<?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-11296014</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:49:02.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stringer's Bell</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>215</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114410277142982020</id><published>2006-04-03T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T15:19:31.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying it on for size...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.typepad.com/derby_and_string/"&gt;Check it out.&lt;/a&gt;  I think it's easier to read, but it will take some time to get used to.

I'll be over there for a minimum of 30 days.  Maybe longer.  We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114410277142982020?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114410277142982020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114410277142982020' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114410277142982020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114410277142982020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/04/trying-it-on-for-size.html' title='Trying it on for size...'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-114409987976465430</id><published>2006-04-03T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T14:37:47.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Rotten Scoundrel</title><content type='html'>That's me. Or as &lt;a href="http://nothingwittyleft.blogspot.com"&gt;Auntie Sassy &lt;/a&gt;would say it - I'm a dirty rotten sh*t.

That last post was a total April Fool's joke - meant to freak out my roommate because every Saturday she runs past my blog to see if there's anything she's missed in my life, since we honestly hardly ever see each other. (there's just puddles of yarn, she says, where I tread through the house after she goes to work and after she goes to bed.)

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(You guys were so sweet (there are &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://rabbitch.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;some exceptions&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; to that, of course) with your nice comments.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;

Needless to say, she freaked out and wanted to know why I had not told HER first before the ENTIRE INTERNET because she LIVES WITH ME and PUTS UP WITH MY SHIT and...then she realized what day it was and walked off like nothing had happened.

I heart my roommate.

And now for some heavy stuff, before I show off my purdy socks and my adorable child and his brilliance. I've been having some pretty severe health problems lately, which are going to require several doctors' visits over the next few weeks.

Nobody is really sure what is wrong with me, because the symptoms I am having all point to different things, and I cannot possibly be that sick and still walking around.

SO! Point of me telling you this IS - if I disappear for a while, it's not because I've given up the blog. It's because I'm dead. No, seriously, I may have to spend some time in the ol' hospital, but I'll keep y'all in the loop (without giving any fun details) as to what the hell is going on over here.

TO abruptly change the subject, and possibly give each and every one of you severe conversation whiplash, I give you the smartest and cutest child in the entire wide world, MHP. Or then again, you can just imagine how him and his rockin' science fair project look, because&lt;strong&gt; BLOGGER SUCKS BIGTIME AND IS NOT UPLOADING PICTURES AGAIN.
&lt;/strong&gt;
THAT'S IT, I'VE HAD IT. I am going right now to check out Typepad. &lt;strong&gt;YOU HEAR THAT, BLOGGER DUDES?&lt;/strong&gt; I'VE HAD IT WITH YOUR PICTURE UPLOADING PROBLEMS AND DOWNTIMES AND ALL OF THE OTHER BULLSHIT. I'm taking my toys and going home.

For you to while away the time it takes for me to figure out how I can justify paying for Typepad, take a look at &lt;a href="http://www.hollywoodrag.com/index.php?/gallery3/image_full2/2683/"&gt;this picture of Pamela Anderson&lt;/a&gt;, and tell me you don't worry about her children. First off, I can't say anything nice about her in this picture. Her hair is kind of helter-skelter, and her face...she looks tired. (Hello, lady who lives in the glass house? I'm looking more hideous than normal these days.) But the bruises on her arm are what freak me out. Don't those look like fingers to you? Some dude grabs ME that hard, you better realize his nose is going to be relocated under his right ear and his nuts packing up camp and moving into his upper abdomen. Hells to the no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114409987976465430?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114409987976465430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114409987976465430' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114409987976465430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114409987976465430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/04/dirty-rotten-scoundrel.html' title='Dirty Rotten Scoundrel'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114392304208953270</id><published>2006-04-01T12:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T12:24:02.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Foot in Mouth Disease Running Rampant</title><content type='html'>So you know how I've been excessively cranky lately and all messed up?

Well, for those of you on your computers on a weekend, you'll get the answer to why, and a special secret. 

TB, MHP and I (along with a chunk of family and friends who are available) are flying to Vegas on Wednesday for a wedding.

My wedding.  We've been planning this for a while, but I'm freaking out. 

Why am I freaking out?  This is all very weird, and I have another secret that TB can't know until after the wedding.  He doesn't know that I'm pregnant.  Only a couple of weeks, but still.

Me.  Pregnant.  Again.

*sigh*  Happy April 1st, everybody.  The joke's on me! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114392304208953270?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114392304208953270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114392304208953270' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114392304208953270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114392304208953270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/04/foot-in-mouth-disease-running-rampant.html' title='Foot in Mouth Disease Running Rampant'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114375482591253452</id><published>2006-03-30T13:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T13:41:56.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Babies, beers and brain damage</title><content type='html'>All of the things in the title are not completed all together. Well, not the baby part at least. I don't drink in front of the young and impressionable, unless you count my brother. Who is 23.

I am currently knitting my ass off (or fingers to the bone, or whatever you may choose) for an impending baby. Not mine, don't get excited. I am not pregnant. My co-worker is. Not the Twat, another one. Moving on.

She's so cute and girly and pregnant that it almost makes me want to have a baby. Then I remember how I should have had my right to be pregnant revoked because I was so bad at it. I was not glowing, I was sweaty. I was not glorious and angelic and Mary-like, I was mean and nasty and zit-faced. It was awful.

Of course, I got MHP out of the deal, so I'm good with the 9 months of barfing my face off and eating 2 Caesar salads a day. Oh, and the 19 pre-natal test series I had to go through because they thought MHP had Down Syndrome, because his head was so big. I tried to tell them everyone in my family has giant melon heads, but they didn't believe me. Then MHP was born, and they believed me. Dude's head was the size of a 6 month old's head, and he was super long. ANYWAY!!

I'M TALKING ABOUT KNITTING! Jesus, I'm wandering away in conversations now. I need a leash for my tongue.

SO! I'm knitting my ass off for said baby. The momma-to-be is into luxury things and girly bits, so it's a good thing she's having a girl. She would have been lost if it was a boy.

Everything I'm knitting is out of alpaca and cashmere and silk and blends of soft things, (there's a couple of acrylic things in there that are soft, AND she can put them in the washing machine!) and almost all of them are pink.

Y'all know me, (at least those of you that have stuck around for a while do...sort of) and I don't do pink. I don't wear pink, I don't really buy pink things...my main colour is black.

So I'm knitting the bebe a pair of black booties with little red stars. The petite chou is getting 5 pairs of booties and 3 hats from me, so I think she's going to be covered for a while in the shoe department. I love starting shoe whores at a young age. It's fabulous.

SO! I have no idea why I started writing this post, and I've had 2 Red Bulls and a Full Throttle, so I should probably stop typing now.

So I will stop, but only because the stupid Blogger is not uploading pictures AGAIN, so I can't tell the story about how I saw Monkey yesterday (I'm serious, I have PHOTOGRAPHIC PROOF) or explain the fireman throwing eggs off a ladder.

So y'all will have to wait one more day. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114375482591253452?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114375482591253452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114375482591253452' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114375482591253452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114375482591253452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/babies-beers-and-brain-damage.html' title='Babies, beers and brain damage'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-114367559916543340</id><published>2006-03-29T15:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T15:39:59.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm still here!</title><content type='html'>The Twat has declared war, so I am busy fighting the good fight. And winning :)

Today has been declared National "Tell Libby Big Secrets She Has to Keep to Herself" Day. I hate when people do that to me. I have had not one, not two, but SIX people come into my office and tell me things I'm not a) supposed to know and b) supposed to tell anyone else.

