<?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-5874313810697616893</id><updated>2011-05-22T06:07:45.212-07:00</updated><category term='China'/><category term='news'/><category term='Yankees'/><category term='Beijing'/><category term='death'/><category term='ads'/><category term='loss'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='community'/><category term='campaign'/><category term='art'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='linkedin'/><category term='bridesmaid'/><category term='etsy'/><category term='artist'/><category term='travel'/><category term='current events'/><category term='Buffalo'/><category term='sports'/><category term='weddings'/><category term='leader'/><category term='humor'/><category term='growing up'/><category term='commercials'/><category term='baseball'/><category term='adulthood'/><category term='facebook'/><category term='business'/><category term='crush'/><category term='Polish'/><category term='glass ceiling'/><category term='policy'/><category term='school'/><category term='Tim Russert'/><category term='salary'/><category term='beatles'/><category term='red nose day'/><category term='relocation'/><category term='San Franciso'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='design'/><category term='Jimmy Griffin'/><category term='Chinese people'/><category term='equal pay'/><category term='love'/><category term='sadness'/><category term='cheer'/><category term='purses'/><category term='education'/><category term='Sudan'/><category term='reflection'/><category term='lessons'/><category term='Thanksgiving'/><category term='advertising'/><category term='inspiration'/><category term='inauguration'/><category term='stella mccartney'/><category term='Boston'/><category term='charity'/><category term='issues'/><category term='sushi'/><category term='nightmares'/><category term='paul mccartney'/><category term='Obama'/><category term='football'/><category term='learning'/><category term='massage'/><category term='compulsive'/><category term='women'/><category term='Olympics'/><category term='britain'/><category term='handmade'/><category term='thankful'/><category term='politics'/><category term='California'/><category term='culture'/><category term='New York City'/><category term='athletes'/><category term='careers'/><category term='Dyngus Day'/><category term='imagination'/><category term='relaxation'/><category term='life'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='super bowl'/><category term='food'/><category term='eating'/><category term='twitter'/><category term='history'/><category term='random thoughts'/><category term='public relations'/><category term='men'/><category term='social media'/><category term='Anthropologie'/><category term='U.S.'/><category term='human'/><title type='text'>Brown Eyed Girl</title><subtitle type='html'>Hey there amigo</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-5387905918814780624</id><published>2009-06-01T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T12:13:41.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Really Goode Job</title><content type='html'>Hello my long lost blog! I haven't posted anything here in a long time because I've been busy working on a professional resume blog. It took a lot of work, but it's finally ready to be shared with the world. Check it out at&lt;a href="http://erincollins.wordpress.com"&gt; http://erincollins.wordpress.com&lt;/a&gt; and feel free to send it around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much has happened in the past few months. I started a twitter account, my user name is &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/erbear83"&gt;@erbear&lt;/a&gt; if you're interested in my ramblings in 140 characters or less. Softball season started and our team is currently 0-4, but last week's game was lost in OT so it doesn't really count. I went to see Dave Matthews Band and it was a fantastic, albeit soggy show. Oh, and I lost my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's right. I got laid off thanks to the economy and budget issues with my former employer. And it hurt. But, there is no time to wallow in misery (although wallow is a fun word). The job search is in high gear, I'm looking for public relations, marketing and communications jobs all over the place. Ideally, I'd like to get an awesome job that pays fabulously in San Francisco but we'll see how that goes. I also like New York, Washington D.C., Boston and Chicago. I'm not completely opposed to staying in Buffalo either if the right opportunity comes along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is unless I get my dream job. Check this out, Murphy-Goode winery in Sonoma County is holding a contest for &lt;a href="http://www.areallygoodejob.com/overview.aspx"&gt;A Really Goode Job&lt;/a&gt;. They're looking for a social media guru to be their Wine Country Lifestyle Correspondent for six months. The winning applicant gets to learn from the wine making experts, explore the vineyard and surrounding areas, and use social media to promote the winery and tell everyone about their adventures. They pay isn't bad either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the help of my friends Nikki, Jesse and Jeremy Horst, I made a video to submit. It's pretty funny, at least we think so. Please vote for me and if I win, you can visit! Watch the video and vote &lt;a href="http://www.areallygoodejob.com/video-view.aspx?vid=4I9VympDHPk"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. My favorite part is the wine bottle guy. All of the artwork was one by Jesse Horst, he's an awesome artist. Check him at at &lt;a href="http://www.jdhorst.com"&gt;www.jdhorst.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;cite&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/cite&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-5387905918814780624?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/5387905918814780624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=5387905918814780624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5387905918814780624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5387905918814780624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/06/really-goode-job.html' title='A Really Goode Job'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-2169207498099543807</id><published>2009-03-01T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T11:36:55.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holmes Humidifiers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/Sari9mpET4I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/vsX2X4jY534/s1600-h/DSC02448.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/Sari9mpET4I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/vsX2X4jY534/s200/DSC02448.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308304658782244738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not often that consumer retail companies get positive feedback, but I have a great customer service experience to blog about involving &lt;a href="http://www.holmesproducts.com"&gt;Holmes&lt;/a&gt;, the makers of a variety of humidifiers and air purifiers. Back in November, I bought a little humidifier for my bedroom. It cost $31.99 and worked really well, until it didn't work at all anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right after Christmas, it broke and stopped shooting mist out of its spout. A humidifier that doesn't humidify is pretty useless, but thankfully I registered the little guy so it was covered under warranty. After much procrastination on my own part, I called to explain the situation and a lovely woman named Violet said, "No problem! Fax over the receipt and we'll send you a new one." That was February 16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On February 27, a box the size of a small refrigerator showed up at my door. They sent me a brand new, seriously pimped out humidifier three times the size of my old broken one (see the picture for proof.) It has a digital humidity reader, all sorts of fancy buttons to set the humidity to a certain level and automatically shut on or off, a filter check gauge and lots of other fun stuff. And it actually holds enough water to run throughout the night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of amazing. And the price? This super upgraded version normally costs $64.99 - twice my original purchase. I did not pay a penny, not even for shipping and I didn't have to bother with the hassle of sending back the broken one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only complaint is that the humidifier Holmes sent me requires the use of a filter, which my original one did not. So, now I have to spend money every few months on a new filter. But really, I think that's OK. Because I now have the mother of all humidifiers. Holmes, the previously dry air in my bedroom thanks you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-2169207498099543807?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/2169207498099543807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=2169207498099543807' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2169207498099543807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2169207498099543807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/03/holmes-humidifiers.html' title='Holmes Humidifiers'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/Sari9mpET4I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/vsX2X4jY534/s72-c/DSC02448.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-1833484328983423219</id><published>2009-03-01T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T09:07:53.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Female Persuasion</title><content type='html'>There is nothing like the opinions of three strong, intelligent women with only my best interests in mind to clear my head and gain perspective on a situation. Sometimes you're in a cloud, hoping that things will work out the way you want them to, even though your gut is telling you they won't. It's times like that when you really need your girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This girl power (forgive me for the Spice Girl reference) can be applied to many problems, but it seems the most common issue involves the opposite sex. Perhaps this is because it can be so difficult for men and women to clearly communicate with each other, especially in the early stages of dating. You're thinking one thing, he's thinking another and sometimes it takes a few bottles of wine along with a lot of laughter with your best friends to see that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you, girlfriends, for helping me see the truth and make the right decision. I'd like to say that I would have figured it out on my own, but you certainly made it easier. I don't know what I'd do without you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-1833484328983423219?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/1833484328983423219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=1833484328983423219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/1833484328983423219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/1833484328983423219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/03/power-of-female-persuasion.html' title='The Power of Female Persuasion'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-4106668124424543240</id><published>2009-02-21T14:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T15:13:32.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flight 3407</title><content type='html'>It's been almost ten days since the horrific crash of &lt;a href="http://www.buffalonews.com/home/story/584773.html"&gt;Continental Flight 3407&lt;/a&gt;. I couldn't blog about it right away because just listening to details made me really sad, let alone thinking and processing it enough to write. News stories about the people behind the tragedy still bring tears to my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Americans, we've lived through plenty of wide-scale tragedy. I've watched news coverage of absolutely horrific, unexpected events - September 11, Hurricane Katrina,  dozens of plane crashes, car accidents, etc. I've seen the faces of victims' loved ones, fear stricken and hysterical over their sudden losses. I've felt empathy and sadness for them, I've cried for them and prayed for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this time, it was different. It happened in Buffalo, MY city, and that made it personal. Those first few days after the crash were nerve-wracking, I held my breath waiting for the full list of victims. Out of fifty people in Buffalo, you're bound to know someone. I knew my close friends and family were safe, but horrible thoughts about acquaintances, old co-workers and schoolmates took over my brain. Thankfully, I didn't know any of the people that died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that certainly makes dealing with emotions easier, but I still feel horrible for the victims' families. So many stories about their loved ones have surfaced, I almost feel like I knew them. I want to reach through the T.V. and give them a big hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a chilling calm over the city the day after the crash that lasted for a few days. Everywhere you went - to work, the store, the gas station - you didn't know if the people you were interacting with had been affected. People were nicer to each other, at least the people I came across. It's funny how tragedy brings people together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If those who lost a loved one can take comfort in anything, it's knowing that they are not alone. There is a whole community of people, most of them complete strangers, who truly care and want to help. Dozens of &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=50653778732"&gt;Facebook groups&lt;/a&gt; have popped up, offering kind words and support. Petitions to get &lt;a href="http://www.buffalonews.com/cityregion/northernsuburbs/story/585759.html"&gt;Extreme Makeover: Home Edition&lt;/a&gt; to build the Wielinksi family a new house after their home was the only one destroyed in the crash have been circulating around Buffalo homes, schools and offices. The folks at &lt;a href="http://www.tonywalker.com"&gt;Tony Walker &amp;amp; Co.&lt;/a&gt; have designed a One City, One Heart t-shirt, with all proceeds going to the family. Prayer services, fundraising efforts, thoughts, prayers and general good will abound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a community, it will take some time to heal, but if one thing is true of Buffalonians it's that you can't keep us down. We'll do everything we can to help those whose lives were changed forever, helping ourselves and each other in the process.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-4106668124424543240?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/4106668124424543240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=4106668124424543240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4106668124424543240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4106668124424543240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/02/flight-3407.html' title='Flight 3407'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3042049809455101987</id><published>2009-02-17T16:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T16:42:36.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cluster Fudge Isn't Something I'd Want to Eat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SZtZVz4PDtI/AAAAAAAAAEI/AAJkpzY1uAY/s1600-h/jc_yespecan.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SZtZVz4PDtI/AAAAAAAAAEI/AAJkpzY1uAY/s200/jc_yespecan.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303931217397092050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, &lt;a href="http://www.ninedaves.com/"&gt;ninedaves&lt;/a&gt; and I are the only ones that haven't seen this e-mail chain. Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's is famous for its creative ice cream flavor names (and it's deliciousness). The Vermont-based company came up with the clever Yes Pecan, kinda like Yes We Can, for President Obama. &lt;a href="http://ninedaves.com/blog/2009/02/17/ben-jerky/"&gt;This email&lt;/a&gt; asked people to come up with flavors for George W. I'm rather partial to “You’re Shitting In My Mouth And Calling It A” Sundae, although Cluster Fudge made me laugh out loud too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3042049809455101987?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3042049809455101987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3042049809455101987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3042049809455101987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3042049809455101987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/02/cluster-fudge-isnt-something-id-want-to.html' title='Cluster Fudge Isn&apos;t Something I&apos;d Want to Eat'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SZtZVz4PDtI/AAAAAAAAAEI/AAJkpzY1uAY/s72-c/jc_yespecan.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-7180821586733513086</id><published>2009-02-11T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T18:33:17.865-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='linkedin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public relations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='business'/><title type='text'>The Social Media Mystery</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This morning, I attended a Buffalo/Niagara Public Relations Society of America seminar titled, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;, Twitter, YouTube &amp;amp; More: A Guide to Social Media &amp;amp; How It Applies to PR Practitioners." According to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;PRSA's&lt;/span&gt; website, the purpose of the event was to inform &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:10;color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;attendees of, "the basic applications of social media for their own organization, but also how to monitor them and respond effectively."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The turn out was phenomenal, every seat in the room was full. Social media is certainly a buzzword these days, but few people understand what it is or how it can be applied to business. PBS published a story today about &lt;a href="http://www.pbs.org/mediashift/2009/02/budding-journalists-use-twitter-blogs-to-open-doors041.html"&gt;getting journalism students to buy in to Twitter&lt;/a&gt;. According to a &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/14/business/media/14digi.html?_r=1&amp;amp;scp=5&amp;amp;sq=%22social%20media%22&amp;amp;st=cse"&gt;New York Times article&lt;/a&gt;, advertisers are still struggling with how to reach their target markets. According to Time, &lt;a href="http://www.time.com/time/politics/article/0,8599,1878773-1,00.html"&gt;members of Congress are jumping on the Twitter bandwagon&lt;/a&gt; and causing quite a stir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is that social media is huge, but the vast majority of the population is still in the dark. Events like the one today are helping to shed some light on the subject and encouraging those who are still puzzled by the whole thing to ask questions. I think this was one of the most relevant topics &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;PRSA&lt;/span&gt; has ever covered and the number of attendees proved that people want to learn more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I was shocked to read &lt;a href="http://wnymedia.net/blogs/2009/02/pr-professionals-have-a-lot-to-learn/#comment-2471"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;WNYMedia's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; take on today's seminar. The author of that post was perplexed by one woman's inquiry as to whether or not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; was just a tool for  teenagers to socialize. He equated one person's misinterpretation of social media to all PR professionals, which was unfair, irresponsible and wrong. Obviously, this woman doesn't have a clue about social media, but her question was an honest attempt to get one! If people can't come together in a friendly learning environment to ask questions without being criticized, how will they ever learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my opinion, all three panelists at the event were engaging, informative and knowledgeable. They provided information to educate social media users of all levels and were patient enough to entertain questions from some obvious beginners. Kara Kane from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Medaille&lt;/span&gt; College spoke about the benefits of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;, including creating a group or fan page for your company and targeted paid advertising. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;AJ&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Diciembre&lt;/span&gt;, founder of &lt;a href="http://www.buffalome.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;BuffaloMe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, discussed various aspects of his &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:10;color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Buffalo-oriented social networking site and other sites, including Twitter and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;MySpace&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The most entertaining panelist by far, Kevin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Lim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;, self-titled &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="bio"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;cyberculturalist&lt;/span&gt;/social cyborg stressed the importance of listening to what's happening in the social media world and how to break through the noise. His quirky presentation included a hilarious review of the different responses by &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5igi6T39W7zUC3pWC360hjSd8ViGwD965OCNG0"&gt;Kellogg &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://www.mercurynews.com/celebrities/ci_11649437"&gt;Subway &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;over the Michael Phelps incident and how much social media traffic it generated. (Side note: In my opinion, even though Kellogg pissed off some people by letting Phelps go, I don't think it's going to bother their core customer base. Most families aren't going to stop eating Corn Flakes because of this.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Overall, the event seemed to be a huge success, despite one person's criticism. I consider myself somewhat knowledgeable on social media, with active accounts on Twitter, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;LinkedIn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;MySpace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;BuffaloMe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;, but there's still so much to learn. I hope to attend more events like this to better learn how to explain social media to by clients and get them to buy in to it's benefits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-7180821586733513086?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/7180821586733513086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=7180821586733513086' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7180821586733513086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7180821586733513086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/02/social-media-mystery.html' title='The Social Media Mystery'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3611422605883103767</id><published>2009-02-09T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T18:31:24.658-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beatles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stella mccartney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='charity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='red nose day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='design'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paul mccartney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='britain'/><title type='text'>Stella McCartney Designs Beatles T-shirt for Charity</title><content type='html'>Stella McCartney, daughter of Sir Paul McCartney, has designed a &lt;a href="http://shop.rednoseday.com/Category.aspx?CategoryId=68#"&gt;t-shirt&lt;/a&gt; featuring her father and his three famous band mates with red clown noses superimposed on their faces. It's just too cute. The original photo was taken by the late Linda McCartney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The £9.99           shirt is available at TK Maxx in the UK (British version of TJ Maxx), with at least £5 of every purchase going to the British charity Comic Relief. The t-shirts are part of Red Nose Day, a fundraiser pairing comedy with raising money for charities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the shirts can only be shipped to addressed in the U.S. (blast!) However, I'm going to try to buy one on ebay and donate to Comic Relief anyway, in order to be a responsible, fashionable, Beatles-loving citizen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3611422605883103767?