daylight savings time is over.  Since I was already up and showered I went with it and spent some extra time reading and watching tv before I left.  I finally got to church and meet up with some friends in Toledo.  After several hours of enjoying myself I leave to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I am getting on the highway to go home my car's oil light goes on and my car dies.  I call my friends to pick me up and after a few phone calls get a tow truck to hawl off my car.  I had no idea where to have my car fixed so I had the place that towed it recomend where to tow it.  Now I have no idea what is wrond with my car, how much it will cost, or when it will be done.  Having to relie on people for rides sucks.  My wonderful roomate I am sure will soon be sick of this and most likely kill me.  My friends will stop calling.  My life may soon be over.  I need my car back in working order.  Now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116222688369809990?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116222688369809990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116222688369809990&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116222688369809990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116222688369809990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/10/car-trouble.html' title='Car trouble'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116193199302723550</id><published>2006-10-27T02:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T02:53:13.036-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I an Asshole?</title><content type='html'>I don't get people at all. I just told a kid at work I don't care what how people feel and he got so mad at me he wouldn't talk to me. What the hell does it matter if I care how you feel? Really I know no one wants to know how I feel, including me, why then should I care how random people feel. As long as I know I'm not trying to hurt your feelings I don't care if you feel bad. Get a thicker skin people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This leads me to my next point, why are people so emotional around me lately? Is a hello from me now a code for go to hell? Not that I don't enjoy making the occasional person cry, it is rather fun, but really what is up? Winter is almost here and it sucks, but GET OVER IT. Life goes on even if your miserable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116193199302723550?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116193199302723550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116193199302723550&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116193199302723550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116193199302723550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/10/am-i-asshole.html' title='Am I an Asshole?'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116113197962199240</id><published>2006-10-17T20:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T20:39:39.630-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Long Weekend (And not the Good Kind)</title><content type='html'>This was my last weekend working all weekend since we now have a new manager bring us up to 4 managers. What was really weird was that I opened Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Well this meant that I couldn't do anything because I had to get up at 5 everyday. I still managed to make it out for laser tag with some people from work on Saturday night, although I didn't get much sleep that night.&lt;br /&gt;Then there was work. Both Saturday and Sunday were miserable. I had people call in both days and of course we were ungodly busy all day long. Saturday I had to spend 2 and a half hours after work getting various items from other stores to make it through the weekend. I even drove to our store in Oregon on Navare. Let's just say I feel better about my store now. It was bad. Sunday was even worse than Saturday. I seriously wanted to cry. We were so busy and we had no one there working. After it was over I still had to call in two people in early to make it all work.&lt;br /&gt;Well after three 6am to 4 pm shifts I have a day off. Unfortunately I had to miss out on Layla's 21st birthday celebration, or the a night of excessive drinking. I only got to meet them and have a shot with them before they left at around midnight. By that time I was ready to go to bed. I only was awake about ten minutes before I fell asleep. Life sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116113197962199240?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116113197962199240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116113197962199240&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116113197962199240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116113197962199240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/10/long-weekend-and-not-good-kind.html' title='A Long Weekend (And not the Good Kind)'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35829837.post-116053397120211657</id><published>2006-10-10T22:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T22:32:51.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello</title><content type='html'>Well this is it, my new blog isn't it pretty? Anyway I hope not to let this be my on going bitch session, but if that is what it becomes so be it. Long story short, I am a geek. Not just any geek a comic geek. I can go on for hours about comic book related issues and all in geek jargon.&lt;br /&gt;   Also I work at a fast food restaurant. I hate it, but I have no idea what to do with my life next so I am still there.&lt;br /&gt;   That is my life in a nutshell so hopefully you enjoy something you'll read here soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35829837-116053397120211657?l=precrisis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/feeds/116053397120211657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35829837&amp;postID=116053397120211657&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116053397120211657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35829837/posts/default/116053397120211657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://precrisis.blogspot.com/2006/10/hello.html' title='Hello'/><author><name>Steve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07432865545153889164</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