Lucky for them, I have a short memory :)

So, in lieu of a big long entry, here are some pictures from the past 5 days of my absence from blogland:

&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20298.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;A double rainbow (taken from the car, again...) last Friday, when the sky was literally half black and half blue&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20325.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Rat City Rollergirls!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20323.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The lady who sang the National Anthem at the bout, telling my father that he was "cheeky". (My father is a bible-thumper, yet he hearts roller derby. This is the first drag queen he's ever seen in real life up close. He almost had a heart attack.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20331.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Here's MHP, with his fan club sitting in front of him (he had 4-5 ladies my age following him everywhere because he's so engaging) and his &lt;strong&gt;GO SOCKIT WENCHES &lt;/strong&gt;pompom.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20343.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I spent my lunch break today watching this man drop eggs wrapped in various containers off a hook and ladder truck :)  Story tomorrow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;More tommorow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114367559916543340?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114367559916543340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114367559916543340' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114367559916543340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114367559916543340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m still here!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114323934349221707</id><published>2006-03-24T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T14:29:03.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Veni, Vici, Insanitee</title><content type='html'>I'm so suffering from &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0303816/"&gt;cabin fever&lt;/a&gt; right now. Well, maybe not THAT kind of Cabin Fever (I distinctly recall SEEING the movie, but not the movie istelf) but the kind that consumes your entire being and requires you to be completely irritated and nasty with everyone that comes your way, even the cute pregnant girl in your office.

And this Cabin Fever may or may not require you to write nasty emails and delete them before sending. It also may or may not require you to mutter "Stupid Twat" under one's breath everytime the Twat walks by. It also may or may not cause you to hide all of the tape dispensers and staplers and things of that size/bulk to prevent yourself from throwing them at the next person that comes along.

I have not left my desk in 4 hours. I cannot see outside. I want to punch someone. I really wish this giant stack of papers on my desk would burst into flame and provide some sort of entertainment for me, but NOOOOOO!!!

I'm sitting here listening to the Twat argue with the cell phone people about nothing (an extra $4 in text message charges on the boss man's phone because he got bored during a meeting) and to the dude down the hall with gastro-intestinal problems issue forth a belch of earth-shaking magnitudes....

It's great. I'm fucking ecstatic that it's Friday.

&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20289.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20289.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Someone pointed out that I neglected to post pictures of &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/weekend-update.html"&gt;the oven mitt and Socks that Rock Club stuff &lt;/a&gt;I got in the mail over the weekend, and they were right.  I do that sometimes.  I'm slow.

So to the left here, you will see a really kick-ass oven mitt that Angela over at &lt;a href="http://www.nashvillesnb.com"&gt;Nashville SNB&lt;/a&gt; made, because I told her my embarassing Martha Stewart story.  On the left of the picture, you'll see a skein of STR yarn, a bumper sticker that says "Don't come a knockin; if your socks ain't rockin", a pattern for socks (duh, I know) a button and a teensy tiny keychain skein of yarn that says "for emergency use".  Thought that was cute.

Anyhoo, yes, I've cast on for the socks, which means I have a grand total of 4 pairs of socks on the needles.  I'm not horrendously in love with this pattern...it's OK.  The colourway of the yarn is a little odd.  I'm not one to put yellow and brown together on purpose, but it looks OK in this pattern.  I'll have to post pictures if I get any more done this weekend.

Rat City playing tomorrow - &lt;a href="http://www.ratcityrollergirls.com/teams_tr.html"&gt;Throttle Rockets &lt;/a&gt;vs &lt;a href="http://www.ratcityrollergirls.com/teams_sw.html"&gt;Sockit Wenches&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.ratcityrollergirls.com/teams_dlf.html"&gt;Derby Liberation Front&lt;/a&gt; vs &lt;a href="http://www.ratcityrollergirls.com/teams_gd.html"&gt;Grave Danger.&lt;/a&gt;  So that will take up most of my weekend.

Hope you enjoy yours!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114323934349221707?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114323934349221707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114323934349221707' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114323934349221707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114323934349221707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/veni-vici-insanitee.html' title='Veni, Vici, Insanitee'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-114306978952828021</id><published>2006-03-22T15:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T15:23:09.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unfinished BeesWax</title><content type='html'>Here's a picture of the half-finished spider sock and my keyboard.  For &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20297.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;some reason, looking at that picture makes me a little seasick, but  I can't wait to wear these socks.

I &lt;a href="http://www.dailysixer.com/jamcd.shtml"&gt;love old commercials&lt;/a&gt;, don't you?

I normally despise Lindsay Lohan and everything she does.  However, the &lt;a href="http://movies.aol.com/movie_exclusive_a_prairie_home_companion?ncid=AOLMOV00150000000001"&gt;Prairie Home Companion &lt;/a&gt;looks cute.  And it has Tommy Lee Jones, Kevin Kline and Woody Harrelson in it, and you can't beat that trio.  (Unless Vin Diesel, Wentworth Miller and Jason Statham are half-naked and oiled up with cooking spray in my kitchen.  Then you really don't care about Kevin Kline and them.)

I was going to do a meme that &lt;a href="http://www.januaryone.com"&gt;Cara &lt;/a&gt;posted, but I'm tired and have already blogged a lot today, so I'm going to lie down and wait for this workday to be over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114306978952828021?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114306978952828021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114306978952828021' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114306978952828021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114306978952828021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/unfinished-beeswax.html' title='Unfinished BeesWax'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114306921269593679</id><published>2006-03-22T13:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T15:13:32.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff and Things</title><content type='html'>I'm kinda bored today. I have stuff to do, but I really have stopped caring.

I do, however, have a few random notes on life, and things that go bump in the night:

1. I love BuckCherry. I have no idea why. Their &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/buckcherryworldwide"&gt;new song&lt;/a&gt; is about my ho-bag friend, who will remain nameless.

2. I have finished something. I was talking to Christina during our yarn &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20280.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20280.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;crawl Saturday, and realized that I finish a whole &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20281.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mess of things that I don't tell y'all about. Today, the count is at 2 (actually, 1 1/2) things. I have&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20296.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20296.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; finished a Clapotis that I started...um...like 9 months ago? And a &lt;a href="http://knitty.com/ISSUEwinter05/PATTpomatomus.html"&gt;Pomomonohouthastous sock&lt;/a&gt;. (I call it the hippopotamous sock because I have no idea what the actual title is.) Here are some pictures. (Look at me! I am sort of smiling &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20294.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;instead of snarling like a rude little Irish girl! This is because I finished something!! I am, however, not wearing makeup. I look like death.)

3. I am stuck on a colour scheme for everything I am buying. It seems to be either oceanic colours, or black.  This is leaking into everything, including the new Saturn.  (Which is not so new, since I've had it for like 2 months, but apparently, I neglected to tell y'all I had bought a new car after the death of the Beast.)

4. I need sleeping pills.  I cannot sleep at night.  I wake up in a dead panic, convinced that someone is trying to break into the house.  It is usually only the &lt;strong&gt;GODDAMNED CAT&lt;/strong&gt; scuffling around in the bathtub.  I will, one day, learn to sleep through the cat's noises.  It's only been a year.

5. I just came from a meeting with the Twat and the Teletubby.  I couldn't look at either of them, which made speaking with them very difficult.  (For those of you who don't recall, the Teletubby is the sidekick for the VP that the Twat is temporarily supporting.  He has braces, and he's 50.  It makes me giggle.)  However, the greatest thing of all is that Teletubby told the Twat that she needs to find more to do. He says that I'm taking on so many responsibilities that she can't handle, that they're thinking of eliminating her position altogether. :)

I'm ecstatic.  That just means more work for me.  *sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114306921269593679?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114306921269593679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114306921269593679' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114306921269593679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114306921269593679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/stuff-and-things.html' title='Stuff and Things'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114299053036665151</id><published>2006-03-21T17:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T11:10:30.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20267.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20267.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Here is MHP. At his karate test, because he wants to be the Chuck Norris when he grows up.

Either that, or a rollergirl.

He is the darling one on the left.



Then, we have mail call. And yarn crawl bootay.

I went on a yarn crawl with MHP and Christina. We started off at &lt;a href="http://www.villageyarnandtea.com"&gt;Village&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Yarn%20Haul.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Yarn%20Haul.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.villageyarnandtea.com"&gt; Yarn &amp; Tea&lt;/a&gt;, where I bought a skein of Trekking XXL(#5 in the picture), since everyone and their mom has been raving about how neato-keen cool it is.  Then we went out to &lt;a href="http://www.acornstreet.com/"&gt;Acorn Street&lt;/a&gt;, where I bought a skein of Opal in American flag colours to make socks for MHP (his choice, #3 in the pic) and 2 skeins of Lorna's Laces in Camoflauge (#6) because I am obsessed with all things camo.