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3611422605883103767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3611422605883103767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3611422605883103767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3611422605883103767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/02/stella-mccartney-designs-beatles-t.html' title='Stella McCartney Designs Beatles T-shirt for Charity'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3814619928682399007</id><published>2009-02-04T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T18:32:06.051-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='etsy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='handmade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='artist'/><title type='text'>Etsy is My New Besty</title><content type='html'>Maybe I'm behind the times because everyone else seems to know about this already, but I just discovered an awesome new website called &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/"&gt;Etsy&lt;/a&gt;. It's an online marketplace for handmade goods. They have everything from jewelery to pottery to photography to greeting cards, made by independent artists all over the world. Most items are very reasonably priced and shipping is crazy cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also just discovered artist &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6684273&amp;amp;order=&amp;amp;section_id=&amp;amp;page=2"&gt;Ashley Pahl&lt;/a&gt;, who sells all sorts of cool note cards, stationary and other things. Ashely has a contest going on her &lt;a href="http://ashleybugdesigns.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; to win a $10 gift card, good for the purchase of something on her Etsy page. Check it out. I want &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=19553323"&gt;this card&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=20236636"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt;, they're so pretty. &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=19553323"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3814619928682399007?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3814619928682399007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3814619928682399007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3814619928682399007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3814619928682399007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/02/etsy-is-my-new-besty.html' title='Etsy is My New Besty'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3827788823141552129</id><published>2009-02-02T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T18:32:34.548-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='commercials'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='football'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advertising'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ads'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='super bowl'/><title type='text'>Not-So-Super Ads</title><content type='html'>Football is the greatest sport in the history of the universe and the Super Bowl is the greatest day in the history of the greatest sport. I love the Big Game for many reasons- the game itself, the parties, the stories behind the players and coaches, the history and most of all, the commercials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, although I'm a huge football fan, I'm a huger marketing nerd. Clever, targeted advertising fascinates me. My favorite part of graduate school was reviewing examples of great ad campaigns, looking at print ads, watching commercials and discussing their strengths and weaknesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I was sorely disappointed with the Super Bowl ads this year. In 2008, we had jewels like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bridgestone's&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=1398215789"&gt;The Scream,&lt;/a&gt;" E*Trade's "&lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=1399285818"&gt;Baby Trading 1&lt;/a&gt;" and "&lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=1399286270"&gt;Baby Trading 2&lt;/a&gt;" (my personal favorite,)  and Pepsi's "&lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=1398249674"&gt;Magnetic Attraction&lt;/a&gt;" featuring Justin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Timberlake&lt;/span&gt;, which made me squirt a beverage out of my nose. Those commercials grabbed my attention, kept me engaged, made me laugh and most importantly, I remembered the product.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we can blame it on the economy and companies not having the budgets to let their agencies get the creative juices flowing, but I just wasn't impressed this year. Maybe I was just upset that Peyton Manning didn't make an appearance and the &lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=9531831001"&gt;E*Trade baby golf ad&lt;/a&gt; wasn't that funny. Whatever the reason, I only enjoyed a select few and think they deserve some attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bridgesone&lt;/span&gt; had another winner in 2009 with "&lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=9463260001"&gt;Taters&lt;/a&gt;." I was intrigued my Mr. &amp;amp; Mrs. Potato Head driving down the road, so I wanted to keep watching. The product was prominently featured and Mrs. Potato Head's angry eyes were darn funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CareerBuilder's&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=8696907001"&gt;Tips&lt;/a&gt;" reminded me of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bridgestone's&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=1398215789"&gt;The Scream&lt;/a&gt;" from last year. Any commercial featuring a woman screaming her lungs out is sure to grab attention, but the key is to make it funny and not obnoxious. They succeeded, making me laugh hysterically because I could relate to daydreaming about porpoises and wanting to cry everyday because I was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;disrespected&lt;/span&gt; and hated my job so much. (Not my current job!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Teleflora's&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=9322066001"&gt;Flowers in a Box&lt;/a&gt;" also got a giggle fit out of me. From the annoying, overweight woman who complains that she never gets flowers to the line, "No one wants to see you naked," I laughed from start to finish. The ad made a lot of sense too - you never know what flowers in a box will look like when they get delivered, it's so much better to send fresh ones!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite ad campaign of Super Bowl 2009 had to be the &lt;a href="http://adage.com/brightcove/single.php?title=9230258001"&gt;Miller High Life one-second commercials&lt;/a&gt; because the premise was so clever! According to an article in the &lt;a href="http://www.bostonherald.com/business/media/view.bg?articleid=1148820&amp;amp;srvc=business&amp;amp;position=recent"&gt;Boston Herald&lt;/a&gt;, Miller was blocked from buying Super Bowl ad time by Budweiser's exclusive contract. So, they bought air time in one-second increments on local NBC affiliates carrying the game. The ads were a continuation of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEtBKJ6J1Kc"&gt;a spot that ran last year featuring a delivery man ranting about Super Bowl ads&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose those who didn't know the history behind the campaign were confused by an angry man yelling, "High Life!" on their television screens and perhaps thought they were seeing things. Miller got so much free publicity surrounding the campaign though, I think it was worth it. They got around the competition, spent a whole lot less on advertising and got their message across to those who knew what was going on. Oh yea, and it was hilarious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3827788823141552129?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3827788823141552129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3827788823141552129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3827788823141552129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3827788823141552129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/02/not-so-super-ads.html' title='Not-So-Super Ads'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-6184073464576026424</id><published>2009-01-29T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T20:14:16.186-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nightmares'/><title type='text'>Lions, Potatoes and Electric Toothbrushes, Oh My!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SYJ9mhFnbqI/AAAAAAAAAEA/IoMG64bouM0/s1600-h/potato_2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SYJ9mhFnbqI/AAAAAAAAAEA/IoMG64bouM0/s200/potato_2.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296934212411551394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always had an active imagination. Sometimes that's a good thing, but more often than not it leads to some pretty crazy dreams. Some of those dreams qualify as nightmares, as I'm also the biggest scaredy cat on the planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been happening since I was little, these crazy dreams. My family thinks I'm off my rocker when I tell them the stories. I have a recurring nightmare in which something terrible happens, I run to dial 9-1-1 and the call won't go through. My dream book tells me this signifies a feeling of helplessness. I've also had many dreams in which I'm running at top speed and suddenly find myself in the air. Not really flying, just running above the ground. There have also been a few about falling, but I always wake up with a start before I hit the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dreams get much stranger than that, though. Once, I dreamed my entire family turned into giant hairy potatoes and tried to kill me. Another time we lived in a swanky penthouse apartment and my father brought home a lioness as a house pet. I remember feeling so terrified it was going to eat me. In yet another dream, my grandparents took me on a mining expedition underground and we traveled by donkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For awhile, I was having heart-stoppingly terrifying nightmares that were the creepiest things I've ever experienced. In my dream, I would see a scene from my bedroom with some kind of critter flying around in it. Sometimes it was a shadow, sometimes it was a spider running across the ceiling, other times it was a bat (that comes from the real-life time there was a real-life bat in my bed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dreaming self would see this thing, freak out and wake myself up while having a heart attack. It's a very unpleasant way to wake up. When I opened my eyes, I'd be looking at the exact same scene that I saw in my dream, minus the critter. I'd leap out of bed and usually run down the hallway, slamming the door shut behind me to keep the critter inside. It took me a few steps to realize that I was dreaming and in fact, there was no critter. This got really old for my family after awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, I graduated from running down the hallway like a maniac to just leaping out of bed. Eventually, I'd still wake myself up having a heart attack, but I learned to calm myself down and realize nothing bad was really happening much quicker than before. I haven't had one of those in awhile, but I'm sure it will happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though the critter dreams have stopped, I still dream vividly on a regular basis. Sometimes, timely events show up in my dreams. Just this week, I found myself part of a convoy driving to an abandoned house in the desert with McSteamy from Grey's Anatomy as our prisoner. When we got to the house, he killed everyone except me and one other person, then forced us to drive him somewhere. There was also something about an electric toothbrush kit, but I don't remember how that came up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm quite sure McSteamy showed up because of a Grey's Anatomy preview that showed him hunched over, veins bulging as he screamed out in pain. It startled me (not really scary, I know, but this is how my brain works) and so, my imagination turned him into a bad guy. I also went to the dentist last week and she suggested I switch to an electric toothbrush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to start using this blog as a dream diary. Partly, to share the things that my crazy imagination comes up with and provide entertainment for the two people that read this blog. I'm also hoping to keep track of these stories and identify trends. I've already spotted a few. Maybe someday I'll learn to control my subconscious thoughts - anyone know a good hypnotist?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-6184073464576026424?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/6184073464576026424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=6184073464576026424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6184073464576026424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6184073464576026424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/01/lions-potatoes-and-electric.html' title='Lions, Potatoes and Electric Toothbrushes, Oh My!'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SYJ9mhFnbqI/AAAAAAAAAEA/IoMG64bouM0/s72-c/potato_2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-38362573545593002</id><published>2009-01-23T12:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T12:26:28.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>E*TRADE Baby is Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.adgabber.com/video/etrade-baby-returns-to-super"&gt;Adgabber&lt;/a&gt; posted a link to outtakes from the new E*TRADE Super Bowl commercial and the baby is back! This is great, "I want to punch the economy in the face."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/U8Ev5HgGACg&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/U8Ev5HgGACg&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-38362573545593002?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/38362573545593002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=38362573545593002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/38362573545593002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/38362573545593002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/01/etrade-baby-is-back.html' title='E*TRADE Baby is Back!'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-1294748186023738130</id><published>2009-01-23T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T11:25:43.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost Keeps Me Awake at Night</title><content type='html'>I'm usually a zombie on Thursday mornings because of the Lost adrenaline rush that hits me every Wednesday between 9 and 10 p.m.  Kind of makes it hard to go to sleep at a reasonable hour when your heart is pounding from smoke monster attacks, disappearing islands and a shirtless Sawyer. The two-hour season premiere this week did not disappoint, it was full of things to make you jump out of your seat, hit rewind on the DVR and say, "What in the name of Daniel Faraday is going ON?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ninedaves.com/blog/2009/01/22/which-unanswered-lost-question-will-you-be-okay-not-knowing-the-answer-to/"&gt;NineDaves&lt;/a&gt; posted about the New York Magazine list of &lt;a href="http://nymag.com/daily/entertainment/2009/01/lost_slideshow.html#"&gt;Twenty Questions the Fifth Season of Lost Must Answer&lt;/a&gt;. The smoke monster is number one on my list. I have nightmares about it. Leave it to me to be afraid of the most irrational aspect of the show. Also, WHAT was up with the church/laboratory scene at the end of the episode? I used to think the island was Purgatory, until the Oceanic Six ended up back in the real world. Unless it's not the real world they're actually in. Maybe it's hell. And they're have to go back to Purgatory. Maybe I'm completely wrong. Now they're bringing this religious aspect back into it and I'm all confused. I just want to KNOW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-1294748186023738130?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/1294748186023738130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=1294748186023738130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/1294748186023738130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/1294748186023738130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/01/lost-keeps-me-awake-at-night.html' title='Lost Keeps Me Awake at Night'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-6085777545521470503</id><published>2009-01-22T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T19:37:17.825-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='compulsive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anthropologie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purses'/><title type='text'>"I always say shopping is cheaper than a psychiatrist." - Tammy Faye Bakker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SXkRAG7Is0I/AAAAAAAAAD4/TqjHJzt5wHE/s1600-h/840213_bla_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 123px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SXkRAG7Is0I/AAAAAAAAAD4/TqjHJzt5wHE/s200/840213_bla_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294281530507047746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to seriously consider joining Shopaholics Anonymous. I buy things compulsively, particularly shoes and purses and sometimes expensive shoes and purses. Walking through the mall or shopping online, I will stumble across something that I absolutely MUST have. If I don't buy it on the spot, I obsess over it. I check for it to go on sale. I dream about it. Inevitably, I purchase it. This bag from &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.anthropologie.com"&gt;Anthropologie&lt;/a&gt; is the object of my latest desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first saw it while shopping in San Francisco over the holidays. The bright colors stood out against the black background like the Northern Lights shining in a dark, winter sky. (OK, it's not really comparable to a natural phenomenon, but it's PRETTY!) The best part was the clearance price! The original $118 price was crossed out in red pen and what I thought read $29.99 was written below. It was going to be mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, twos and fives can look very similar in scripty salesperson writing because when I got to the register, it rang up $59.99. Ouch! I had already spent a boatload of money on my trip and could not justify dropping $60 on a purse at the time. So, I put it back and shed a little tear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been haunting me ever since. Diligently, I check the Anthropologie website weekly to monitor the price. If it goes down ten cents I'm buying it. Who am I kidding? I'm going to buy it regardless. It's only a matter of time. However, instead of buying it on-the-spot-because-I-absolutely-have-to-have-it-right-now, I'm going to wait until I save up enough money to purchase it and still be able to buy gas. What good is a fancy new purse if you can't go anywhere to show it off because you have no gas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-6085777545521470503?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/6085777545521470503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=6085777545521470503' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6085777545521470503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6085777545521470503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-always-say-shopping-is-cheaper-than.html' title='&quot;I always say shopping is cheaper than a psychiatrist.&quot; - Tammy Faye Bakker'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SXkRAG7Is0I/AAAAAAAAAD4/TqjHJzt5wHE/s72-c/840213_bla_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-2699887525891587760</id><published>2009-01-21T17:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:18:06.936-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='history'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inauguration'/><title type='text'>Obamarama</title><content type='html'>January 20, 2009 was truly a day for the history books. The first African American president of the United States of America was sworn into office. A man who has promised change for the better. So many Americans are counting on him. He gave us hope and now we wait for the promises to be kept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The media has been all over the historical significance of this event. Some people are annoyed by the hype and think it's been taken too far. Others don't believe Barack Obama will bring about the dramatic changes the country is looking for. They talk of disappointment and failure instead of hope and change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all of the neigh-sayers, I say bah humbug. Are you sick of hearing about how history is being made? Turn off your t.v. and read a book. Maybe you'll tune back in when a negative story makes headlines again. It won't be long, we are in a recession after all. For now, let the rest of the country enjoy positive news while it lasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the connection to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. make you roll your eyes? I hope they don't get stuck in the back of your head. Dr. King was murdered a mere forty years ago and now a black man is president of this country. That's a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does, "Yes we can!" make your stomach turn? Perhaps it's because you can't connect to millions of your fellow Americans who have joined together in celebration. When is the last time we had something to collectively celebrate as a country? It's been a long time. I feel bad that you can't be happy with the rest of us, but don't put a damper on our celebration. Occasions like this don't happen every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you tired of Obama being portrayed as a god-like savior who is going to fix the world's problems with the snap of his fingers? So am I. He's not and not all Obama supporters think that way. The ones that do are loopy. He is a man with many flaws just like the rest of us. He will do many things in the next four years, but miracle-working isn't on his to-do list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, my greatest hopes for the Obama administration involve an end to the Iraq war and an economic upturn. I don't expect either of these things to happen over night. Change is difficult and painstakingly slow. America must be patient and remember that whatever happens, it has to be better than the past eight years.  I believe the card below from someecards.com says it best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;" id="xyz"&gt;&lt;img src="http://mail2.someecards.com/filestorage/soto_122.jpg" alt="" height="237" width="425" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-2699887525891587760?