Then, off to &lt;a href="http://www.weavingworks.com"&gt;Weaving Works&lt;/a&gt;, where MHP got to pick something else out, the lovely blue Manos (#2) for a hat for himself.  Then to &lt;a href="http://www.tricoter.com/"&gt;Tricoter&lt;/a&gt;, where I proceeded to cuss out a breastfeeding woman (long story behind that) and almost hit a brand-new Saab (we were in the "upper class" neighborhood of Seattle) and generally be a pain in the butt.  I also bought a skein of Socks That Rock in Rolling Stone, even thought I knew I was getting more STR from my Sock Club :) (#4 is the STR)

As you can see, they did not last long in skein form, as I am in love with the ball winder that TB got my for Christmas.  MHP also hearts the ball winder. :)

I was exhausted after that, went home and crashed out on the couch.


&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Cari%20Yarn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Cari%20Yarn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Sunday was a BIG mail day. Yes, I know it was Sunday, but we do nothing all weekend, including fetch the mail.

What did I have in the mail, you ask?  Why this loverly package (see left) from &lt;a href="http://dogsstealyarn.com"&gt;Cari&lt;/a&gt;!  I bought some yarn/fiber from her when she had a big stash-busting sale.  #1 is a pound or so of merino (I think) in a colourway not named, but Cari calls it Melted Clown. So Melted Clown it is.  (No, I don't have a wheel.  Yes, I have more fiber than most people with a wheel.  I'm saving up.)  #2 is 2 skeins of a brushed kid mohair in some kick-ass reds, of which I should have really left in the skein (instead of winding it into a ball) because I want the blood-red as chunky highlights in my hair.  Ah, well.  #3 is a kit for making beaded spider socks that are so much fun to knit, that I almost finished the entire spider part last night while watching "Walk the Line".

A side note: I hate Reese Witherspoon with a deep and unbridled passion.  I don't understand why.  I've met her several times, and she is a very nice person.  It is inexplicable.  HOWEVER - I love her with an equally deep-running passion in "Walk the Line".  I don't think she deserved the Oscar (flame me all you want) for this movie.

More packages arrived this weekend - I got my &lt;a href="http://bluemoonfiberarts.com/sockclub.html"&gt;Socks that Rock Sock Club&lt;/a&gt; kit, and a really kick ass oven mitt from Angela at &lt;a href="http://www.nashvillesnb.com/"&gt;NashvilleSNB&lt;/a&gt;!  (I won the oven mitt by telling my embarassing Martha Stewart story that I will tell y'all some other time.)  I'll post pictures later - Blogger hates me again.

God, I should probably just bite the bullet and switch to Typepad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114299053036665151?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114299053036665151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114299053036665151' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114299053036665151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114299053036665151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/weekend-update.html' title='Weekend Update'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-114297855271483754</id><published>2006-03-21T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T14:48:40.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Green Jello Shots and the Ensuing Weekend</title><content type='html'>So. I love Saint Patrick's Day, and every Day-after-Saint-Patrick's-Day, I say I should not drink so much. *Sigh* I never listen to myself.

SO! I went to the Funhouse, and you people were not there. That's entirely OK, because I'm not 100% sure I would have known it was you, even if you identified yourself by your blog name.

The Throttle Rockets were having a shindig, and I wasn't entirely sure that we would stay all night. We got there at 10. I was drunk off my bar stool by 10:45. I saw a whole bunch of people I recognized, and lucky for me, one of my favorite RollerFans hung out with me so I wouldn't fall off my stool. It was gr8.

Here is a montage of pictures, of which you will have to discern your own captions. In fact, if you have good captions for any of these, feel free to share.
&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20266.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20266.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20252.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20252.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20262.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20262.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20256.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20253.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20253.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20254.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;

God. I am a drunk ho. I have to explain the kissing one...wait, no I don't. Make up your own story, but no. None of those dudes up there is TB. And I have no idea why my arm looks so giant in that last one with the cowboy dude.

SO! Onto sober things, and yarn of all kinds. Saturday started off entirely too early, with MHP's karate test.

Disregard peoples, Blogger has stopped uploading pictures AGAIN. I've apparently taxed the limits. I'll post the yarn crawl pictures and MHP's karate test pictures this afternoon or tomorrow morning.

PS - congratulations should be in order, I am the #5 result for a Google search for "&lt;a href="http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=catholic%20schoolgirl%20stripper&amp;FORM=MSNH&amp;amp;srch_type=0"&gt;Catholic Schoolgirl Stripper&lt;/a&gt;".  Let the party commence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114297855271483754?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114297855271483754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114297855271483754' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114297855271483754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114297855271483754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/green-jello-shots-and-ensuing-weekend.html' title='Green Jello Shots and the Ensuing Weekend'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114263386266487671</id><published>2006-03-17T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T16:42:29.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow.  Beware of the Girly-Bits.</title><content type='html'>I am having a day, people. Or, as the case may be, I am having one of those months. One of the months where the stupidity of some people is absolutely FLOORING to me, and I just walk right by like "Yeah, whatev. Do what you want, just don't involve me.

Some people apparently have too much money and really don't care that they were a kick-ass Jedi Master at one point in their career, so they make a &lt;a href="http://dlisted.blogspot.com/2006/03/this-is-actual-movie.html"&gt;movie like this&lt;/a&gt;. My head hurts just thinking about it.

Then, there are self-important pompous dickweeds who are actually gender-less aliens who pretend to knock up a virginal Catholic schoolgirl to promote their image and jump on couches on international television and act like utter morons, and then force Comedy Central to &lt;a href="http://dlisted.blogspot.com/2006/03/power-of-cruise.html"&gt;cancel an episode of South Park&lt;/a&gt;. Good thing you can find that &lt;a href="http://www.idontlikeyouinthatway.com/2006/03/tom-cruise-is-jackass.html"&gt;entire episode here&lt;/a&gt;.

Then there are people who are Irish by decent, and act like utter idiots on Saint Patrick's Day because they feel they are entitled. Oh, you want an example?

&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20241.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20241.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me. I am a prime example. I have a specific sweater from an outdated hockey team, the Toronto St. Pats, that I wear EVERY YEAR. And have since I was 14. You say you've never heard of the St. Pats? Well, they &lt;a href="http://www.cupstuff.com/nhl/toronto/mlsp22champc_m.htm"&gt;won the Stanley Cup in 1922&lt;/a&gt;, and they're known today as the &lt;a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/toronto-maple-leafs"&gt;Toronto Maple Leafs&lt;/a&gt;.

Yes, I am a dork.

I also have a recent addition to my Saint Patty's Day wardrobe, the &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20242.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20242.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Everyone Loves an Irish Girl" teeshirt, bought last year at the local Target store for $1.99. (Ignore my sullen look. It's an Irish thing. We drink and fight, it makes us tired. Plus, I can't seem to find my mascara.)

I also have my green Jaywalker socks, but I'm not wearing those today because they're dirty.

MOVING ON!

If anyone in the general Seattle area cares to join me for some Irish/Roller Derby revelry this evening, I will be at the Funhouse around 9.

Look for the redhead with the beer. I know, that sort of narrows it down. You should probably LISTEN for the LOUD redhead with the beer.

Maybe that's not a good clue. Hey, if you want, come on down. Should be a good time - the &lt;a href="http://www.ratcityrollergirls.com/teams_tr.html"&gt;Throttle Rockets&lt;/a&gt; are hosting a party down there.

&lt;strong&gt;PS?  I love that I'm drinking an &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sapporobeer.jp/english/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Asian produced beer &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;on an Irish holiday.  One of the people from our Asia-based team just came and toasted everyone.  And now my cheeks are all red.&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Time to go home!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114263386266487671?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114263386266487671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114263386266487671' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114263386266487671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114263386266487671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/wow-beware-of-girly-bits.html' title='Wow.  Beware of the Girly-Bits.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114247235062534476</id><published>2006-03-15T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T17:25:50.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To provide entertainment and wittiness</title><content type='html'>In place of an actual blog today, I have found the following links to keep you entertained.  I am trying to find the other half of my brain, and my rollerskates s I can properly pound someone into the rink tonight at practice.

I will make up for it tomorrow.  I promise.

&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.orisinal.com"&gt;This is more fun &lt;/a&gt;than a bucket of chicken.  (No, I don't know what that means.  I just waste a lot of time, causing a lot of hurried task-finishing at the end of the day) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Can't watch television because you have derby practice on Sundays at the same time as Grey's Anatomy and Desperate Housewives? (Not that I watch either of those shows, but GOOD GOD why did Meredith sleep with George, and what the hell are they doing to Bree?)  &lt;a href="http://www.televisionwithoutpity.com"&gt;Read up here&lt;/a&gt;, it will do you some good.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go see the &lt;a href="http://gofugyourself.typepad.com"&gt;girls with the Fug&lt;/a&gt;.  I cannot stop laughing sometimes at them.  With them.  At their writing.  Whatever.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Here is an &lt;a href="http://www.worth1000.com/galleries.asp?rel=Evil+Twin&amp;display=photoshop&amp;amp;id=9377"&gt;entire gallery of people&lt;/a&gt; with a love for Photoshop and a lot of skills.  Mad skills.  Like bow-hunting skills. And computer-hacking skills.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I need a nap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114247235062534476?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114247235062534476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114247235062534476' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114247235062534476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114247235062534476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/to-provide-entertainment-and-wittiness.html' title='To provide entertainment and wittiness'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114238412521618031</id><published>2006-03-14T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T16:56:55.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll be nicer when you'll be smarter.</title><content type='html'>So, I will give you the Cliff Notes version of what is going on currently in the State of DeNile. (aka my workplace, where everybody pretends that nothing is wrong. The elephant gets ignored.)

&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have not yet punched the Twat. But I would really like to kick her in the box.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My boss went to bat for me with the &lt;a href="http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==8887"&gt;Big Man&lt;/a&gt; (aka the VP, Twat's "boss" right now.). Big Man is scared of me, since he is only 5 foot 5, and I am an &lt;a href="http://www.amazonarchives.com/"&gt;Amazon woman&lt;/a&gt;. Big Man told the Twat that she needs to leave me alone, because she is not my boss.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Twat spent most of yesterday &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Veruca_Salt"&gt;pouting in her office &lt;/a&gt;with the door closed. When she came and went from her office, she slammed her door really hard. A picture fell off my wall. I promptly fell out of my chair laughing. This only &lt;a href="http://www.jewelryshopping.com/~comp67263/57482942.jpg"&gt;enraged her further&lt;/a&gt;. I didn't care. It was the greatest moment ever.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had to try really hard not to gloat yesterday and today. I really wanted to &lt;a href="http://people.smartchat.net.au/~flutenveg/press.html"&gt;point and laugh.&lt;/a&gt; But I worked...instead of calling everyone I know to bitch about the problem, knowing FULL WELL THAT MY NEIGHBORS CAN HEAR ME. Silly Twat, Trix are for kids!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm done with this for now. Until she comes into my office again. Then I'll have to hurt her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Practice on Sunday was BAD ASS. Our coach, Warden Peace (ha! He used to be a prison warden; I take FULL CREDIT for his name!) let us have BOUTING practice!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The short version, for those of us just joining the program, is that we skated around in circles and hit each other real hard. The long version can be found &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roller_derby"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;- if you're interested in the intricacies of derby. (And &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/ipod/ads/rollerskating/480.html"&gt;this is just plain cool&lt;/a&gt;...I like Apple ads. I am a nerd.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I went balls to the wall, for this one. I'm one of the bigger girls on our team, height-wise and girth-wise. I'm a menace. I took out half of the team before I landed on my own skate on my already injured posterior.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Needless to say, I think I'll have to hit up a couple more blocking drills before trying to seriously injure other people. Doesn't mean it wasn't the best thing I've done in weeks... *wink*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And to end a really loverly post, here are some pictures from the &lt;a href="http://ratcityrollergirls.com"&gt;Rat City &lt;/a&gt;Charity Brawl a couple of weeks ago. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nevermind. Blogger is not uploading photos, and apparently is arguing with me. I will post this post before it deletes all my wittiness.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ps - finished the body and hood of the Rogue. Started a sleeve. I just may have this finished by Friday. And by saying that, I've guaranteed that I will end up in tears at 3 am on Friday morning because I cannot figure out how to set in sleeves on the goddamned thing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114238412521618031?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114238412521618031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114238412521618031' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114238412521618031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114238412521618031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/ill-be-nicer-when-youll-be-smarter.html' title='I&apos;ll be nicer when you&apos;ll be smarter.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114203643319936652</id><published>2006-03-10T16:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T16:20:33.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's on, like Donkey Kong.</title><content type='html'>Oh, things are getting messy here at work.  The Twat thinks she's my boss now and I may get fired at any second if I follow my gut and throw this tape dispenser at her.  (No, not the plastic ones that you find in the store, the heavy black ones that look cool and work as window breakers if necessary.)

I'll keep you posted, but if I still haven't posted by Tuesday, you'll know I'm probably in the clink for kicking her fat butt.

I have my skates in the car, just in case ass-whupping is on the menu today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114203643319936652?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114203643319936652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114203643319936652' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114203643319936652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114203643319936652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/its-on-like-donkey-kong.html' title='It&apos;s on, like Donkey Kong.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114202830666709878</id><published>2006-03-10T13:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-11T14:27:15.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*insert witty title here*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Elvgren%20Redhead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Elvgren%20Redhead.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, hello there internets. I have not seen you in quite some time. At least since yesterday. Wasn't yesterday Tuesday?

&lt;p&gt;I am tired, I am cranky. I am overly sensitive. I am not witty today at all, and the Twat is back on the rampage. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I had no energy to deal with her yesterday, so I shut the door to my office.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As a gesture of thanks for shutting my door to keep all of the insanity and cuss words &lt;strong&gt;in&lt;/strong&gt; my office, I get the following email from the Twat (who sits next door to me):&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Libby I would ask that you please have your door either fixed or stop slamming your door ASAP!!!!
You constantly are slamming your door and it’s very disturbing especially when I’m on important phone calls for {the Vice President}!!!