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/2699887525891587760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=2699887525891587760' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2699887525891587760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2699887525891587760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/01/obamarama.html' title='Obamarama'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-8833424229450864531</id><published>2009-01-10T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:15:08.359-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relaxation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='massage'/><title type='text'>Monsieur Masseur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SWmMmDm2clI/AAAAAAAAADw/UBiRHglOY5w/s1600-h/spa_massage_masthead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SWmMmDm2clI/AAAAAAAAADw/UBiRHglOY5w/s200/spa_massage_masthead.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289913822754533970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm addicted to professional massages. Unfortunately, my bank account does not allow me to indulge in this addiction very often.  So, when a salon that I had a gift certificate for started offering massage services recently, it was cause for excitement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called to make an appointment and the receptionist confirmed the date and time. "You're all set for a 30 minute neck and back massage with Daniel," she said. Great! Uh, wait a second, what was that last part? Did you say Daniel? As in a man? Rubbing oil all over my neck and back? This could be weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always gone to a woman masseuse, it's what I'm comfortable with. Massages can be very intimate situations that are completely dependent on your ability to relax. Most involve getting completely naked, lying on a cozy, cushioned, heated table in a dimly lit room with soft music playing. For me, it's the most relaxing thing in the universe. My mind wanders into complete nothingness as the silky-smooth hands of a professional massage therapist hit all the right pressure points and release all of those nasty toxins. It is heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having some dude at the helm of my journey to relaxation was a little scary. Would I be comfortable? Would I be able to relax? What business does a man have getting into a profession that involves rubbing oil all over naked women? (I have similar feelings about male gynecologists). I considered calling back and rescheduling for a manicure, but what the hell, a free massage is a free massage and I was sure that Daniel was a professional. He deserved a fair shot. Besides, it was just neck and back, not like I had to take my pants off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I went. And it was weird. And Daniel was hot. Which made it weirder. And he was not the best massage therapist I've ever been to, which was a little disappointing. But, I conquered my fear of masseurs and used up my gift certificate, so all was not lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't that he was bad, I've just had way better (nothing will ever compare to Ariel at the Paris Spa by Mandara in Las Vegas.) And it was different. His hands were rough. His sneakers squeaked on the tile floor. He tried to make small talk. I had to stifle a giggle fit when he asked if the pressure was OK and said, "Tell me if you want more." He was also on the short side, which put his crotch basically on my head when he bent over the top of the table to reach down my back. The whole thing had qualities comparable to an awkward one-night stand, including when I told him I'd call again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be sticking with female massage therapists in the future. I don't want to base my opinion of all masseurs on Daniel, I'm sure there are amazing ones out there, but I will never be 100 percent comfortable in a room with a strange man, without my clothes on. And to Daniel - thanks for being my first. I'll never forget you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-8833424229450864531?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/8833424229450864531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=8833424229450864531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/8833424229450864531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/8833424229450864531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/01/masseur.html' title='Monsieur Masseur'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SWmMmDm2clI/AAAAAAAAADw/UBiRHglOY5w/s72-c/spa_massage_masthead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-2330849526276210064</id><published>2009-01-04T23:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:15:45.700-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='San Franciso'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relocation'/><title type='text'>Could I be a California Girl?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SWG_Dr0LtFI/AAAAAAAAADo/YSkjw5WOwzw/s1600-h/DSC02377.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SWG_Dr0LtFI/AAAAAAAAADo/YSkjw5WOwzw/s200/DSC02377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287717507531781202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 2 A.M. on Monday morning and I have to be at work in a few short hours for the first time in almost two weeks. It's going to be the worst Monday in the history of Mondays. I'm wide awake though, changing time zones will do that to ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just returned from an eye-opening trip to California and my mind is racing with hopes, thoughts, plans and possibilities. My dear friend Molly moved to San Francisco this past summer and I finally got the chance to visit. "You'll love it out here," she told me. "You should really think about moving here," she said. "You NEED to get out of Buffalo," was repeated many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is, that thought has been in my head for quite some time. The only thing holding me back was fear. What if I can't stand being away from my family? What if I hate it? What if it makes me sad? What if I miss something important at home? What if I want to move back and can't find a job?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of those fears still exist for me, but this trip muted them substantially. And it pretty much obliterated the, "What if I hate it?" part. I know with almost absolute certainty that I would completely love living in San Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I'd considered moving away before, New York was always at the top of my list. I think that was part of the problem. New York is scary. It's dirty and cold and gigantic and mean. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it, but it's MEAN. (New York, you know I love you, please forgive me.) The scariness is part of its appeal though, if you can make it there you can make it anywhere, right? I've always had this drive to prove that I can be successful on my own in a big city like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This trip opened my eyes to the possibility of  being successful on my own in a big, friendly city. San Francisco is clean and warm and bright and welcoming. Life there seems manageable.  Everyone seems genuinely happy, at least everyone that I met. And the best part? It's on the freaking ocean! It doesn't get any better than that. Any city where you can look out your window and see surfers walking down the street in their wet suits, carrying surf boards is far from intimidating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Observing Molly and her group of friends, many of them Buffalo transplants and almost all of them transplants from somewhere, I saw a group of positive, adventurous, energetic, spirited, easy-going people who are so full of life. A drastic change from the mid-winter population of Buffalo. I had a lot of fun with them and hope to have more fun soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always be a Buffalo girl at heart, but there is a whole big world out there with so much opportunity. I want to explore it, to learn and grow from it. There are things out there that Buffalo just can't offer an unattached 25 year-old girl itching for something more in her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;California inspired me to end the stagnation. I've been in a rut and the only way I'll ever get out is to climb. I've been unhappy with life lately and I am the only one that can turn it around. Will I end up in San Francisco? Perhaps. Only time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of the dream. Wandering by lone sea breakers, and sitting by desolate streams. World losers and world &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;forsakers&lt;/span&gt;, for whom the pale moon gleams. Yet we are movers and the shakers of the world forever it seems.&lt;/span&gt;" - Arthur William Edgar &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;O'Shaughnessy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="sqa" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotes/arthur_william_edgar_o%27shaughnessy/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-2330849526276210064?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/2330849526276210064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=2330849526276210064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2330849526276210064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2330849526276210064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2009/01/could-i-be-california-girl.html' title='Could I be a California Girl?'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SWG_Dr0LtFI/AAAAAAAAADo/YSkjw5WOwzw/s72-c/DSC02377.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-7568218967592697134</id><published>2008-11-30T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:16:32.217-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thankful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>So Much To Be Thankful For</title><content type='html'>Thanksgiving weekend is always crazy, fun, exhausting and one of my favorite times of the year. It's the official kick-off to the holiday season and there is so much going on. I know it's cheesy, but it's also the perfect time to pause for a moment and reflect on the many things to be thankful for. Here's my list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;That I finished the 8K Turkey Trot almost ten minutes faster than last year. OK, it still took me 1:15:13, ranking 600 out out of 647 in my age group, but it's an improvement damn it!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My job. Times are tough and I'm lucky enough to not only get a pay check every two weeks, but to actually enjoy my work and the people I do it with.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;All of my friends and family are healthy and we can celebrate another holiday season together.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My parents. They're awesome and I don't thank them enough for their awesomeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Staying in touch with friends. It's hard to do sometimes, but you find away to stay connected to the ones that matter most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The urge to clean, consolidate and get rid of junk. It's a project I was putting off for a long time and I've been on a roll lately! Organizing your physical space has a funny way of helping you organize other parts of your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-7568218967592697134?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/7568218967592697134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=7568218967592697134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7568218967592697134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7568218967592697134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-much-to-be-thankful-for.html' title='So Much To Be Thankful For'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-4140485197052092618</id><published>2008-11-19T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:13:39.032-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I don't care for your fairytales.</title><content type='html'>I haven't written a blog about my personal life in quite some time. I tried to stick with current events for awhile, in order to keep writing without spilling my guts to the entire Internet community. Today, I say "screw it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing is so therapeutic for me. It provides such a release, as if each word I type helps me let go of whatever ails me at the moment. It's been too long since I've gone through this process. I suppose I've been holding it all in because if you don't admit your problems, they don't really exist, right? Not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's the problem this time? A boy, of course. I thought this one was different. It started out like a fairytale, for crying out loud. Girl's high school crush resurfaces ten years later to reveal his feelings for her. It sounds like a movie plot. I shouldn't have let the romanticism sweep me off my feet like that. I know better. But it was so nice to feel warm and fuzzy toward someone again. Particularly this someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I jumped in. Except I think that I jumped alone. I thought I was diving into an ocean, mysterious, beautiful, vast and full of life. It turned out to be a dirty puddle. And now I stand here, sheepishly, with wet feet. And my damn shoes squeak when I walk down the hallway, each step a reminder of my mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, maybe I took that analogy a bit too far. Blame it on the writing drought. The point is, I thought I had become sufficiently numb to love. I thought I trained myself to get involved without getting too close. Not true, dear readers of my blog (if there are any), not true. I just wasn't involved with anyone worth getting close to. It's looking like this one wasn't worth it either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what have I learned? I am not numb. That's a good thing. The emotions that have surfaced are not pleasant, but they are mine and I just have to plow through them until I get to the other side. It stings, but I've been through much worse and lived to be a better person for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, boys cannot be trusted. Kidding, kidding. I am quite sure that there are plenty of trustworthy males in this world, I even know a few of them. Just haven't found the one for me yet. My second lesson goes something like this: Jumping in is not a good idea unless you're holding someone's hand and they jump with you. Even then, sometimes it doesn't work out. So, next time, maybe I'll try actually talking things out before setting my expectations so high. Yea, that sounds like a better idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall leave you with a song that I thoroughly enjoy singing in the car at the top of my lungs in times like these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom&lt;br /&gt;Man made up a story said that I should believe him&lt;br /&gt;Go and tell your white knight that he's handsome in hindsight&lt;br /&gt;But I don't want the next best thing"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-4140485197052092618?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/4140485197052092618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=4140485197052092618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4140485197052092618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4140485197052092618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-dont-care-for-your-fairytales.html' title='I don&apos;t care for your fairytales.'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3010803230375193647</id><published>2008-10-25T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:17:01.156-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Target Women</title><content type='html'>Check out Sarah Haskin's hilarious Target Women videos on Current.com. She makes fun of gender-specific advertising and other things  society says girls should  like or be good at, including cleaning, feeding your family and chick flicks. I'm a fan of the &lt;a href="http://current.com/items/89416957_target_women_disney_princesses"&gt;Disney Princesses&lt;/a&gt; and the &lt;a href="http://current.com/items/89365020_target_women_number_two"&gt;Number Two&lt;/a&gt; episodes. Check them all out by clicking &lt;a href="http://current.com/search/search.do?indexName=en_us&amp;amp;renderer=jsp&amp;amp;q=target+women&amp;amp;x=0&amp;amp;y=0"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3010803230375193647?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3010803230375193647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3010803230375193647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3010803230375193647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3010803230375193647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/10/target-women.html' title='Target Women'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-63308942279324126</id><published>2008-10-02T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T08:57:18.909-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='careers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='glass ceiling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='salary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='equal pay'/><title type='text'>Breaking the Glass Ceiling</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last month, I attended the Public Relations Society of America Northeast District Conference. It was held right here in Buffalo at the Adams Mark Hotel and the conference was a huge success, blowing past attendance numbers out of the water. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The most interesting session that I attended by far was titled, &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“&lt;/b&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-weight: normal;"&gt;Is there a glass ceiling for women in public &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-weight: normal;"&gt;relations?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;b style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;It was given by Brenda J. Wrigley, Ph.D., APR, Associate Professor of Public Relations, S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications at Syracuse University.&lt;/span&gt; Dr. Wrigley has done extensive research on gender and diversity in public relations, but her findings extend to women in just about every field. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In most cases, women are paid less than men to do the exact same job, and the higher the position, the wider the gap. The salary difference between a man and woman hired for an executive position is much greater than an entry-level position. &lt;a href="http://www.the-scientist.com/article/display/54924/"&gt;This chart from The Scientist&lt;/a&gt; demonstrates that gap for professionals in higher education. How unfair is that? &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So why does this happen? Some people say it’s our own fault. Even if differences in starting salaries are minimal, those differences can have a huge impact down the road. An &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/07/29/AR2007072900827.html"&gt;article in The Washington Post&lt;/a&gt; explained it like this... &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/07/29/AR2007072900827.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“If a 22-year-old man and a 22-year-old woman are offered $25,000 for their first job, for example, and one of them negotiates the amount up to $30,000, then over the next 28 years, the negotiator would make $361,171 more, assuming they both got 3 percent raises each year. And this is without taking into account the fact that the negotiators don't just get better starting pay; they also win bigger raises over the course of their careers.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Guess what my starting salary was at my first job? Less than $25,000 and I did not negotiate. Dr. Wrigley would not approve. She encourages all of her students, men and women, to never accept an initial offer, no matter how badly you want the job. She said that a company will treat you the nicest when they are trying to hire you, and if they’re not willing to play ball then, don’t expect much once you’re in. If they won’t negotiate, you probably don’t want to work there anyway. I wish someone would have told me that a long time ago. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The article goes on to say that while some may conclude that women are simply less aggressive than men, due to a combination of genetics and upbringing, that’s not the entire story. A study found that men and women get very different responses when they initiate salary negotiations. The article said, “Both men and women were more likely to subtly penalize women who asked for more -- the perception was that women who asked for more were ‘less nice’.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Put bluntly, women who ask for a higher salary are bitches. The study also found that men were always less willing to work with a woman who had attempted to negotiate than a woman who had not. They always preferred to work with a woman who stayed “mum,” but it didn’t matter to these men whether a guy had chosen to negotiate or not. [EDITOR’S NOTE: WTF?!?!?!?!]&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So, if a woman makes less money than her male counterpart, but can’t ask for a higher salary or that counterpart will think she’s a bitch, what’s a girl to do? I say, bring it on jerks. I’m not condemning every male on the face of the planet and calling them all sexist pigs. Certainly, most men do not hold this view, at least most of the men that I know. But some people do think this way, to some degree, and we can’t sit back and take it anymore. You think I’m a bitch because I want equal pay? So what? I think your CRAZY. Let’s not let a little name calling stop us ladies. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We need support from our non-crazy male coworkers as well. I work closely with several guys and I don’t think they’d be less willing to work with me if I asked for a raise. I’d like to think that showing initiative and asking for a higher salary would earn respect. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The only way to change this is to take action and refuse to accept the status quo. This may mean personal sacrifice, in the form of passing up unsatisfactory job offers, but we can’t keep doing this to ourselves or things will never change. It won’t happen overnight, it might not even happen in my lifetime, but we have to get the ball rolling and take a stand. Women deserve equal pay and we can’t wait around for someone else to fix the system. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-63308942279324126?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/63308942279324126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=63308942279324126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/63308942279324126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/63308942279324126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/10/breaking-glass-ceiling.html' title='Breaking the Glass Ceiling'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-636909086682550115</id><published>2008-09-02T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:17:47.934-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='history'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yankees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baseball'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New York City'/><title type='text'>The House That Ruth Built</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SL3WzDRY5BI/AAAAAAAAADg/3BJK5lMuvlg/s1600-h/DSC01912.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SL3WzDRY5BI/AAAAAAAAADg/3BJK5lMuvlg/s200/DSC01912.