Thanks, The Twat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Dear The Twat, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I have several problems with this email. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nobody constantly does &lt;strong&gt;ANYTHING&lt;/strong&gt;.  Unless you are OCD.  Quit exaggerating.  You're constantly blowing things way out of proportion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The grammar is atrocious, as it is with most of the emails I receive from you. (To and Too are TWO different words. It's a wonder you know how to use them. Oh, and they're and their are two different words. &lt;strong&gt;THEY ARE NOT INTERCHANGABLE&lt;/strong&gt;). I'm no college graduate, but I have a bit of appreciation for the English language. Don't abuse your right to use it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;You're representing the VP of our organization. Do not take his name in vain, and do not use eleventy billion exclamation points in a two sentence email, citing him as the excuse. The important phone calls of which you speak are usually to the cellular telephone companies to try and find out what's wrong with one of his 9 cell phones he uses. (No, I'm not kidding. I don't know why he has 9 different phones. Maybe he likes to call himself.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm sure my boss would approve the $450 charge to put a piston door jam thing (I don't know the word for it, but it stops doors from slamming) onto my office door because it disturbs you.  Let me go ask him.  I'm sure he won't laugh out loud and ask me if I'm joking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;If you didn't slam your door every 18 minutes, vacuum at least 2 times per day and play &lt;strong&gt;CELINE DION&lt;/strong&gt; at top volume all day long (without bothering to turn it off when you leave for your 2 hour lunch) then I would probably be a little more receptive to your constructive criticism.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;You hide behind your emails. You can't tell me stupid things like this to my face (&lt;strong&gt;HELLO&lt;/strong&gt;! I work a whole &lt;strong&gt;9 STEPS AWAY FROM YOU&lt;/strong&gt;!) but you can berate me in email? Pussy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My boss sits on the other side of you and slams his door all day long. Would you like me to forward this email to him to let him know how much you appreciate it? I thought not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I wouldn't have as much of a problem with this if I didn't hear you call me "&lt;strong&gt;insubordinate&lt;/strong&gt;" this morning in conversation with another of the Menopause Squad. (Oh, and "&lt;strong&gt;insubordinated&lt;/strong&gt;" is &lt;strong&gt;NOT A WORD&lt;/strong&gt;.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Much love, hugs and kisses,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Slammer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I might be overly irritated by this, and you may think I'm just being a total idiot (or a Twat, as the case may be) but add up all the stuff I haven't told you about that she's done, plus the fact that I have a migraine and a pulled hamstring, PLUS I think I'm coming down with something, and it all adds up to the fact that I'm whining about something I really could care less about.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I just like to have something to blog about :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Skating last night and Wednesday night went really well. I need to start sleeping more...I've been averaging about 5-6 hours of sleep per night, and that makes it hard to practice when you're falling asleep during laps.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I'm working on finishing the Rogue sweater by Friday (next Friday) since it's green, and I'd like to wear it for St. Patty's Day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'll post more pictures (than this one lonely pic) of the Rat City bout tomorrow or Monday - I'm warning you now, though...they're pretty grainy. The lighting was bad. And my camera skills suck. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Happy Friday everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114202830666709878?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114202830666709878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114202830666709878' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114202830666709878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114202830666709878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/insert-witty-title-here.html' title='*insert witty title here*'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114186180499877531</id><published>2006-03-08T15:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T15:50:05.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>200th post!</title><content type='html'>I was planning on filling this second blogger milestone in as many days with pictures of roller derby girls and some stories of what happened at the bout this past weekend.

Then my computer crashed again.  Fan failure, and "thermal event"...whatever that means.  Like it's a volcanic eruption coming out of my CPU.  Stupid computer.

So I got nothin' today.  I refuse to talk about the Twat atall...regardless of the fact that I had an entire post written about how irritating and brain-damage-causing she is, and then my computer randomly shut down.

MHP is doing really well...no major incidents to report as of right now.  TB is fine...um....the roommate hasn't killed me yet for not having the Beast towed as of today...I think that's all I've got.

I've got practice tonight, so I'm all ready to punish myself on wheels :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114186180499877531?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114186180499877531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114186180499877531' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114186180499877531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114186180499877531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/200th-post.html' title='200th post!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114177425072535258</id><published>2006-03-07T14:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T15:30:50.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger-versary?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/03/bit-about-me.html"&gt;One year ago today, PomPom introduced me to the world of blogging.&lt;/a&gt;

And nothing has quite been the same since then.

When I first started out, I had no idea what I was doing.  I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/07/lavender-festival.html"&gt;blabbed on and on about nothing &lt;/a&gt;in particular to nobody in particular for a long time.  &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/07/letter-to-pie-hat.html"&gt;I wrote letters to my knitting.&lt;/a&gt;  And then &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/07/addendum-to-letter-for-pie-hat.html"&gt;another letter &lt;/a&gt;to the same knitting project.  (Which, incidentally, I never did finish.) I wrote a letter &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/08/letter-to-burning-toast-man.html"&gt;to a man who burnt toast &lt;/a&gt;in the office kitchen.

&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/07/comments.html"&gt;I openly begged people for comments&lt;/a&gt;, and got some.

I started with &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/07/makeshift-skein-winder.html"&gt;pictures from my cell phone&lt;/a&gt;, and progressed to pictures from a real big girl camera.

I made &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/07/blog-post_27.html"&gt;mistakes&lt;/a&gt;.

I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/07/mariners-confusing-photographic-yarn.html"&gt;went to a Mariner's game&lt;/a&gt; (Stitch &amp; Pitch!) and I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/08/argh.html"&gt;met the Harlot&lt;/a&gt;.  I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/08/to-tide-you-over.html"&gt;went to Las Vegas &lt;/a&gt;and celebrated&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/09/give-girl-break-will-ya.html"&gt; MHP's first day of kindergarten&lt;/a&gt;.

I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/09/calling-all-lurkers.html"&gt;took &lt;/a&gt;a &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/09/big-insight.html"&gt;WHOLE&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/09/oh-jeez.html"&gt;LOT of&lt;/a&gt; quizzes.

&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/09/im-done.html"&gt;MHP had issues at school.&lt;/a&gt;  I mourned the &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/09/bad-news.html"&gt;death of our blogging-cam.&lt;/a&gt;  I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/10/delay-fish.html"&gt;mourned the death of my relationship with TB&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/story-time-kids.html"&gt;TB came back.&lt;/a&gt;

We &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/doggie-sweaters-marlboro-lights-and.html"&gt;got a smoking ban, I was the "fat friend"&lt;/a&gt; and I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/conversations-in-office.html"&gt;posted random IM messages&lt;/a&gt; from Vegas Shannon.

We will not speak of Goliath.  Or anything to do with him - that's still a sore subject for me.

&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/fos-and-giant-turkeys.html"&gt;We had a giant turkey.&lt;/a&gt; A couple of them, in fact.  It &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/oh-my-god-they-were-right.html"&gt;snowed about 1 bazillionth of an inch &lt;/a&gt;and the &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/sky-is-falling.html"&gt;entire Seattle Metro area freaked out&lt;/a&gt;.

&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/map-this-peoples.html"&gt;I got drunk at work, and jumped on the Frappr bandwagon.&lt;/a&gt;  I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/didja-miss-me.html"&gt;took a&lt;/a&gt; couple &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/bad-news-and-more-airplanes.html"&gt;(or 3) business trips&lt;/a&gt;.  I had my &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/glad-i-didnt-get-arrested-for.html"&gt;annual Christmas nervous breakdown&lt;/a&gt;.

&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/ow-and-oops-and-thank-god-im-home.html"&gt;I got a new tattoo&lt;/a&gt;. I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/drugs-onions-and-joy.html"&gt;peeled the "onion&lt;/a&gt;".  I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/want-hint.html"&gt;started up with roller derby&lt;/a&gt;. I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/gasp.html"&gt;celebrated the arrival&lt;/a&gt; of the new blogging-cam.

&lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-today.html"&gt;I had another birthday.&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20140.jpg"&gt;Doesn't everyone whip out their cameras driving down the street to take pictures of the mountains for their blogs&lt;/a&gt;?

Anyway - so that's a year in the life of Stringer's Bell.

Happy Tuesday :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114177425072535258?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114177425072535258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114177425072535258' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114177425072535258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114177425072535258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/blogger-versary.html' title='Blogger-versary?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114176312392846229</id><published>2006-03-07T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T12:33:41.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*totally talking about work*</title><content type='html'>I know most of you have had the one person in your job history that annoys you so much that you literally have to sit on your hands to prevent yourself from choking the life right out of them while they blab on and on and on about answers to questions nobody cares about. (And if you haven't, it's because &lt;a href="http://houndhollow.typepad.com/pinkpurlgrrl"&gt;you are a very sweet person&lt;/a&gt; and I can't imagine you not getting along with anyone.)

Which brings us to why I have been notably (or not-so-notably) absent from the internets for 4 whole days.

The twat is still here. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Random side note: I am cutting my hairs tonight. I have not sat down since Friday morning, or I would have done it earlier.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;

Not only is she still here, but she's launched a campaign with 3 very serious goals, all of which have an impact on my sanity/work-life/ability to stay out of jail. Here, in a nutshell, are the goals of this campaign:

&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;To ask as many inane and mind-numbing questions as possible, while wasting as much time of as many people as one is able to.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; You want examples? We had a giant breakfast meeting with the corporate VP yesterday morning (Monday). At 3pm Friday, I call the catering department to confirm that there will be food. Long story short, there's no food because it was never ordered. BFD, right? The Twat launches on an email tirade about what a disaster this would have been if nobody had caught this and how bad this looks and how terrible this all is (NOTE: NOONE WOULD HAVE KNOWN IF SHE HAD NOT SAID ANYTHING). And CC's our department head and a bunch of other mucky mucks on the email. When they respond saying "Well, it's a good thing Libby caught it then, huh?", she says "But what would have happened if she didn't catch it? Who would have taken care of it? I'm only filling in, and I don't have the time to learn all of the intricacies of the job!" (Take note of that last part. It's important for the storyline)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;To muck up as much stuff as possible, causing FUBAR situations and forcing someone else (read: Libby) to have to clean up the mess.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; So I am typing this from a loaner computer, because my regular desktop I use at work has overheated and needs a new part. (The tech guy says I work too hard, and I blew out the exhaust fan making my computer work so hard. HA!) So I'm a little slow, because I've been setting up all of my profiles, downloading my necessary tools, etc, so I can actually DO MY JOB. She came into my office yesterday morning (being well-apprised of the situation) looking panicked. "We're supposed to have this video meeting tomorrow morning, and there's no technician scheduled to assist!!" she whines. Duh. That's because I went through 4 hours of training a couple of weeks ago so I could set up these meetings myself and not bother with technicians, who are always late and never helpful. So I explain that to her, and she says "Ok, well I'll call and schedule the technician then." So I have to spend a half hour on the phone with the tech guy (when he calls, because he's confused as to why I wouldn't handle this) explaining. *sigh*. Then there was the narrowly-avoided Korea ticket disaster, where I was handling the VP's travel for NEXT WEEK because she said she was too busy, and she returned the tickets to travel when they were delivered because she didn't order them and didn't know what they were for. Which, in turn, caused me to have to drive to the travel department to wait for the courier to retrieve them again. The other one is a really long complicated stupid story that I'll email offline (hotrodlibbyloo AT yahoo DOT com) if you want to hear it because I'm getting tired of typing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;To actually interview and possibly take over Pom's old position.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Hence the reason I told you to remember the last line of #1. If she interviews for this position and gets it, you can be damned POSITIVE that I will not stay here. I've already expressed this to the HR department, my boss and her possible future boss. I've made it abundantly clear that yes, I am being 12 years old and pouty, but it is increasingly difficult for me to do both my job and her job for the interim, and that she has FUBAR-ed more situations than I care to explain &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(oh would you like examples Libby's Boss and HR lady? Of course, here are 10 pages of emails sent in the last 2 days that you both have also received on the recent Breakfast Catering Fiasco Narrowly Avoided. Read up.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and I don't want to be put in a long-term position to continue this, when she would be in a "more senior" position and getting paid nearly twice what I do. And I would not get hazard or combat pay.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I'm looking for another job.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No injuries to report from Sunday's practice, but I did go to the Charity Brawl for the &lt;a href="http://www.ratcityrollergirls.com"&gt;Rat City Rollergirls&lt;/a&gt; on Saturday, and when my normal computer comes back from the sick bay, I'll post some pictures and tell some kick ass stories.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;thanks for all the nice comments, and &lt;a href="http://ryanbrothers1.blogspot.com"&gt;Joe&lt;/a&gt;, your hat will come soon enough. Quit asking.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114176312392846229?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114176312392846229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114176312392846229' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114176312392846229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114176312392846229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/totally-talking-about-work.html' title='*totally talking about work*'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114134235218332881</id><published>2006-03-02T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T16:12:14.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"You know what would be fun?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/elvgren%20haircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/elvgren%20haircut.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
I wholly believe &lt;a href="http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/archives/2006/02/28/the_podium.html"&gt;Stephanie&lt;/a&gt; when she says that some of the most remarkable things that happen start out with that simple phrase:

&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"You know what would be fun?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;

&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That's how I got into roller derby..and coincidentally, how we had that "issue" with the clothing-impaired woman. (Read: fight with the stripper)

&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That's how I moved out of my parents' house, how we found one of the &lt;a href="http://seattle.citysearch.com/profile/10774490/seattle_wa/beth_s_cafe.html?#sponsorTop"&gt;greatest breakfast places ever&lt;/a&gt;, and how I went to a rodeo and almost wound up riding in an equestrian drill team in the opening ceremonies (until I realized that I was wearing a silk skirt and heels, and that would not do on a horse.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;

So I'm embarking on several adventures starting today:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cutting my own hair this evening. (Hence the Elvgren pin-up up there.) I'm tired of having boring hair, and apparently, I've decided that cutting it myself will make it more exciting. Don't worry, I have plenty of hair, I won't end up bald. Unless hair-cutting is like gambling, and you can't stop until you're busted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dying my hair a colour not naturally found on heads. Don't worry, I'm not dying all of it. Just part of it. Crayola Red chunks. I don't know how long it will last. We'll see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm gutting my house. Not a remodel (I rent) but throwing things out and getting rid of clothes that don't fit and crap I don't use anymore (Like the Beast. Yes, it's still sitting in front of my house. Don't laugh.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm taking more risks with my skating. I've been so incredibly safe at practice lately, that I should just not bother going skating atall. I nee to push myself harder and work harder to get to my goals. I won't make a team in the fall if I don't want it badly enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Play more with MHP (whose name I typed and erased 3 times before I finally typed MHP. I have issues, people) I feel like, with everything going on with me, I'm not paying enough attention to him. I suck like that sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I think that's it. Oh, and I'm designing a super-top-secret project for myself (along with the no chance in hell legwarmers) that I'll let y'all know about when I'm all done. Trust me, it's way super awesome.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114134235218332881?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114134235218332881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114134235218332881' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114134235218332881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114134235218332881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/you-know-what-would-be-fun.html' title='&quot;You know what would be fun?&quot;'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114125348147720618</id><published>2006-03-01T14:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T17:08:16.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*not talking about work*</title><content type='html'>So I'm going to do everything I can not to talk about work for a whole blog post. Except for that part right there.

SO! Um...I got nothin'.

That's not true! I have a visit to the "talking doctor" (aka Dr. Granola, my shrink, whom I adore) to talk out my issues with my mother. And the fact that every time I talk to her, I want to slap her silly. A lot. And the fact that she berates me like I'm 12 and caught smoking every time I do something SHE THINKS IS WRONG, it's just retarded.

I would totally cut her RIGHT OFF if MHP didn't go to her house every afternoon for an hour or so after school...and he enjoys it. Yes, I'm looking for alternatives in childcare for him.

After the talking doctor, I have practice.

MHP is coming with me - he always enjoys getting to watch us skate and possibly skate a little himself. He's turning out to be a real ace on those skates, I'm telling you.

I plan on doing a lot of falling drills tonight to test out the new-to-me kneepads, and see if I can find some other wrist guards instead of the cheapo ones I have.

I have a plan to knit myself some legwarmers for practice!! They'll have &lt;a href="http://www.theanticraft.com/archive/samhain05/snowballschance.htm"&gt;this pattern &lt;/a&gt;(a snowflake morphing into a skull) on one leg, and "&lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;A CHANCE&lt;/strong&gt;" on the other leg. Since I'm practicing to be a blocker (meaning I'm supposed to keep people from getting by me) I thought those would be appropriate, non?

I thought I would do it in black and white...or black and red? Any suggestions??