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241581713869038610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I spent Labor Day weekend in New York City and let me tell you, it was a good time. My little brother and I drove there together, almost sixteen hours in a car with your sibling... not everyone can survive that. He's an odd duck, but we get along well, most of the time. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The idea for this trip came about while watching the Home Run Derby back in July. Tim and I were sitting in the living room, watching &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josh_Hamilton"&gt;Josh Hamilton&lt;/a&gt; blast homer after homer out of Yankee Stadium, when we thought, "Wouldn't it be cool to see that place before it's gone forever?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My parents were vacationing in Boston at the time and being the spoiled brats that we are, we were a little miffed about being left behind. Itching to take a trip of our own, we bought tickets to the Yankees vs. Blue Jays game on August 31. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not really a Yankees fan. I'm not passionate about baseball, I don't have an allegiance to any particular team and I have enough respect for baseball's true fans to not be a faker. Hockey and football rule my heart, but I can appreciate any sport. I play softball, grew up going to Bison's games and find baseball entertaining. Plus, how can you not love those tight pants? I kid, I kid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am, however, a sucker for history and seeing an 85-year old stadium where all the greats played - Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Jackie Robinson, Yogi Bera, the one and only Babe Ruth and so many more - THAT was really, really cool. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Yankees lost that day, but it didn't matter. We got to see the the House that Ruth Built. We got to eat Nathan's hot dogs (which I didn't really like) and see A-Rod hit a home run and cram into the subway with all of the other Yankees fans. It was an experience I won't ever forget. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rest of the trip was lots 'o fun too. Except when Tim accidentally got lost in the Bronx in the middle of the night and I had a mini panic attack. I checked out ESPN Zone for the first time, saw Times Square lit up at night (something that never gets old for me, no matter how many times I've seen it), moseyed around the Virgin Music Store, said hello to Lady Liberty, ate pizza in Little Italy, sang karaoke in Chinatown and even hung out at a block party in Brooklyn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to our gracious host for the place to stay, the endless hours of entertainment and putting up with my anti-social sibling. Someday he'll grow out of his quiet phase and astound you with amazing conversation skills. Maybe not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-636909086682550115?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/636909086682550115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=636909086682550115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/636909086682550115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/636909086682550115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/09/house-that-ruth-built.html' title='The House That Ruth Built'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SL3WzDRY5BI/AAAAAAAAADg/3BJK5lMuvlg/s72-c/DSC01912.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-7276399026734522776</id><published>2008-08-25T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:18:52.892-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='policy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='campaign'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='issues'/><title type='text'>“American should be a place where you can make it if you try.” – Michelle Obama</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I’ve been asked many times why I support Barack Obama. I’ve never had a solid answer. The truth is, he charmed me. I think that is true for many Americans. He’s a well-spoken, passionate man who talks about change. He's young, he's new, he's different and I find him inspiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SLN--V5botI/AAAAAAAAADY/ZqJYYJ0GvM0/s1600-h/l_621a168caa0b496b646f9fafd4c2a6dc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SLN--V5botI/AAAAAAAAADY/ZqJYYJ0GvM0/s200/l_621a168caa0b496b646f9fafd4c2a6dc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238670401057039058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to support a presidential candidate. Decisions of that caliber should be made based on solid facts and every American should be educated on the issues before deciding which politician to support. So, I took the time to read about Obama’s positions on his website &lt;a href="http://www.barackobama.com/"&gt;www.barackobama.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below is a list of issues that are important to me, followed by what I like about Obama’s views on each. Agree or disagree, if you’re reading this, I hope you take the time to make your own educated decisions and vote this November.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Environment&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama wants to eliminate our need for Middle Eastern oil within 10 years by drilling for oil at home. If oil were a domestic issue today, the U.S. wouldn’t be at war with Iraq, so that sounds like a good plan to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wants to get 1 million hybrid cars on the road by 2015. He also wants to increase fuel economy standards by 4 percent per year and provide funds for domestic automakers to renovate manufacturing facilities in the U.S. to produce these greener vehicles. He has a goal – and a plan to achieve that goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama also wants to see that 10 percent of our electricity comes from renewable sources by 2012, and 25 percent by 2025 and has a program to reduce greenhouse gas emissions 80 percent by 2050.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foreign Affairs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama believes in renewing American diplomacy through a willingness to meet with leaders of all nations, friend and foe. Problems can’t be solved through silence. Open communication is the only hope for change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that one of the most critical foreign affair issues today is the situation in Darfur. Obama promises to impose tougher sanctions that target Sudan’s oil revenue and engage in more intense, effective diplomacy to stop the genocide in Darfur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Healthcare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama has a plan that involves health insurance for all Americans. If you already have health insurance, he wants to provide you with cheaper insurance. If you’re uninsured, he promises to fix that. Most importantly, his plan requires that all children have health care coverage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Immigration&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama will work to secure American borders while fixing the current dysfunctional immigration system and increasing the number of legal immigrants to keep families together. He supports a system that allows undocumented immigrants who are in good standing to pay a fine, learn English and eventually become citizens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think it makes sense to deport the parents or grandparents of children born in the U.S. They’re already here, they’re willing to work and their kids deserve a better life. We should work to prevent illegal entry into the country, bring illegal immigrants out of the shadows and help them do the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Iraq&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;“Here is the truth: fighting a war without end will not force the Iraqis to take responsibility for their own future. And fighting in a war without end will not make the American people safer. So when I am Commander-in-Chief, I will set a new goal on day one: I will end this war. Not because politics compels it. Not because our troops cannot bear the burden- as heavy as it is. But because it is the right thing to do for our national security, and it will ultimately make us safer.” – Barack Obama&lt;/blockquote&gt;Obama is fully committed to ending the war in Iraq through a responsible, phased withdrawal. While I believe our troops need to come home, I don’t think dropping everything and leaving the Iraqi citizens to fend for themselves is the answer either. Obama’s plan will remove troops by the summer of 2010, but a residual force will remain in Iraq to conduct counter-terrorism missions against al Qaeda and protect American personnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama also believes that America has a moral obligation to prevent a humanitarian crisis in Iraq, as more than five million Iraqis are refugees or are displaced inside their own country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Economy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama promises tax cuts for the middle class and wants to eliminate income taxes for seniors making less than $50,000. I’m not an expert on the economy, but I am a middle class citizen and that sounds good to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that I like most about Barack Obama is his background. He is the product of a single-parent home and claims to be raised with working class values. His mother worked hard to provide a better life for her son. His wife, Michelle, comes from a similar background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In her speech at the Democratic National Convention tonight, she talked about being “raised with values that you work hard for what you want in life and treat people with dignity and respect.” Cheesy as it sounds, Barack and Michelle are products of the American dream. They made their own paths in life, nothing was handed to them and they know the value of hard work. There’s something to be said about growing up like that and those are the values I want in the person running my country. I hope you take the time to think about what’s important to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-7276399026734522776?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/7276399026734522776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=7276399026734522776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7276399026734522776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7276399026734522776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/08/american-should-be-place-where-you-can.html' title='“American should be a place where you can make it if you try.” – Michelle Obama'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SLN--V5botI/AAAAAAAAADY/ZqJYYJ0GvM0/s72-c/l_621a168caa0b496b646f9fafd4c2a6dc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-4612717100109389669</id><published>2008-08-13T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:19:46.537-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sudan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='athletes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='U.S.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Olympics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human'/><title type='text'>Land of the Free</title><content type='html'>The raw human emotion that has emerged throughout the first days of competition at the Beijing Olympics has been fascinating to watch. There are so many stories about overcoming adversity and triumphant achievements, but there have also been stories about disappointment and tragedy. For every winner, there are dozens of disappointed athletes going home without the gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From &lt;a href="http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5jUmzfAgQPEhKiCHfOviQPzW3iXHAD92HHHEG0"&gt;Michael Phelps' &lt;/a&gt;amazing winning streak to disappointment for the &lt;a href="http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1832317,00.html?xid=rss-world"&gt;ladies of the U.S. gymnastics team&lt;/a&gt;, I've wanted to laugh, cry, jump around and hug the athletes on my T.V. screen every night. And it's only day five of competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SKOIoZ4Ms0I/AAAAAAAAACk/-8rcJHE3bxQ/s1600-h/lopezx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SKOIoZ4Ms0I/AAAAAAAAACk/-8rcJHE3bxQ/s200/lopezx.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234177419657392962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of the coolest stories I've heard so far involves Lopez Lomong, the &lt;a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/international/countriesandterritories/sudan/index.html?8qa&amp;amp;scp=1-spot&amp;amp;sq=darfur&amp;amp;st=nyt"&gt;Sudan&lt;/a&gt; native elected to carry the American flag in the Opening Ceremonies. Lomong has only been a U.S. citizen for 13 months. He was separated from his parents at age 6, escaped to a refugee camp in Kenya and was brought to the U.S. in 2001 as part of a program to relocated lost children from Sudan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At age 23, he's a 1,500-meter track runner representing the United States in the Olympics. That's quite a turn-around.  He even has his own &lt;a href="http://lopezlomong.org/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;. When asked about the honor, Lamong was more excited to be part of the democratic process involved in electing a flagbearer than the experience itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The U.S. athletes that elected a native of Sudan to carry the American flag in Beijing, China made quite a statement. While I don't believe the Olympics should be used as a political forum, it's difficult to ignore the host country's investment in Sudan's oil industry, despite the humanitarian crisis in Darfur. China is also one of Sudan's largest arms suppliers, which some say makes them an enabler to genocide. Read up on your China-Sudan news &lt;a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/international/countriesandterritories/sudan/index.html?query=CHINA&amp;amp;field=geo&amp;amp;match=exact"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the U.S. athletes found a respectful way to express their discontent with China's handling of the situation in Darfur, while still getting their message across loud and clear. I disagree with activists that called for a boycott of the so-called "&lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/30/magazine/30olympics-t.html?_r=2&amp;amp;scp=5&amp;amp;sq=genocide+olympics&amp;amp;st=nyt&amp;amp;oref=slogin&amp;amp;oref=slogin"&gt;Genocide Olympics.&lt;/a&gt;" The athletes that have worked so hard to earn a spot on their country's Olympic team shouldn't suffer because of the Chinese government's decisions. And the Chinese people shouldn't be blamed for poor leadership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've said before, don't judge a country's people by its government. Kudos the Team U.S.A. for expressing their opinions and maintaining the integrity of the Games.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-4612717100109389669?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/4612717100109389669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=4612717100109389669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4612717100109389669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4612717100109389669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/08/land-of-free.html' title='Land of the Free'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SKOIoZ4Ms0I/AAAAAAAAACk/-8rcJHE3bxQ/s72-c/lopezx.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-6645157206571157595</id><published>2008-08-13T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:20:51.347-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='China'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Olympics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beijing'/><title type='text'>"All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become." - Buddha</title><content type='html'>I’ve been staying up much too late these days because I can’t stop watching the &lt;a href="http://www.nbcolympics.com/games/index.html"&gt;Olympics&lt;/a&gt;. I’ve always been fascinated by the Games, but this year’s location is especially intriguing. Every time they show a shot of the &lt;a href="http://www.travelchinaguide.com/china_great_wall/"&gt;Great Wall&lt;/a&gt;, the Bird’s Nest or any major tourist attraction, I yell from my spot on the couch “I’ve been there!” My family is getting slightly annoyed.   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SKMFKhl-D3I/AAAAAAAAACc/f-GhHPNlSZo/s1600-h/l_a4d2c29d0c554b70a25c8a6305680c0b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SKMFKhl-D3I/AAAAAAAAACc/f-GhHPNlSZo/s200/l_a4d2c29d0c554b70a25c8a6305680c0b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234032870309105522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The media coverage has been overwhelming. I don’t know if there has been more coverage of these Games than in the past or if I’m just paying closer attention this time, but China is everywhere. I’ve been reading articles and watching television shows about the food, culture, government, people, environment and, oh yea - the Olympics in Beijing - just about every day for months now. I’m addicted. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Unfortunately I missed the Opening Ceremonies due to bridesmaid obligations, but people say they were spectacular. Hopefully, some sort of Beijing 2008 highlights video will be available soon. I want to soak up as much China as possible before the world stops caring about our friends in the East. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My trip to China last May taught me so much about myself, human nature and the world in general. Walking up and down the insanely busy street in front of the &lt;a href="http://translate.google.com/translate?hl=en&amp;amp;sl=zh-CN&amp;amp;u=http://www.bjfriendshiphotel.com/&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=translate&amp;amp;resnum=2&amp;amp;ct=result&amp;amp;prev=/search%3Fq%3Dfriendship%2Bhotel%2Bbeijing%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26hs%3Dw2I"&gt;Friendship Hotel&lt;/a&gt; in Beijing by myself one day (don’t worry, it was broad daylight in a safe neighborhood), I felt so small, so insignificant. People looked at me funny because I was the only white person around. It was very intimidating. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At the time, I didn’t like it one bit. I was also hungry, tired, hot, sick and miserable. But reflecting on that experience now puts things in perspective.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes we need a reminder that most of our every-day mumbles and grumbles are trivial in the grand scheme of things. This world is a big place, but not so big that we should be out of touch with the other side of it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are many things I’d rather forget about China – the smell, the scary food, the squatter toilets, etc. But some things I hope remain with me forever, like the breathtaking beauty of the &lt;a href="http://www.travelchinaguide.com/china_great_wall/"&gt;Great Wall&lt;/a&gt; and walking the paths of emperors that lived thousands of years ago in the &lt;a href="http://www.travelchinaguide.com/cityguides/beijing/forbidden.htm"&gt;Forbidden City&lt;/a&gt;. I don’t want to forget the thrill of seeing the &lt;a href="http://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/shaanxi/xian/terra_cotta_army/"&gt;Terra Cotta Warriors&lt;/a&gt; or the tranquility that comes with finding a quiet corner to meditate at one of the sacred Buddhist sites, like the &lt;a href="http://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/shaanxi/xian/bigwildgoose.htm"&gt;Big Wild Goose Pagoda&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Most importantly, I don’t want to forget the lessons about people, like the patience required to communicate without words or the simplistic way of life that most Chinese know, happy just to wake up &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;and be able to provide for their families another day. The American way is certainly the way for me, but it’s not the only way. It’s important to respect that. Thank you, Olympics, for refreshing my memory. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-6645157206571157595?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/6645157206571157595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=6645157206571157595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6645157206571157595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6645157206571157595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/08/all-that-we-are-is-result-of-what-we.html' title='&quot;All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become.&quot; - Buddha'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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/_3BwMIIRa-iY/SKMFKhl-D3I/AAAAAAAAACc/f-GhHPNlSZo/s72-c/l_a4d2c29d0c554b70a25c8a6305680c0b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5874313810697616893.post-4541741797690924087</id><published>2008-08-11T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T12:41:54.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey There Amigo</title><content type='html'>Got a new blog title, new colors and hopefully lots of new posts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-4541741797690924087?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/4541741797690924087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=4541741797690924087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4541741797690924087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4541741797690924087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/08/hey-there-amigo.html' title='Hey There Amigo'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-778391554023699517</id><published>2008-08-11T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:23:13.333-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weddings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bridesmaid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adulthood'/><title type='text'>Going to the chapel, but NOT getting married!</title><content type='html'>It’s been a busy summer. Or maybe it’s just been a boring summer. Either way, I haven’t had much of a desire to blog lately. I’m trying to get back into it though. I think it’s important to keep writing, especially writing for pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Militello-Barrie wedding went off without a hitch. The ceremony was lovely, the weather held out, the reception turned out to be a great party and everyone got along swimmingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sooner did I stumble in the door, bridesmaid shoes in hand, than I found an invitation to yet another bridal shower on my kitchen table.  One of my closest friends from college is getting married in October. I haven’t talked to the girl in a year, and even then it was only a quick hello-goodbye. I’ve made many attempts to stay in touch with the bride-to-be, along with a second girl that made up our threesome at Bonas. Every one of my emails and phone calls has been ignored, but I’m invited to the shower and bachelorette party in a few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, I’ll be out of town for the shower and her wedding falls on the same day as another wedding that I’m standing up in. I think it’s a bit ridiculous to cut people out of your life and then ask them to buy you presents. I know we’re all busy and keeping in touch is difficult, but if that’s the road you want to take, stay on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In total, seven weddings will take place in my social circle this year. Some of them are my best friends; some of them are barely acquaintances, but seven couples that I know one way or another will be married by the end of the year. That’s fourteen people total, all approximately my age, saying “I do.