PS - for those of you interested in learning about roller derby, check out these websites:

&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Rolllergirls on A&amp;E have a good video series on the rules of roller derby, bruises and fighting, and the parental unit perspective. &lt;a href="http://www.aetv.com/rollergirls/rg_featured_clips.jsp"&gt;Check it out&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you live in a major Metropolitan area (no, I don't know why I capitalized that word), chances are, there's a league near you. Check the &lt;a href="http://www.usrollergirls.com/leagues"&gt;US Rollergirls website of leagues here&lt;/a&gt;. (PS - there's a BIG difference between Banked Track and Flat Track. I sk8 flat track.) GO SEE A BOUT! I'm telling you, the best entertainment there is. Ever. Period.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;For those of you cerebral types, check the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roller_derby"&gt;Wikipedia entry here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Any other questions - leave a comment, normally I can help you out :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE: I need to start being more upbeat IMMEDIATELY.  I am result #7 for the Google Search "&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&amp;q=disabled%20lonely%20abandoned%20divorce&amp;amp;btnG=Google%20Search"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;abandoned, lonely, disabled, divorce&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;."  HAPPY PEOPLE!! TIME FOR THE HAPPY!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114125348147720618?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114125348147720618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114125348147720618' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114125348147720618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114125348147720618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/03/not-talking-about-work.html' title='*not talking about work*'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114117200401222101</id><published>2006-02-28T15:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T16:13:24.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Work!  It's interfering with BLOGGING!!</title><content type='html'>Sorry, I totally forgot about the blog this morning. Normally, I come in and sit down and check my work email account, and then check my personal email, and then check out some blogs, and then hunker down to work, but here's how this morning went:

&lt;strong&gt;8:15&lt;/strong&gt; - &lt;strong&gt;ME&lt;/strong&gt; - "MHP!! We have to get up and go to school!"
           &lt;strong&gt;MHP&lt;/strong&gt; - "Mama, I'm already watching Jakers.  Chill down."

&lt;strong&gt;8:25&lt;/strong&gt; - &lt;strong&gt;ME&lt;/strong&gt; - "WHERE ARE MY SHOES??"
            &lt;strong&gt;MHP&lt;/strong&gt; - "I put them right by the door."

&lt;strong&gt;8:35&lt;/strong&gt; (as we're heading towards the car) "WHERE ARE MY KEYS?"
           &lt;strong&gt;MHP&lt;/strong&gt; - "They're in your hand."

&lt;strong&gt;9 &lt;/strong&gt;- get MHP into his kindergarten class right as the bell rings.  The principal (who, as you may recall, I have had to speak with several times) shot me nasty looks.  I smiled and waved.  Then I ran to my car before he could corner me to ask me "How are you doing?"  I hate that.  He's so frigging condescending, and keeps telling me "I know how you feel."

&lt;strong&gt;Side note&lt;/strong&gt; - he has a penis and a wife.  He has NO IDEA HOW I FEEL and should not assure me that he does.  Be a PMSing single mom.  Then you tell me how you feel.

&lt;strong&gt;9:22 -&lt;/strong&gt; I walk into the building.  Now, let me tell you that the front door is about an &lt;strong&gt;ENTIRE BUILDING&lt;/strong&gt; away from where my office is.  The front door is at the front of the building.  My office is at the very back.

For some reason, when I walk in, my boss is standing at the receptionist's desk and demands to know where I've been all morning.  Um, I've worked the 9:30 to 6 shift (with a couple hours at night thrown in for good measure) since September.  I don't know what his issue is.

He starts tossing issues at me like I have a steno pad and a pen all ready, with my pencil skirt and my bun and my secretary hat on.  (PS - I wear jeans and sneakers to work.  I can't run up and down the halls with a skirt on.  Plus I have fat calves.)  I tell him I need him to send me a mail (seeing as how my hands are full with my purse, my gym bag, 2 bags of swag to store in my office and 3 packages I retrieved from the receptionist. )

He gets huffy and storms off.

&lt;strong&gt;9:32 -&lt;/strong&gt; after encountering several people with the same agenda as my boss (asking questions and requesting meetings when I'm not at my desk), I finally make it to my office.  Which I don't recognize at first, because there are &lt;strong&gt;MORE BOXES EVERYWHERE&lt;/strong&gt;.  Plus, I have about 19 little teeny post-it notes &lt;strong&gt;ALL OVER MY DOOR.&lt;/strong&gt;

&lt;strong&gt;9:37 -&lt;/strong&gt; I boot up my computer.  I have 214 unread emails since 9pm last night.

I have a headache.

So, I stole this check-list from &lt;a href="http://buddingnip.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rose&lt;/a&gt;, because it's cool and I'm really tired of bitching about my job.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;mood:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; raging pissed, yet quite calm.  I'm the eye of a hurricane.  I've also decided to cut off all socializing with EVERYONE I work with, save a select few.  Who I never see.  So hermit-ville, here I come!
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;cravings:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Butterfinger Crisp, knitting with merino, skating.  I want to skate.  Right now.
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;underwear:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; black low-rise, with "PUSSYCAT DOLLS, LAS VEGAS" right across the seat
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;vices succumbed to:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Ham &amp; Brie baguette sammich, new books...a little online shopping
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;self-mutilation:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; dug into my wrist with the end of a paper clip to see how long it would take me to bleed.  I like to cause my own pain.
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;fears:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; my mother screaming at me, my car breaking down, people stealing my sanity
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;hateful thought:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; "She really should not eat that cake.  She should just mash it all together and plaster it on her big fat ass.  Or stop bothering me.  Twat."
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;hopeful thought:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I bought MHP a new book, and I want to read it to him before he goes to sleep tonight.  And I got paid.
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;dinner:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; probably Quizno's chicken club sandwich
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;profanity:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; all the time.  Hard to pick one or two.  Had a string of connected ones in a tirade against my retarded computer that lasted about a minute and a half.  (One would think that, working at a very important COMPUTER COMPANY, one would have a computer that works.  Such is life when you agree to beta-test software.  Fuck.)
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;friends:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Crazy Melissa called.  Haven't heard from her in a while.  TB called, to let me know he'll help out with the bout this weekend, but only if it doesn't take all day.  He doesn't care about the free ticket he gets, he just wants to help me out.  AWWWW!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114117200401222101?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114117200401222101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114117200401222101' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114117200401222101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114117200401222101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/work-its-interfering-with-blogging.html' title='Work!  It&apos;s interfering with BLOGGING!!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114107504088388405</id><published>2006-02-27T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T13:17:20.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zzzzzzzzzzzz</title><content type='html'>I'm exhausted today. I'm a night owl, so I HATE HATE HATE getting up in the mornings.

I'm phoning in my blog entry for today by posting this, which I stole from &lt;a href="http://nothingwittyleft.blogspot.com"&gt;the Sass.&lt;/a&gt;

No, I don't have any idea why the space is so big.  I have a headache and a pile of paperwork threatening to choke me.  No time to deal with spacing issues :)
&lt;table cellpadding="20" align="center"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td align="middle"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;the Romantic&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;you chose BY - your Enneagram type is FOUR.
&lt;p&gt;
&lt;h2&gt;"I am unique"&lt;/h2&gt;
&lt;p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Romantics have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;How to Get Along with Me &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Give me plenty of compliments. They mean a lot to me.
&lt;li&gt;Be a supportive friend or partner. Help me to learn to love and value myself.
&lt;li&gt;Respect me for my special gifts of intuition and vision.
&lt;li&gt;Though I don't always want to be cheered up when I'm feeling melancholy, I sometimes like to have someone lighten me up a little.
&lt;li&gt;Don't tell me I'm too sensitive or that I'm overreacting! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;What I Like About Being a Four &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;my ability to find meaning in life and to experience feeling at a deep level
&lt;li&gt;my ability to establish warm connections with people
&lt;li&gt;admiring what is noble, truthful, and beautiful in life
&lt;li&gt;my creativity, intuition, and sense of humor
&lt;li&gt;being unique and being seen as unique by others
&lt;li&gt;having aesthetic sensibilities
&lt;li&gt;being able to easily pick up the feelings of people around me &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;What's Hard About Being a Four &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;experiencing dark moods of emptiness and despair
&lt;li&gt;feelings of self-hatred and shame; believing I don't deserve to be loved
&lt;li&gt;feeling guilty when I disappoint people
&lt;li&gt;feeling hurt or attacked when someone misundertands me
&lt;li&gt;expecting too much from myself and life
&lt;li&gt;fearing being abandoned
&lt;li&gt;obsessing over resentments
&lt;li&gt;longing for what I don't have &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Fours as Children Often &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;have active imaginations: play creatively alone or organize playmates in original game s
&lt;li&gt;are very sensitive
&lt;li&gt;feel that they don't fit in
&lt;li&gt;believe they are missing something that other people have
&lt;li&gt;attach themselves to idealized teachers, heroes, artists, etc.
&lt;li&gt;become antiauthoritarian or rebellious when criticized or not understood
&lt;li&gt;feel lonely or abandoned (perhaps as a result of a death or their parents' divorce) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Fours as Parents &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;help their children become who they really are
&lt;li&gt;support their children's creativity and originality
&lt;li&gt;are good at helping their children get in touch with their feelings
&lt;li&gt;are sometimes overly critical or overly protective
&lt;li&gt;are usually very good with children if not too self-absorbed &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td align="middle"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is3.okcupid.com/users/986/276/9872769248634057572/mt1117662069.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;