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That makes me feel oooooooold. And also, a little unaccomplished. If my friends aren’t getting married this year, they’re at least moving into their own apartments. Some of them are even moving across the country. Where am I? Living comfortably with mom and dad, still hanging out in my childhood bedroom, with no hope of new digs in sight. My financial situation just won’t allow it and most of the blame can be put on student loans. American Education Services and Great Lakes Higher Education Corporation and the HSBC Education Loan program OWN me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a long talk with a dear friend about feeling like I’m being left in the dust as everyone around me accelerates into real adulthood. She said screw adulthood; let’s go teach abroad for a semester. That sounds like a lot more fun than wedding bells.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-778391554023699517?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/778391554023699517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=778391554023699517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/778391554023699517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/778391554023699517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/08/going-to-chapel-but-not-getting-married.html' title='Going to the chapel, but NOT getting married!'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-5353287151480157229</id><published>2008-06-18T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:24:18.112-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sadness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tim Russert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='community'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leader'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jimmy Griffin'/><title type='text'>Celebrate we will, for life is short but sweet for certain.</title><content type='html'>So many emotions have arisen in the past few days, I felt compelled to blog. South Buffalo has lost three incredible leaders in a very short period of time. First, it was Jimmy Griffin. Love him or hate him, he was a legend in this community and worked to make it a better place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, Tim Russert. My God, what a shocking and horrible tragedy. When his first book came out, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Big Russ and Me&lt;/span&gt;,  I was interning at Living Prime Time with Jerry Flaschner, another great influencer lost too soon. Jerry was a huge fan of Tim and a close friend of Big Russ and just loved the whole Russert family. I wish I would have paid more attention back then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never seen an episode of Meet the Press, never read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Big Russ &amp;amp; Me&lt;/span&gt; (although it's on the top of my to-do list now) and before watching all the news coverage about his life, I didn't know a whole lot about Tim Russert. I knew about his Buffalo roots, knew he was a great journalist and was into politics, but that was about it. He's one of those people I wish I would have taken the time to learn from. It may not be too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then early this morning, we lost Debbie Clotfelter, founder of Caz Coffee Cafe. I wasn't terribly close to Deb, but many of my friends were and she was someone to look up to. She opened the coffee shop in 2005 after having a dream about it and that place has come to mean so much to so many people. Truthfully, I would not be as close to some of my dearest friends if it were not for that place. We congregated there every Thursday for almost an entire year for Open Mic Night to drink coffee, listen to some tunes and just hang out. So much happened in that year, but Thursdays at Caz was always a constant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether it's expected or sudden, death is never easy to deal with. I wasn't really close to any of these people, I only knew one of them personally, but their individual deaths have touched me in a very personal way. Collectively, they represent community leadership, dedication to success and hope for a better tomorrow. We need more people like Jimmy, Tim and Debbie to care enough about this world to actively work to make it better. They are heroes to me and I hope to touch half the people that they positively affected in my time on this Earth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-5353287151480157229?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/5353287151480157229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=5353287151480157229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5353287151480157229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5353287151480157229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/06/celebrate-we-will-for-life-is-short-but.html' title='Celebrate we will, for life is short but sweet for certain.'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-7781323794814422772</id><published>2008-05-28T06:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:24:50.637-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='news'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='current events'/><title type='text'>Things I've been wanting to blog about, but just haven't been motivated to actually do it...</title><content type='html'>80,000 people are dead because of an earthquake in China and most people don't really care. 80,0000 people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's incredibly ironic that Tanning Bed sells lotion that supports breast cancer research.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Starbucks menu gives me a panic attack if I don't know what I want and memorize what it's called before I walk in the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a bike and am making a serious effort to ride it when I'm going short distances instead of driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allegany State Park is beautiful, just beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly Jo is one of the most amazing people I know and I'm so grateful to have her in my life. And she's moving to San Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to move to San Francisco. Or Boston. Or New York. And if I don't do it in the next year, I'm afraid I won't ever do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have ever been ungrateful for something that someone else put effort into doing for me, I sincerely apologize.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-7781323794814422772?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/7781323794814422772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=7781323794814422772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7781323794814422772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7781323794814422772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/05/things-ive-been-wanting-to-blog-about.html' title='Things I&apos;ve been wanting to blog about, but just haven&apos;t been motivated to actually do it...'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-1618138678250747485</id><published>2008-04-29T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:25:21.686-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheer'/><title type='text'>Things That Make Me Feel Better When I'm Down</title><content type='html'>1. Alcohol&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing like sipping on a few guilt-free citrus vodka and soda waters (zero calories!) to take the edge off. Or, a Black Forest Martini, complete with chocolate swizzle stick (4,000 calories). Or both. This is usually done with good friends who won't judge me for drunkenly yelling about whatever (or more likely, whoever) has made me feel crappy. The yelling is done loudly with lots of hand waving and swearing. If the alcohol is consumed alone, there are serious problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Shopping&lt;br /&gt;Buying new clothes seems to work best. It's a real morale booster to have fancy new outfits to wear. Shoes work too, especially FM shoes. If you don't know what that means, google it. A girl means business when she's wearing FM shoes. If it's one of those days that I can't find a single thing to wear that doesn't make me feel like a bloated manatee, a larger purchase is necessary. Electronics or jewelery are nice substitutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Eating&lt;br /&gt;Comfort foods, including pasta, anything involving ground beef and chocolate baked goods are a must, preferably all in one meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Country Music&lt;br /&gt;When you work at a county fair for six years, you learn to like country music a little or you hang yourself. For some reason, listening to lyrics like, "I hate that stupid old pickup truck you never let me drive. You’re a redneck, heartbreak who’s really been a lie," puts me in a better mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Working Out&lt;br /&gt;When I've gorged myself on food and drink, spent all of my money and can't stand one more backwoods country sob story with a twang, I drag myself to the gym. I'm usually kicking and screaming on the inside, but when I get into a groove on the elliptical and break a sweat, the endorphins kick in and I feel like Lara Croft or something. I could kick anyone's ass. And maybe I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-1618138678250747485?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/1618138678250747485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=1618138678250747485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/1618138678250747485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/1618138678250747485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/04/things-that-make-me-feel-better-when-im.html' title='Things That Make Me Feel Better When I&apos;m Down'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-4239288623633285088</id><published>2008-04-21T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:26:08.425-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='China'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chinese people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Olympics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beijing'/><title type='text'>Don't Hate on the Chinese</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.buffalonews.com/149/story/328149.html"&gt;http://www.buffalonews.com/149/story/328149.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Douglas Turner pisses me off. His opening line, "This summer’s Olympic Games might have been held in Toronto instead of repressive, smoggy and unbearably hot Beijing had it not been for the loose lips of Toronto’s mayor," speaks volumes about his lack of respect for the Chinese. Although he disagrees with the popular sentiment these days that George Bush should boycott the Games' Opening Ceremonies, his reasoning is all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The loss of “face” for the Chinese if Bush snubbed them now would collapse whatever good our diplomats can do on North Korean nuclear arms, maintaining peace in the Taiwan straits, influencing the Chinese on Darfur and a host of much more important issues," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True. "Guanxi" or "face" is what it's all about in Chinese business relationships, government included. You lose face, you lose the deal. However, the Olympics should be viewed as a special event, completely separate from any government, Democratic or Communist. The Games don't belong to any one country. They are a tradition shared by everyone all over the world, regardless of nationality, race, sex, religion or political status.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this nonsense about boycotting the Beijing Olypmics to protest the shenanigans of the Chinese government ruins the spirit of the games. And attacking torch bearers? Yea, that's a really great way to protest violence with violence. I certainly don't agree with killing monks in Tibet or looking the other way in regard to genocide in Darfur, but I don't think the Olympics is an appropriate forum for political criticism. If the Games were in the U.S., would there be talk of boycott from other countries to protest Iraq? How would Americans react to that, especially considering how many Americans are against the war in Iraq themselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to my next point, don't judge a nation by it's leaders. There is so much more to Beijing than smog and humidity and there is so much more to China than violence and repression. If people took the time to learn about Chinese culture, they would know that the common citizen doesn't consider themselves a Communist, particularly lower class Chinese. These people live in alleyway shacks with mud floors, ride their bicycle to work through the smog, earn enough money to buy food and not much else and are perfectly happy to see the sun rise every day. They don't care about the government because they're too busy surviving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;China is a beautiful country with a rich history. Don't think so? Climb the Great Wall, visit the Buddhist temples or check out the ever-changing skyline lit up at night. Sure, it has it's negative points, like the overwhelming smell due to lack of proper wastewater treatment and pollution really is a major problem, not to mention political issues. But China deserves to host a peaceful, harmonious Olympic Games, just like any other country. If only for the sake of it's people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most important lesson I learned while visiting China was to respect things I don't necessarily understand. That doesn't mean it's OK to beat up monks, but it does mean that people shouldn't be so quick to judge. One World One Dream. Let's all play nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-4239288623633285088?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/4239288623633285088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=4239288623633285088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4239288623633285088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4239288623633285088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/04/dont-hate-on-chinese.html' title='Don&apos;t Hate on the Chinese'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-6344716600690034475</id><published>2008-04-14T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:26:39.815-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>If drinks aren't involved, neither am I.</title><content type='html'>That's the card I got from my dear friend Tami. Oh how I love that girl. She works for the American Cancer Society and I went down to Bonaventure with her a few weeks ago to keep her company during the Bonas Relay for Life. We laughed, we cried, she convinced me to buy the Vera Bradley &lt;a href="http://www.verabradley.com/Site/Store/ProductDetail.aspx?dept=300&amp;amp;sku=341%3a3&amp;amp;"&gt;large duffel&lt;/a&gt; in the pink elephant pattern and we ate the most delicious maple syrup on the face of the planet the next morning at &lt;a href="http://spraguesmaplefarms.com/"&gt;Sprague&lt;/a&gt;'s. So she sent me a thank you card, complete with thank you gift, for keeping her sane, and tells me that I'm a good friend. Doesn't that just make you smile? Thanks Tam, I love ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of friends that I love, things are looking up in regard to a certain vacation coming up in June. I'm actually really excited to go to Vegas now. I'm fairly certain that it's going to be four days of absolute ridiculousness, as it should be. Now we just need to pick a hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For awhile there, I was worried that this summer wouldn't be the same. People are moving, situations are different, tensions were rising. I was right, it won't be the same, but it'll still be great. Change isn't a bad thing if you let things go and just let it happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-6344716600690034475?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/6344716600690034475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=6344716600690034475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6344716600690034475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6344716600690034475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/04/if-drinks-arent-involved-neither-am-i.html' title='If drinks aren&apos;t involved, neither am I.'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-7774741646348372654</id><published>2008-04-08T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:27:07.020-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boston'/><title type='text'>Pahk ya cah in Havahd Yahd.</title><content type='html'>Boston is wicked cool. Mel and I spent last weekend shopping, eating, drinking, sightseeing and generally just running around like crazy. We hit up Faneuil Hall, Fenway, Boston Common, Boylston Street, the Prudential Center, the Central Wharf, Cheers, the Holocaust Memorial and several fine drinking establishments in less than 48 hours. It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I highly recommend the Hilton in the Financial District. The room was awesome, the beds were super comfy and the staff was really friendly. It was a block away from Faneuil Hall and reasonably close to the T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all that's been going on lately, I had it in the back of my mind that I should figure out if Boston might be a cool city to live in while I was there. Short answer: yes! It has the appeal of being a "big city," but it's manageable in size and getting around is really easy. I didn't get lost once. There's lobster EVERYWHERE. Things are reasonably priced. And the people (at least the people I came in contact with) are really, really nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We kept making Buffalo connections everywhere we went, so maybe that had something to do with it. For example, the bouncers at the bar across from our hotel. One was dating a girl from Buffalo and had been to Jim's Steak Out. The other played hockey with a guy from Orchahd Pahk. Oh yea, I love the Boston accent. For real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the Sabres were playing in Boston that night, people were sporting Sabres gear everywhere we looked. We made friends with some dudes from Amherst, who we pretty much hung out with all night and figured out that we knew a bunch of the same people. It was kind of crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also nice to spend some quality time with Mel. That very, very rarely happens these days. Even though we live a block away from each other, I probably see her once a month, if that. Apparently, when you work third shift, making plans with people is rather difficult because you're always sleeping when they're awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and I have some MAJOR differences, but we know each other so well that we've just come to accept those things about each other and deal. Not to say that we don't drive each other nuts sometimes, but I think that's normal. I think we had more in common when we were 15 and first became friends, but we've been through so much together and our friendship is so strong that we've been able to grow separately without growing apart. The one thing we will always have in common is our sense of humor and that's what our friendship thrives on. There are other things, but mostly it's our history and our humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melanie is one of the few people on this Earth that I can absolutely, 100 percent be myself with. I love that girl. She brings out the goofy side of me and we always get into ridiculous conversations that nobody else could possibly understand, but we end up laughing so hard we cry. And then we do it again. I wish that I could be that effortlessly candid with more people in my life, but she and I just click in a unique way. I guess that comes with being friends with someone for 10 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've certainly paid our dues over those 10 years. Maybe I appreciate the good times with her so much because I've experienced some downright abysmal times with her as well. When you've done the roller coaster ride with someone that you truly care about and you both come out on top, it makes you love them that much more. I worry about her sometimes, but everything will work out. We'll all find happiness and balance in our lives. We just have to keep searching. That's all there is to it. If not, I'll just move to Boston and start over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-7774741646348372654?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/7774741646348372654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=7774741646348372654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7774741646348372654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7774741646348372654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/04/pahk-ya-cah-in-havahd-yahd.html' title='Pahk ya cah in Havahd Yahd.'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-6790291092535156851</id><published>2008-03-31T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:27:39.679-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learning'/><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>Have you ever convinced yourself that you absolutely had to do something, no matter what? To hell with consequences, if you don't do this something, it's going to eat you from the inside out and your very soul will slowly disintegrate until it crumbles away and your less-than-human remains will wander this Earth in zombie-like fashion until God finally takes pity on your shadow of a life and you die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you do it. And your immediate reaction? What the HELL did I do that for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est la vie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-6790291092535156851?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/6790291092535156851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=6790291092535156851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6790291092535156851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6790291092535156851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-8329834030143642437</id><published>2008-03-30T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:27:55.778-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buffalo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sushi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Pangea</title><content type='html'>I love sushi and my favorite place to eat it as &lt;a href="http://www.buffalosushi.net/"&gt;Pangea&lt;/a&gt; on Hertel in Buffalo. I've been there twice now and the place is amazing. You will wait ridiculously long for your food, but that's because the owner makes every single piece by hand, as you order it. It's so fresh and delicious, it's completely worth the wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both times I've gone, the wait for food has been compensated by free food and drinks. Last night, our party of five each ordered a glass of wine, which was complimentarily refilled because the waiter wanted to make sure everyone had wine with dinner. We also scored a carafe of hot sake on the house to warm us up before we went out into the cold at the end of our meal. I don't even like sake, but the gesture was really nice. The waiter, who happened to share the same April Fool's Day birthday as my friend Jesse, was really nice and kept us laughing all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like everyone that works at Pangea is incredibly friendly and attentive, it's a pleasure to get into conversation with them. On my first visit, we sat at the sushi bar and learned the life story of the owner as we watched him make piece after piece. He came to Buffalo to study urban planning at UB, got into the field after he graduated and hated it. So, he put his sushi-making skills to use, which he learned as a waiter at Shogun while he was in school, and opened the restaurant. I think the place opened a little over a year ago and they seem to be doing really well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of Pangea is obviously the food. I started with some beef wasabi dumplings with ginger soy dipping sauce. The wonton was perfectly chewy and the the filling was seasoned just right. I also had spicy tuna rolls, eel avocado rolls, shrimp tempura rolls, soft shell crab rolls and california rolls. It was all really, really tasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night continued at Allen Street Hardware and randomly Mulligan's Brick Bar for a few more drinks. With Melissa's brother in the hospital, the mood wasn't exactly cheery, but we did our best to distract her and enjoy each other's company. Molly's leaving for San Francisco May 31 and I'm going to miss her so much when she's gone. There's only a few weeks left to spend with her and I plan to take full advantage of our time together. I have some really great people in my life and for that, I am grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-8329834030143642437?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/8329834030143642437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=8329834030143642437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/8329834030143642437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/8329834030143642437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/pangea.html' title='Pangea'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-9084598049321936948</id><published>2008-03-27T16:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:28:29.992-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.</title><content type='html'>Facebook is an evil thing. Oh sure, it's great for staying in touch with friends who've moved away, or who you just don't like enough to talk to in person. But really, it's for stalking and spying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's this new feature that provides a list of people you might know, based on mutual friends. The purpose is to help you connect with old friends you might not otherwise be able to find, I think. I started clicking though and found a TON of kids I graduated from Bonas with. Not really friends, I stay in touch with those I care about, but acquaintances, classmates, people I saw around campus every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It depressed me, not because I miss school (although I do), but because most of these people are DOING something with their lives. They live all over the country, work for all sorts of great companies, etc. We all started out in University 101 together back in 2001, that dumb mandatory freshman orientation class. Now, three years after we said goodbye to Bonaventure, the class of 2005 is out there rocking at life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where am I? Still in my childhood bedroom. That's a favorite poor-me phrase of mine. I know, I know, I have a great job in my field, it's smart to stay home and save money (or stay home and spend money, which is closer to the truth), I'm so lucky to not have to pay rent, buy groceries, fight with a landlord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? It's not that great. Sure, I totally have it made, but I feel like living at home is holding me back. I feel like I'm still a child. I haven't left the nest yet, partially for financial reasons, but also because I'm terrified at the thought of leaving home. I know I need to do it, and I will, soon, I swear. It's just... complicated. And also, I'm a giant whiner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-9084598049321936948?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/9084598049321936948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=9084598049321936948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/9084598049321936948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/9084598049321936948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/truth-will-set-you-free.html' title='The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-5355868392087057495</id><published>2008-03-21T11:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:28:44.108-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dyngus Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buffalo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Polish'/><title type='text'>Na Zdrowie</title><content type='html'>If you're going out in Buffalo for Dyngus Day this year, you must check out the band &lt;a href="http://www.buffalorising.com/story/buffalos_dyngus_day_darlings_t"&gt;Those Idiots&lt;/a&gt;. They are the best part of Dyngus Day and they're playing TWICE! Central Terminal from 7-9pm and the Adam Miciewicz Library from 9-11pm, which is the best bar on the East side. OK, it's the only bar I've ever been to on the East side. But seriously, it's great. Don't miss it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-5355868392087057495?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/5355868392087057495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=5355868392087057495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5355868392087057495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5355868392087057495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/na-zdrowie.html' title='Na Zdrowie'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-475488554658274205</id><published>2008-03-20T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:29:29.240-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Stay Away from the Lemons</title><content type='html'>It's 10:30 a.m. on Wednesday. I'm sitting at my desk, sipping on my second cup of coffee. Rainforest Nut, it's my favorite. I can barely keep my eyes open, despite turning in early last night. Getting up this morning was rough, one of those days that I curl up on the floor and take a five minute nap in between blow-drying my hair and ironing my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized it's not even Wednesday, it's Thursday! Oh I am so discombobulated. This weekend (which spilled into Tuesday) was a busy one, a nice change from the past few months of winter hibernation. All it took was a few St. Patty's Day shenanigans to knock the winter blues right out of me. Today is the first day of spring and I can feel signs of life stirring all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent some quality time with Nikki this weekend. I forget how much I enjoy her company sometimes, mostly because I hardly ever see her these days. Hanging out with just her is a rare occurrence, as her fiance Jesse is usually attached to her hip. As much as I despise couples like that, NJ (my secret nickname for them) doesn't bother me one bit. They're not the all-over-each-other-in-your-face kind of couple. Still, it's nice to get just Nikki every once in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to talk a lot in our 5 hours of driving to Corning and back. Nikki is one of those people that I can talk to for a long time and not run out of things to say. She told me all about work and I can tell that she's passionate about what she does and really enjoys it. I hope she gets a full-time job soon, she deserves it. We talked a lot about her wedding too, which would annoy me with most other people, but I'm genuinely happy for her and Jesse and excited to be a part of their special day, so I didn't mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a lot of busy weekends coming up, and I'm grateful for that. Easter is this Sunday, the Boston trip is in two weeks, with any luck there will be Sabres playoff hockey throughout April (I hope). Spring is here. Summer follows. Good things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-475488554658274205?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/475488554658274205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=475488554658274205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/475488554658274205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/475488554658274205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/stay-away-from-lemons.html' title='Stay Away from the Lemons'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3447078178890866508</id><published>2008-03-13T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:29:57.663-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>I knew this would happen...</title><content type='html'>I had to drop by Hilbert yesterday. Haven't been there since December 14, my very last grad class. I walked through the library and remembered the last time I was in that building, waiting to present my thesis. All of the emotions that I felt that night came rushing back for a minute... anxiety, excitement, relief. It was strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran into a girl who's in the middle of the IMC program in the computer lab. We started chatting and she went on about the class she was in, all the work she had to do, how stressful it was and the research, oh the research. I chuckled a little bit on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss school. God damn it, three months ago I was D.O.N.E. Never going back. Sooooo sick if it. Sick of sitting in class, the writing, the late nights, the textbook readings, the case study analyzations, the open discussions. I guess I'll never be sick of learning though. Can't get enough of it. Nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm just bored. This happened when I finished my undergrad. I got caught in the monotony of working 9-5, I felt stale, like my life had no meaning. There was a brief time when I considered joining the Peace Corps or going somewhere to teach ESL. Then I decided I didn't want to move to Africa and not get paid for two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could get a second master's for free, I'd totally do it. That $60K in student loans is going to prevent me from taking my education any further on my own though. Oy. It hurts every month when I write those checks to the student loan corporation leeches that suck the life out of my checking account. I hate you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel drawn to higher eduction in some way, I don't really know why, but I just do. Maybe I'll get a job at a university some day and be able to go to school for free. Maybe I'll become a professor. What a scene that would be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got a letter from Bonaventure today. They're having a surprise recognition dinner for Don and Mary Swanz, the Bonas professor and his wife that took us to China (I'm not really worried about either of them reading this blog and ruining the surprise.) The Swanz's took Bonas kids to China for twelve years and I was lucky enough to go on their last trip. They're awesome people and I'm looking forward to going to the dinner  and seeing some of the China crew. It will be fun to swap stories with other people that have gone as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I can feed my desire for learning through travel. That's probably cheaper than a second master's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3447078178890866508?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3447078178890866508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3447078178890866508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3447078178890866508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3447078178890866508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-knew-this-would-happen.html' title='I knew this would happen...'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-2291120853821483794</id><published>2008-03-12T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T21:09:18.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm tired of being alone, so hurry up and get here</title><content type='html'>I'm tired of being single. That's kind of a big deal for me to admit. Over the past two years, I've built a wall around my heart. I convinced myself that I didn't need anyone, I was finished with the L word and I was perfectly happy on my own. The only relationships I allowed myself to be in were ones that I knew deep down wouldn't work out. They were safe. I couldn't get hurt because I was in control. That wasn't very fair to the people I dated and I'm sorry for that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before that time, I'd been burned, twice. It hurt and really fucked with my head. It sent me to a very dark place that I don't ever want to be in again. I've been hiding behind that hurt ever since, afraid to be vulnerable. I've realized that's kind of emo and emo is so obnoxious.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, I got hurt, so what? It happens to lots of people. I'm alive and I'm a stronger person for it. As corny as that sounds, it's true. The only way to get over emotional pain like that is to just trudge through it, full force. You have to feel every excruciating ounce of it, day by day, until it slowly makes its way out of your system. It's been gone for quite some time now, so what am I hiding behind? Big fat nothing. There's a facebook bumper sticker that says "If your heart were really broken, you'd be dead. So shut up." So true, ha ha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So where does that leave me? Alone in an ivory tower waiting for my Prince Charming? Phst, hardly. This experience has led me to a place of self-discovery. I know who I am, what I like, what isn't worth putting up with. I know bits and pieces of what I want, but more importantly, I know what I don't want and how to recognize it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still perfectly happy on my own, but it would be nice to have someone to snuggle up with at night. It has to be the right person though. I want a boy who will fall in  love who I am right now, not who he wants me to be. There's nothing worse for a girl's self esteem than feeling like she has to live up to a certain standard in order to be loved. The reverse has to be true as well, I want to love someone just as they are at this very minute, not some non-existent personality that I think will come out in them if I just give it a little more time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a boy who connects with me and challenges me on an intellectual level, without making me feel stupid. I want someone who can teach me things about the world and people and love, and who's willing to listen to my points of view on such things as well. When we disagree, I want to be able to voice my opinion and fight without worrying that they're going to drop me like yesterday's trash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want someone that I can be myself with, without worrying about being judged for my faults. And I want to love them for their faults too. I don't want you to "figure me out" or analyze my every move. God, I hate it when people think they can do that. Just accept me for who I am. Is that so much to ask? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, enough of this sappy junk. If you know anybody that fits this description, please give them my number. Just kidding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-2291120853821483794?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/2291120853821483794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=2291120853821483794' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2291120853821483794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2291120853821483794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-tired-of-being-alone-so-hurry-up-and.html' title='I&apos;m tired of being alone, so hurry up and get here'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-6667108202375036692</id><published>2008-03-11T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T21:28:45.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boston</title><content type='html'>I'm going to Boston in April. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-6667108202375036692?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/6667108202375036692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=6667108202375036692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6667108202375036692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6667108202375036692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/boston.html' title='Boston'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-6391961663643884665</id><published>2008-03-10T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T16:19:54.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why prostitutes?</title><content type='html'>All of this prostitute business with Elliot Spitzer reminds me of the time I saw Joel Giambra at Roxy's, a lesbian bar in Buffalo, with a hooker. We could tell she was a hooker because she had teased hair and was wearing leggings. Also, when I tried to inconspicuously take a cell phone picture of the two of them grinding on the dance floor, he reached over and snapped my phone shut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I was at Roxy's because they have cheap drinks and my friend likes girls. Why was Mr. Giambra there? Because he didn't want to take his hooker to Chippewa? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how many politicians in the history of the universe have paid for sex. My question is why? If you hate boning your own wife that much, why not solicit a hot, young intern who'll do you for free? It might not be ethical, but at least you can't go to jail for it. I think it's also slightly less embarrassing than getting caught doing the very thing that you've helped prosecute people for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention prostitutes are dirty. They've had sex, probably unprotected, with lots and lots and lots of people. They have diseases. That's gross. Again, why? There are other options people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the reason for all of this is power. He did it because he could, and he probably got off on just that. Hope it was worth it. The guy was only in the second year of his first term as governor of New York State. He could have finished out his term, run for a second, who knows after that. There was potential for many more years of power ahead of him. Not anymore, dumbass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-6391961663643884665?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/6391961663643884665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=6391961663643884665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6391961663643884665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6391961663643884665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-prostitutes.html' title='Why prostitutes?'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-320174218226147056</id><published>2008-03-07T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T21:24:49.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0907657/"&gt;This movie&lt;/a&gt; is amazing. You should watch it. Yes, I mean you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know you&lt;br /&gt;But I want you&lt;br /&gt;All the more for that&lt;br /&gt;Words fall through me&lt;br /&gt;And always fool me&lt;br /&gt;And I can't react&lt;br /&gt;And games that never amount&lt;br /&gt;To more than they're meant&lt;br /&gt;Will play themselves out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take this sinking boat and point it home&lt;br /&gt;We've still got time&lt;br /&gt;Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice&lt;br /&gt;You've made it now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling slowly, eyes that know me&lt;br /&gt;And I can't go back&lt;br /&gt;Moods that take me and erase me&lt;br /&gt;And I'm painted black&lt;br /&gt;You have suffered enough&lt;br /&gt;And warred with yourself&lt;br /&gt;It's time that you won&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take this sinking boat and point it home&lt;br /&gt;We've still got time&lt;br /&gt;Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice&lt;br /&gt;You've made it now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take this sinking boat and point it home&lt;br /&gt;We've still got time&lt;br /&gt;Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice&lt;br /&gt;You've made it now&lt;br /&gt;Falling slowly sing your melody&lt;br /&gt;I'll sing along"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-320174218226147056?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/320174218226147056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=320174218226147056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/320174218226147056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/320174218226147056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/03/take-this-sinking-boat-and-point-it.html' title='Once'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-8849949376364921211</id><published>2008-02-28T19:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T20:25:32.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Land of the Midnight Sun</title><content type='html'>Well, I've been a ball of sunshine lately, haven't I? It's official. I have the winter blues. Thank God February is almost over, this really might be my least favorite month. Even though it's the shortest, it seems to go on forever. January has some holiday spill over, March has St. Patty's day and it starts to get warm in April, but February is just a big blank period of cold, dreary nothing. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things other than the weather have been contributing to my mood, but they'd be a hell of a lot easier to deal with if it was 75 degrees and sunny. I was supposed to leave for Alaska tomorrow (not exactly the tropics, I know), but that isn't happening anymore and I'm kind of sad about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Aunt Dorothy, my grandmother's sister, had been very sick for quite some time when she asked my grandma to come visit. However, it was asked that my grandfather not accompany her. My grandparents have been to Alaska several times over the years, but my grandfather can be a little difficult to handle if you don't have to love him because you're related to him. Don't get me wrong, he's an awesome guy and I love him to death (not just because I have to), but he can be an ornery old man who's set in his ways and yells a lot. He's also Italian. With my great aunt's weakened condition and the emotional stress on her family, I just don't think they were prepared to deal with a visit from Uncle Frank. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my mom and I were going to take my grandmother to see her sister in Anchorage. Aunt Dorothy's three daughters even donated air miles, so the trip was paid for. It was going to be 10 days of adventure and bonding with some pretty incredible women in the Last Frontier. And then two weeks before we were to leave, Aunt Dorothy had a stroke. She hung on for a few days, but she wasn't really there, and she passed away on February 13, four days after her 83rd birthday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't expecting the emotions that I felt after I got the news. I met Aunt Dorothy a few times on her visits to Buffalo, but I was young and don't really remember it. What I do remember vividly, and always will, are the stories my grandparents told about their trips to Alaska. They'd come back with tales about beautiful wildflowers growing on the side of the road, breathtaking glaciers, ice-capped mountains and moose roaming the streets. It all sounded so cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I really loved hearing about though, were the stories they'd tell about the people. My aunt, her three daughters, their husbands and children and grandchildren. I have a connection to this whole clan 4,000 miles away and I've never met most of them. I don't even really know much about them, but I'm so incredibly interested. I want to know who they really are, what their personalities are like, what their relationships with each other are like, what they like to do. I  want to know them like family and I was so looking forward to the chance to finally do that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From what I do know about my Aunt Dorothy, she was a really cool lady. She moved to Anchorage in the 1970s with her husband Paul, an air force pilot. She worked as a Rosie the Riveter during WWII on the B-29 bombers that her husband was flying. She fearlessly left behind her entire family in Buffalo and built a new life in Alaska. That's quite a task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think part of the intrigue for me, especially when it came to wanting to get to know Aunt Dorothy, was that it provided a little window to my grandmother's past. I know my grandma as Nana, that's what I call her. I made it up when I was little and that's what she's always been to me. The only other name I've heard her answer to is Geri or Geraldine, which my grandfather calls her, or Mom. But everyone in Alaska calls her Sissy. That's what all of her brothers and sisters called her, and my aunt's kids know her as Aunt Sissy. It kind of blows my mind that there's this whole other personality she has that I know nothing about. She's MY grandmother, I'm her only granddaughter, and I know nothing about Sissy. I want to know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nana is very, very protective of her family, which makes her a little suspicious of anyone that isn't me, my grandfather, mom, dad or brother. She would bend over backwards for us and has, many times, but anyone else can forget it. We joke that she thinks everyone is out to get her, especially the cashier at the grocery store that overcharges her a nickel for a head of lettuce. It's kind of true though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen her interact with her youngest brother Jim and his family, who live in Orchard Park, and she's good with them. I see the nicer, gentler side of her with them, the personality that I grew up with. I wanted to watch her interact with her family in Alaska. She always speaks so lovingly about Patty, Susan, Terri (Aunt Dorothy's daughters) and their families. Aunt Sissy must be the same wonderful, giving woman to them that my Nana is to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me really sad that we were all robbed of the time we could have spent together. Maybe it happened for a reason though. Nana is going to be 79 in August and although she travels with my grandpa all the time, it's a process for her. She's the most nervous person I've ever met and just the thought of this trip was definitely taking a toll on her. Had we been there when my aunt had the stroke, it would have been incredibly difficult on her. But still, what an experience it would have been. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will make it to Alaska some day. I've thought about taking my brother when he graduates from college. I really would like to go with my grandma, maybe we'll all go, who knows? I just feel like it's something I have to do, part of my family's history is there and I need to experience it. Someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-8849949376364921211?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/8849949376364921211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=8849949376364921211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/8849949376364921211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/8849949376364921211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/02/land-of-midnight-sun.html' title='The Land of the Midnight Sun'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-2245459775617346621</id><published>2008-02-19T17:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T18:02:58.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick</title><content type='html'>I'm sick of winter. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of the cold. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of being sick. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of being stuck inside.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of not getting enough sleep for no good reason. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of my ridiculously long drive back and forth to work.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of my clothes.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of this city (sometimes). &lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of certain people.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of certain thoughts that won't leave my head. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of wondering..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-2245459775617346621?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/2245459775617346621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=2245459775617346621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2245459775617346621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/2245459775617346621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/02/sick.html' title='Sick'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-4107171031564103617</id><published>2008-02-06T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T20:53:08.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Night I was Cool</title><content type='html'>This little story was written by Melissa Militello and I stole it from her myspace page...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not cool.  I have never been cool, I've never tried to be cool…but god damn it I felt cool this past weekend. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;It has taken me a LONG time to be able to talk about this night without becoming giddy and talking in exclamation points.  I think enough time has passed, and I will try to do my best. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Though some small miracle (named Terese), Erin and myself got the chance to volunteer for the Ryan Miller Catwalk for Charity at the Statler.  We had the most awesome job ever: take tickets at the door, and hand out maps.  Not only did we get to see everybody who came through the door, we only had to work for approximately two hours and were free the rest of the night to just party.  We saw Ryan Miller….Rob Ray….The Hanson Brothers….Rick Jeanerette even came up and asked Erin where the martini bar was!!!  Damn exclamation points. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;We worked with these two other chicks that took off after half an hour of taking tickets.  It made me mad; not only was I extremely cold from standing by the door, but I was also hungry.  That is the worst combination for me to be, it made me start feeling the rage.  The chicks came back after an hour of partying and I told them we were going on a break.  Those bitches gave me attitude, so I left with Erin and we didn't return for the rest of the night.  Bitches.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The first thing we do is get a drink at the bar, then we went to eat…and I bumped into Brian Campbell.  The whole night was so surreal…you eat, drink, and party with hockey players.  We ran into a girl that I work with, and then we all went to see Robbie from the Goo Goo Dolls play with Ryan Miller and Drew Stafford on stage.  I know they were playing with someone else, but by this time I was feeling all the vodka and guinness just a bit.  All I know is that we were also standing next to Jason Pominville.  Anyway, I left to use the bathroom and get a new drink, and when I came back Erin and this girl from work were standing at a table with Adam Mair.  OH MY GOD.  So I walk up and start eating Erin's food right away, to try and pace myself so that I can keep drinking without turning into Puddles.  In the mean time, the guy with Adam Mair starts talking to us – his name is David Greene and he's super cool.  My glasses were a damn pick up line.  All of these blonde, tall, perfect-looking models, and we were the ones talking to the cool people.  My friend from work had to leave because she locked her keys in her car – Erin and I agreed that even if our cars were on fire we wouldn't have left that party.  As soon as she leaves TIM CONNELLY walks up right next to me and says something like "Do you mind if I eat here?"  David Greene turns out to be a high school friend of Tim Connelly…we so made friends with the right person.  He introduced himself as Timmy and asked where we were from.  He knew South Buffalo, which was pretty awesome.  He was really nice, even when the other people at the table were asking him about his injuries and that kind of stuff.  So finally Timmy and Adam had to leave because they were in the fashion show, which was highly entertaining.  At the end of the fashion show I remember slapping hands with all of the Sabres that were in the show, not to mention the Hanson brothers.  Then we went back to the bar for more drinks, and ran into David again. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After the fashion show, we hung out with David and the rest of the guys for awhile.  We drank, did shots…Erin was smart enough to spit hers out.  I was too drunk to be smart.  I ran into Timmy(!) and told him we needed to do a shot.  I didn't remember the rest until Erin reminded me what happened.  I went up to the bar to get the shots, which were vodka apparently.  Then I noticed an entourage of people already surrounded Timmy…and I almost chickened out.  I said to Erin "I can't bother him."  Erin said, "Do it or you'll regret it."  Did I mention Erin is smart?  I tapped Timmy on the shoulder and he was like "oh, shit."  As in, you're really going to make me do this shot…and then I did a shot with Tim Connolly.  It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;We partied at the Statler for a bit longer - among other things I remember us getting into a political conversation with Paul Gaustad, about Obama and universal health care.  Was this my life?  I was ok while I was talking to them, then I would kind of look around and be like oh my god, is this really happening?  The party ended at 12, but we didn't leave until around 1:30ish…in a LIMO with David Greene, Tim Connelly, Paul Gaustad, and Adam Mair.  I know there were other people in the limo, but I don't remember them after drinking so much.  We went to Big Shots, from what I do remember – we followed Timmy in.  We were in with the cool crowd.  Adam bought drinks for everyone, and I escaped to the bathroom to avoid being hit on.  While Erin and I were in the bathroom everybody left to go to Tim Connelly's house for a party – everybody but David.  He wanted to stay to let us know…although I'm pretty sure he had ulterior motives.  Erin, David, and I took a cab back to the Statler, and the valet had Erin's car parked right out front luckily.  We then drove David to Timmy's house, but we did not go into the party.  I was too drunk, and Erin recognized that…who knows what I would have done.  But we didn't care, because we still had an amazing story to tell. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;While this story is extremely long to type out, I know that I've probably left out some details that I'm sure Erin Collins will fill in.  Erin and I always get into random situations together, but this tops them all.  Thank you Erin for knowing Terese, for being cool and sharing this night with me, and for recognizing when I am on the verge of becoming Puddles and reminding me of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:41 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comments from the Peanut Gallery (me)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melissa, you did a fine job of recalling the fuzzy details of the best night of our lives. I will never forget looking into number 19's beautiful blue eyes as he reached out his hand to me and said, "Hi, my name's Timmy. What's yours." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have a few highlights to add, including when you switched glasses with David Greene and passed the spectacles to each other through our friend Timmy, who in turn, touched your glasses. I believe Adam Mair and I had an exchange about life without impaired vision during this time. When Timmy asked where we were from and we said South Buffalo (that's right folks, we were so engaging that he was asking the questions), his response was, "Oh, you must be Irish," to which I'm pretty sure you yelled, "I'm Polish and Italian and Prussian and Sicilian!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other person playing on stage with Ryan and Drew was Toni Lydman on drums. Later in the night, Derek Roy joined them to belt out a rendition of "Better Man." I have a video clip of this glorious concert on my page, although the sound is very shotty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did indeed have the pleasure of listening to a political rant from the Goose, who went on about the evils of universal healthcare and how the only reason people like Obama is because he's black and articulate. I might have been able to come up with something semi-intelligent to say if I wasn't practically standing with my shoulder in his armpit, as his arm was wrapped around the pillar that I was leaning on and he is a tall drink of water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The limo ride was beyond words. True, it was a mere three blocks from the Statler to Big Shots (I'm still not entirely positive that is where we ended up, due to my beyond-intoxicated state at this point in the evening). The brevity of the ride did not take away from the fact that we pulled up to a Chippewa establishment and got out of the same limo as Timmy Connelly, Adam Mair and Paul Gaustad. I have never and will never again be that cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think it was ever actually determined where our posse went while we were in the bathroom pinching ourselves, whether it was back to Timmy's house or to another bar. We did drive David Greene back to his high school pal's lovely home near the harbor, however we did not go in for several reasons. Number one being that Melissa was turning a pukey shade of Puddles, number two being that David Greene wanted to get in her pants and number three, we were not sure that there was an actual party going on and didn't think Tom Connelly really wanted us hanging out in his living room at 4AM if there wasn't. It would have been funny if you puked in Tim Connelly's house though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was just a shady feeling in our guts and we decided right then and there in my car parked outside of the Connelly residence that this night would go down in history as the 1 Drunken Adventure of Erin and Melissa and nothing would ever top it, no matter what. We didn't need to go in. Our lives were complete as it was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can view a multitude of pictures and videos from the fashion show on my page. Please note that we do not have any pictures of ourselves with our famous friends. You see, we were "in." We had made it into the inner circle and asking for a photograph would have been just about the most uncool thing we could have done. I have all the pictures I need in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Erin on February 6, 2008 - Wednesday at 11:11 PM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-4107171031564103617?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/4107171031564103617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=4107171031564103617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4107171031564103617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4107171031564103617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/02/night-i-was-cool.html' title='The Night I was Cool'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-5736099525127162430</id><published>2008-01-21T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T11:27:15.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell me all your thoughts on God</title><content type='html'>I've been struggling with my faith in the Catholic Church vs. my faith in a higher power. I've been avoiding the conflict for years, going to church less and less while going back and forth about what I really believe. I find it incredibly difficult to belong to an institution that preaches about so many things that I wholeheartedly disagree with. I feel like a hypocrite when I do go to church because I don't believe everything the Vatican tells me I should. In fact, I strongly disagree with a lot of things and many of the Vatican's teachings anger me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I find comfort in going to MY church. The church that I grew up going to, where I went to grammar school, where I made my First Reconciliation, First Communion and Confirmation, where I learned about my faith. St. Ambrose has been blessed with several incredible priests over the years that have taught acceptance and understanding, not judgement and  condemnation of those who are different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Ambrose is a very plain church, it doesn't have oodles of gold statues and marble pillars that cost ridiculous amounts of money and stand for Hypocrisy with a capitol H. It was originally built as a temporary place of worship until a larger, fancier church could be built. That never happened, but Msgr. William Stanton, the head of the parish while I attended the school (and the coolest priest that ever existed), designed a series of beautiful stained glass windows for the church. The images that are depicted in those windows are highly controversial, but represent the acceptance and understanding that makes me feel good about belonging to St. Ambrose. Among the figures that appear in the windows are Buddha, Gandhi, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., symbols of various Protestant sects, Moses, Mohammed and an unborn fetus. Father Stanton died several years ago, but his windows will always be there to remind us of his teachings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the only websites that I could find about the windows are crazy people ranting about how they honor false gods and anyone that goes near them will immediately burst into flames and go straight to hell. You can read the crazy rants and see pictures of the windows &lt;a href="http://www.traditioninaction.org/RevolutionPhotos/A144rcWindow_Protestants.htm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.traditioninaction.org/RevolutionPhotos/A140rcWindow_NonChristians.htm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://closedcafeteria.blogspot.com/2006/03/politically-correctstain-glass-windows.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the story is, I like St. Ambrose and I like the comfort that attending mass every once in awhile brings me. I think it's the stability and consistency of the rituals performed during mass. It's comforting to know exactly what to expect and know that it will always be the same. When my life is hectic and I'm craving calmness, church always does it for me. However,  there's a nagging voice in the back of my head saying, "you don't believe in all of this, you hypocrite." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think God loves gay people just as much as straight people, I think priests should be able to marry and women should be able to be priests, I think a woman has the right to choose what to do with her body, I don't think birth control is evil and I think if you wait until you're married to have sex, you're crazy. So there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I most definitely believe in a higher power that I choose to call God. However, I don't believe that my version of God is the only version that's acceptable. I don't think Catholicism is superior to any other religion that's out there. I think organized religion is a way for the common folk to make sense of spirituality and faith. Everyone... Catholics, Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, Jews, we're all just looking for something greater than ourselves in this life and religion provides an explanation for that. Nobody is right and nobody is wrong, it's all a matter of what you believe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said all of that, can I still call myself a Catholic? Am I still allowed to take Communion? Am I a bad person for going to church once every few months when it's convenient for me? These are the questions that I struggle with. Hopefully, someday I'll find some answers. In the mean time, I guess I just have to have faith.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-5736099525127162430?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/5736099525127162430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=5736099525127162430' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5736099525127162430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5736099525127162430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/01/tell-me-all-your-thoughts-on-god.html' title='Tell me all your thoughts on God'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-6930710597068529824</id><published>2008-01-13T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T20:31:36.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts from the weekend</title><content type='html'>The Panza Collection on display at the Albright-Knox is really disappointing. Maybe I'm not sophisticated enough, but I'm not impressed by a giant canvas painted one solid color. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is an amazing feeling to touch the Stanley Cup. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rice balls from Filippo's might be the perfect food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some awesome friends and we're so lucky to have each other. They really are an extension of my family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabres games are way more fun when we win. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OxiClean will get any stain out, it will even remove very dark beer from your brand new white sweatshirt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe the Giants won. I'm sad that Peyton lost. I love Brett Favre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also love James Morrison...&lt;br /&gt;"Cause you give me something&lt;br /&gt;That makes me scared, alright,&lt;br /&gt;This could be nothing&lt;br /&gt;But I'm willing to give it a try,&lt;br /&gt;Please give me something&lt;br /&gt;Cause someday I might know my heart."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-6930710597068529824?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/6930710597068529824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=6930710597068529824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6930710597068529824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/6930710597068529824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/01/thoughts-from-weekend.html' title='Thoughts from the weekend'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-7744558908505460690</id><published>2008-01-08T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T16:10:46.253-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas</title><content type='html'>I think Chuck Norris jokes are hilarious. I loved watching Walker Texas Ranger back in the day and I just think this "Chuck Norris Facts" phenomenon that has developed over the past few years is really, really funny. I even have the Chuck Norris Fact Generator on my iGoogle home page and my co-worker Marghi and I crack up over the stupid jokes every day. I have a retarded sense of humor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So imagine my delight the first time I saw Chuck standing next to Republican presidential candidate Mike Huckabee on the news. Two of my favorite things to make fun of! Chuck was just standing there with this big, goofy grin on his face while Huckabee was rambling on about gay marriage being a pathway to hell or something. Then, my dear friend Marghi discovered this video. Please take a moment to watch: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EjYv2YW6azE&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EjYv2YW6azE&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? Hilarious and terrifying at the same time? If this is real, which I'm assuming it is, holy crap. I can't believe people would actually vote for this idiot to run our country. Actually, yes I can believe it since we elected George W twice, but it scares me. A lot. On an entertainment scale, however, it gets a 10 from me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to end this blog with some of my favorite Chuck Norris facts. Please enjoy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris sleeps with a night light. Not because he's afraid of the dark, but because the dark is afraid of Chuck Norris. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris doesn’t need to shave. His beard is scared to grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dinosaurs looked at Chuck Norris the wrong way once. ONCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before he forgot a gift for Chuck Norris, Santa Claus was real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Boogie Man checks his closet for Chuck Norris before he goes to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-7744558908505460690?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/7744558908505460690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=7744558908505460690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7744558908505460690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/7744558908505460690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/01/superman-wears-chuck-norris-pajamas.html' title='Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3216957210039890153</id><published>2008-01-06T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T13:44:38.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't think twice, it's all right.</title><content type='html'>The past few weeks have been crazy busy, hence the lack of posts. But I'm back at it, thanks to some harassing from a fellow blogger. Christmas was nice, a quiet day at my house with my parents, brother and grandparents. Both sides of my family used to have giant parties on Christmas day, on opposite sides of town, which always made for a stressful, hectic holiday. I do miss getting together with everyone, but I kind of like it better this way. It's really quite fabulous to not have to leave your house on Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I went to New York for a few days to visit my friend John. He moved to Brooklyn something like a year and a half ago and I still hadn't made it out for a visit, so I finally went and had a lot of fun. I got to see the Rockefeller Center tree, which was beautiful and gigantic, along with some other touristy things. Really though, I had the most fun just hanging out with John and his friends. They are some very sarcastic, witty boys and they made me laugh a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my fourth time visiting the city, but the first time that I had to get around by myself. It was an interesting experience. I got very lost multiple times, but eventually figured it out (after multiple texts/phone calls to John saying "Where the hell am I supposed to go?!") It was kind of invigorating to be so completely out of my comfort zone for a few days. Things like that always make me appreciate home and I think I needed that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of New Year's was spent arguing about the lack of plans and inability to make a decision about what to do (just like every year, I really dislike the holiday), but turned out pretty OK in the end. Then came the Ice Bowl! One of the best days of my life, the experience was incredible. It would have been nice to win, but it really didn't matter. The stadium looked awesome, the crowd was bursting with positive energy, even the players and coaches were in awe. It was all very, very cool and I hope they bring it back to Buffalo again some time. Thank you to Nicole for asking me to go and being the best Ice Bowl companion a girl could ask for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to work after 10 days off wasn't pleasant, but things are going a little better. I know that I have support from the people in my department and that's really the most important thing. I've had absolutely no problem adjusting to post-school life, although I do miss my friends. We're all busy, but I think we'll manage to stay in touch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's it for now. The Sabres play a rare Sunday afternoon game today, which I am looking forward to curling up on the couch and watching, with a little playoff football action in between periods. I heart Sundays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3216957210039890153?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3216957210039890153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3216957210039890153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3216957210039890153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3216957210039890153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2008/01/dont-think-twice-its-all-right.html' title='Don&apos;t think twice, it&apos;s all right.'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3892320306763340349</id><published>2007-12-20T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T16:12:48.159-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Craptastic</title><content type='html'>Something really crappy happened  at work today. One of the crappiest things that's ever happened to me at a job. I really had nothing to do with it, it was not my fault at all. That's what everyone told me anyway. I even received unexpected compliments about my diligence and hard work, but alas, the crappy thing happened anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't go into detail, but "it" was bad. I say "was" because it's done and over with now. The only place to go is forward, no point in dwelling on it. I realize this is starting to sound like I lost my job or something, but no worries, that didn't happen. "It," however, knocked me off the feel-good cloud I've been riding on and shoved the sometimes cold, heartless soul of corporate America in my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was rough, I actually almost cried. But I kept it together and reminded myself that this isn't the playground. Things happen that you have no control over, grow up and get over it. I was on the receiving end of many sympathy gazes today. I smiled politely, staying upbeat, but wondered what they were really thinking. Could I have done better? Tried harder? Worked longer? Did I fail? I'm still wondering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no, everyone assured me. This wasn't my fault. "It" had been a long time coming. "It" wasn't the end of the world. I did the best job I could. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? I DID do the best job that I could. Apparently, that wasn't good enough. The expectations were impossible, rebuilding something that had taken four years to accomplish in less than three months. Nope, I couldn't do that. Really, who could? They are right, it wasn't my fault. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I wasn't given a proper chance, it's not fair. The old saying is true, life isn't fair. Still, I wonder, do people think I'm not good enough? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I can do is try harder. There is plenty of work to be done and I will do it and do it well. I have to exceed expectations and blow them away. Accuracy, efficiency and creativity will be extremely important. Christmas is almost here, and with it a whole 11 days away from the office. This will be a welcome break from the every day routine. Then, it's show time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3892320306763340349?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3892320306763340349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3892320306763340349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3892320306763340349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3892320306763340349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2007/12/craptastic.html' title='Craptastic'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-4210676561761376973</id><published>2007-12-18T15:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T16:35:23.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pomp and Circumstance... and a lot of snow</title><content type='html'>Well, so much for that "writing often" thing, it's been almost 10 days since my last post! Much has happened since then and life is pretty good right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I graduated! I've had a few days for that reality to set it and it's a strange feeling. I'm so happy to be done with the Saturday morning classes, the stress, the frustrations and all that jazz. But I'll miss a lot of things too. As crazy as my classmates and I drove each other at times, we were like a family. During our final class, I presented this little blog project and I told them that I despite our differences, I learned a valuable lesson from every single one of them. That was kind of the theme of the night, lessons learned and friendships made. It was nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even nicer, was graduation night. My whole family made the trek down to Olean for the ceremony, amidst worries over some serious health problems with my grandmother's sister and a warning that the "storm of the century" might hit town. It meant a lot that they all came. Watching my grandparents watching me, I could tell it meant a lot to them to be there. My dad told me he was proud of me, which always tugs at my heart in a way that nothing else ever will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ceremony was short and sweet, but the man that gave our commencement speech, an education professor that I had never heard of, sent us on our way with a really great message. He compared our diploma to a brand new car, Bona brown with white interior (this made me crack up). We have the keys, but it will only go where we drive it. The world is an open road, see what's out there. But don't forget about your "BonaStar" button that connects you to the university that you call home whenever you need help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Messages like that always send twinges of anticipation and excitement through my body. How will my life play out? Where will I go? What will I do? Will I ever have the courage to leave Buffalo and see what else is out there? Time will tell. I have to be patient, things will work themselves out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the party started. St. Bonaventure is a Franciscan university and let me tell you, those friars know how to throw a party. The IMC class and their guests were invited to an exclusive gathering at the friary, home of the men in the brown robes, complete with open bar and an endless supply of goodies to munch on. I walked in the door and Brother Basil, my favorite professor, greeted me and said, "Get to the bar!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Friary is a gorgeous building that was always a mystery to me as an undergrad. I was never part of the "special" group that got invited to dinner there on occasion. It was worth the wait. That night was so incredibly special, I won't even try to describe the details of it here. The memory will stay with me forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's cheesy, but St. Bonaventure really is a unique place. Outsiders joke about it being cult-like, but once you're in, you're in for life. If you're not part of it, you can't possibly understand it and you probably think I'm just a big dork. Too bad. I love that school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-4210676561761376973?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/4210676561761376973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=4210676561761376973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4210676561761376973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/4210676561761376973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2007/12/pomp-and-circumstance-and-lot-of-snow.html' title='Pomp and Circumstance... and a lot of snow'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-1301995002885185445</id><published>2007-12-09T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T19:21:35.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Jaded Company Christmas</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was my office holiday party, my first real corporate social function. The Fair had a Christmas party, but it was more for members of the Ag society than employees and I had to work the Chinese auction table every year, so I couldn't just relax and enjoy myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party was at a fancy-pants golf course clubhouse in Lockport. The building was beautiful and it was really nice to see my co-workers all dressed up outside of the office. I met lots of husbands, wives and significant others of the people I work with and everyone was really nice. There were over 100 people there, so it was a good crowd and I think everyone had fun for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were still a few people that complained though. The food was bad, the drinks were watered down, they made us play games, the music was cheesy, etc. Being a newbie and not yet jaded, I found this a little annoying. The company threw us a party, a free party with free drinks and free food and free music and free raffles with free prizes and we could have brought a guest for free too. What's to complain about? My mom works at a hospital with doctors that have more money than God and she has to pay $35 per person for a ticket to her company's holiday party. Take what you can get, people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I thought about the Fair and how I used to complain about &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; holiday party (as I did in the first paragraph of this blog). It wasn't really for employees, I had to work during it, we only got a few free drink tickets, the food was bad, everyone wore a cowboy tie, etc. I'm sure I complained a lot more about my last party than I did about my first. I became jaded over the years and left that place full of resent and disappointment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope that doesn't happen at my new job. I'm trying to keep an open mind, but that's hard to do when everyone around me who has been working there for several years or more is constantly complaining about the company. How do you prevent becoming jaded? I've taken everything that I've heard, good and bad, with a grain of salt and I'm doing my best to form my own opinions as I gain first hand knowledge and experience. So far, the experience has been pretty damn good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the company's values align with your own, you believe in the company's mission and you are satisfied with your position at that company, then becoming jaded shouldn't happen. But is anyone ever truly satisfied? There's always something...salary, an annoying co-worker, benefits... to complain about even if you really like your job. I think it's human nature to always want more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 24, it's hard to see myself settling down at one company for the rest of my life. I like the confidence and recognition that come with seniority though, I really am enjoying what I do at this new job and I hope that enjoyment continues. I'm sure that in time, my wide-eyed appreciation for free holiday parties will be replaced by complaints about dry chicken and 80s rock ballads, but I'll try to be conscious of my whininess level so I don't scare the newbies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-1301995002885185445?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/1301995002885185445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=1301995002885185445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/1301995002885185445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/1301995002885185445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2007/12/jaded-company-christmas.html' title='A Jaded Company Christmas'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-5325032425594312491</id><published>2007-12-05T19:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T19:57:14.052-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meez</title><content type='html'>Instead of doing something productive after work today, I created a Meez. It's a virtual character that you design from head to toe, including body shape, hair, eye and skin color, clothing and background. You can put your Meez in a bikini and send her to the beach or you can put her in a suit and make her sit at a desk. I put mine in jeans and put her in Times Square. There is absolutely no point to this, but I found it amusing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-5325032425594312491?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/5325032425594312491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=5325032425594312491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5325032425594312491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/5325032425594312491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2007/12/meez.html' title='Meez'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-3933787574404315583</id><published>2007-12-04T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T18:38:08.925-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some hire public relations officers."</title><content type='html'>My job is pretty cool. For years, I thought that an ad agency would be a good place for me and now I'm doing it and loving it. When I interviewed, they were concerned about the transition I would have to make from an entertainment background to industrial, b-to-b industries. I made up something about how it's the process of marketing communications that I am passionate about, the industry doesn't matter. I didn't know if that was true at the time, but it was convincing enough to get me a job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I was nervous about the clients I'd be dealing with. How boring is it to write press releases about paint and cleaning products all day? Turns out, not boring at all. Most of my clients fall into the "building and construction" category, topics I know very little about, but I love the challenge of researching and figuring it out. I love coming home and talking to my dad about radiant heating and actually holding up my end of the conversation. I realize this makes me a gigantic dork. It's definitely not for everyone, but it is for me and that's a really good feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, I enjoy the fact that not just anyone could cut it, doing what my department does. Doing what my agency does, really. I work with some incredibly smart and talented people and I feel lucky to be a part of that mix.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also learning that public relations is so much more than writing press releases. It's about telling stories, selling your hook and most important, relationship building. When I left the Fair, it was really sad to leave behind all of the wonderful people I got to work with each year. But I'm making new contacts and building new relationships now, and its great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of my job is the writing. I am writing SOMETHING... an e-mail pitch, a press release, interview questions... for more than half of every day. Most of the rest of the time, I'm verbally communicating on the phone or in person with someone. The best part is, I have a wonderful mentor who is willing to help me become a better communicator just because he's passionate about what we do as well. A fellow Bona grad, he's an incredible writer and will take something I've painstakingly put together and rip it apart. I LOVE IT! I'm learning and growing so much; it's such a refreshing change.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it turns out that my spur of the moment answer actually is true. I'm passionate about the process and I'm being given the tools to take my passion and run with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-3933787574404315583?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/3933787574404315583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=3933787574404315583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3933787574404315583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/3933787574404315583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2007/12/some-are-born-great-some-achieve.html' title='&quot;Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some hire public relations officers.&quot;'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-5874313810697616893.post-8529209159530227356</id><published>2007-12-03T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T21:37:46.905-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Personal Growth Project</title><content type='html'>My name is Erin and I want to be a blogger. I've been toying with the idea for some time now, I've even written a blog here and there on my myspace page. But I've never really committed to maintaining a blog, until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to write often, whenever the mood strikes, about my life. It will be my virtual diary, serving as a forum to express my emotions and organize my thoughts. I don't plan on dishing about my deepest, darkest secrets (you'll have to get to know me for those). In fact, I don't really know what I'll write about. But write, I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to take on this project as part of the very last assignment I'll ever complete for school (unless I do something crazy like get a second Masters or a Doctorate - highly unlikely.)  In less than two weeks, I will graduate with a Masters degree in Integrated Marketing Communications from St. Bonaventure University. The last assignment for the last class is called a "Personal Growth Project." It's a purposely-vague assignment meant to encourage reflection on what we've learned since the start of this program sixteen months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned A LOT and I don't want to forget what this period of my life has been like. Therefore, I'd better write it down since I have the memory of a goldfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some lessons have included:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   1. How to use InDesign.&lt;br /&gt;   2. The proper way to write a creative brief.&lt;br /&gt;   3. I hate marketing research.&lt;br /&gt;   4. Sleeping in on Saturday mornings is a blessing.&lt;br /&gt;   5. No one in China speaks English. Not even a little.&lt;br /&gt;   6. I can sit at a computer for 12 straight hours.&lt;br /&gt;   7. Erin Haskell creates doodle masterpieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most important lessons have been what I've learned about myself. I'm a different person than when I started this program. I'm not sure exactly how it happened; I think it was a combination of love from my family, support from friends, personal realizations, career choices and a few lessons in the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of HOW it happened, I am a happier, more secure, more outgoing person than I was last August. I decided to go back to school because I didn't know what else to do with my life. At the age of 22, I had lost my identity. I had been dependent on others to make me happy for so long that I was afraid to be alone because I didn't know myself anymore. I forgot what it felt like to be passionate about something, to explore new ideas and get excited about new things and new people. It was not a pleasant place to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The IMC program and the people in it helped me to regain confidence in myself. That, in turn, helped me with all the other stuff. These past sixteen months have truly been a “bona venture” or “good journey” for me, for many, many reasons. I'll talk about them in future posts. For now, it's time for bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5874313810697616893-8529209159530227356?l=erbear9783.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/feeds/8529209159530227356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5874313810697616893&amp;postID=8529209159530227356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/8529209159530227356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5874313810697616893/posts/default/8529209159530227356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://erbear9783.blogspot.com/2007/12/personal-growth-project.html' title='Personal Growth Project'/><author><name>erbear9783</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06468062121257213924</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>