&lt;table cellpadding="20"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td&gt;&lt;span id="comparisonarea"&gt;My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people &lt;i&gt;your age and gender&lt;/i&gt;:
&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;table cellspacing="4" cellpadding="0" border="0"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;
&lt;table cellspacing="1" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="black" border="0"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td width="38" bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td width="112" bgcolor="white"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;25%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;ABC&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;
&lt;table cellspacing="1" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="black" border="0"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td width="77" bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td width="73" bgcolor="white"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;51%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;XYZ&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="20"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Link: &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=12721960859055255705"&gt;The Quick and Painless ENNEAGRAM Test&lt;/a&gt; written by &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/profile?tuid=9872769248634057572"&gt;felk&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com"&gt;Ok Cupid&lt;/a&gt;, home of the &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest3"&gt;32-Type Dating Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114107504088388405?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114107504088388405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114107504088388405' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114107504088388405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114107504088388405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/zzzzzzzzzzzz.html' title='Zzzzzzzzzzzz'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114084878366550596</id><published>2006-02-24T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T01:15:56.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Notes to self</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;When you are exhausted beyond all belief, no matter how much you love derby, do not stay up all night haunting the &lt;a href="http://www.ratcityrollergirls.com/bb"&gt;Rat City bulletin board&lt;/a&gt; or pressing the refresh button on the &lt;a href="http://www.usrollergirls.com/tournaments/dustdevil2006"&gt;US Rollergirl Dust Devil Tourney site&lt;/a&gt;, just because you couldn't go to Tucson for the tournament this weekend. Someone will eventually let you know how the girls have done.  They rock.  They'll be OK without your constant hovering.  And no, ESPN is not covering the tournament.  Stop checking the TV guide.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Since you want to be a rollergirl, &lt;a href="http://www.tucsonrollerderby.com/photos.php?type=injuries"&gt;these pictures&lt;/a&gt; will help you stay focused. That (or &lt;a href="http://www.windycityrollers.com/pics/injuries/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;) is what will happen to you if you don't buckle down and quit f*cking around. You're not in shape? You're going to fall harder than these girls did. And more than normal, since people will purposely be pushing you around. So suck it b*tch and get to work.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stop obsessing about the GD job. F*ck them all; the job is all they have. You have a son, roller derby and knitting. Plus some friends and a boyfriend in there somewhere. It's the weekend - anything work-related can wait until Monday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't watch horror movies when you're home alone, or you'll whack your roommate with a pan again. She'll enjoy that about as much as she did tonight.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Knitting + &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0390221/"&gt;Subtitled Movie&lt;/a&gt; = SUPER messed up socks (Also, you know about 9 words of Spanish. Please do not try and fool yourself into thinking that you will be able to understand the language without subtitles.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do not commit to one knitting project for an extended period of time, forsaking all other knitting projects. You will feel very suffocated and want to run screaming into the streets. You love lots of projects all at one time, don't try and fool yourself. You are a knitting whore. And that's ok. (PS - there is no support group for this sort of thing, since it is not a problem. Stop asking people in your LYS.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;HA! You wore a bowl on your head for a WHOLE DAY!! HA!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll be offline for the rest of the weekend (except for checking in on the Rat City girls as they kick some ass and take some names in Tucson), so I'll catch y'all on Monday :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114084878366550596?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114084878366550596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114084878366550596' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114084878366550596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114084878366550596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/notes-to-self.html' title='Notes to self'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114080824067606399</id><published>2006-02-24T10:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T15:55:53.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Please tell me it's Friday.  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD</title><content type='html'>I had this whole rant planned out about my job, but frankly, I've just stopped caring enough to bitch about work. I love my job, I really do. I just don't like the women I have to deal with on a regular basis.

OK! Moving on!

&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20223.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20223.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's the picture from yesterday of the &lt;a href="http://www.venganza.org/"&gt;FSM&lt;/a&gt; car, but digitally re-touched so you don't see the poor unsuspecting driver's license plate. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry, Mr. I-Drive-A-Honda-But-I-Act-Like-I-Own-The-Road....


And here is a picture of my new shoes, which! Just happen to match my&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20227.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20227.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; new knitting bag. (Can I talk a little more about how cool my knitting bag is and how one woman at the yarn store from hell told me if she was less of a lady, she would have knocked me down and stolen my cute bag? Hell yes!)

Yes, they are Vans. I heart them, so don't you dare say anything nasty about them. (PS - those are little skulls on the shoes.)

And that brings us to the super-neato-cool package I got from my SECRET PAL!! So I got it on Wednesday...

&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20230.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20230.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And good thing too. I needed a new hat, since my hair has been doing uncontrollable things and rebelling against all attempts to beat it into submission, or even into a ponytail. This hat is so warm, and the colours blend into each other and it's FELTED PEOPLE! (please ignore the sullen look on my face. We will get into why it looks like that in just a second, but yes, I am sitting in my office. And yes, I took out the hideous black nose ring.)

She also sent me a book of sock patterns (yes, I am not over socks, even though I swore them off after the Jaywalkers..I need more socks!), a really cute book of inspirational quotes, the hat, a very cute card, and a tee-tiny bottle of Vanilla Schnapps. (And no, the Schnapps is not gone yet. It's in my purse, in case of emergency)

Ok, so on to why I look all pissed off in that picture. So, that's from yesterday. When the Twat was getting moved into her office some more, and vacuuming for the 47th time since she moved in on Tuesday. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20231.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20231.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;

This is what happened to MY office. I don't normally have a conglomeration of empty boxes lying around, but she nicely dumped all the stuff she didn't want in my office! Hooray!

So now her office is nice and neat and very minimalistic (good thing, since she's only here until they hire somebody for the position) and mine looks like a tent city for Oompa Loompas. Or a &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20232.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;place where shipping boxes go to die.

I actually use a lot of boxes to ship things, however (as Murphy's Law would have it...) I have not shipped anything in a couple of weeks. So the boxes just keep piling up. (Some of them actually have stuff in them. I should probably ship those out or throw them out.)

God - now that I look at these pictures, I wonder how I ever find anything. I am so unorganized.

ALRIGHTY THEN - I'm going to go clean my office now...somehow I ended up bitching about my job anyway?

&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE: Apparently, I am mentally disabled. The cute hat I'm wearing in that picture up there? It's a bowl.&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Yes, I'm serious. I'm wearing a bowl on my head. I would take the picture down and erase all evidence that I am a dork, but I kind of like that picture, and it reminds me that I should double-check everything. God. &lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE #2: Apparently, the Twat's office has become a place where all of the other middle-aged bitchy admins go to complain about me, and spread some fun rumours about me. &lt;em&gt; (Did you know that I'm a stripper on weekends?  Did you know I was pregnant last year and went to have an abortion on my lunch break?  Did you know I was married 4 times by the time I hit 25?  Neither did I!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Little do they realize that the walls are practically particle-board, and actually AMPLIFY sound rather than muffle it.&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;So I hear every word.&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;It's starting to affect my performance, and make me less and less willing to get up in the morning, put on some makeup and try to look happy while listening to people bitch about things I haven't really done...and more willing to start all out brawls in the middle of the work day. :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114080824067606399?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114080824067606399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114080824067606399' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114080824067606399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114080824067606399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/please-tell-me-its-friday-for-love-of.html' title='Please tell me it&apos;s Friday.  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114072810334277091</id><published>2006-02-23T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T10:32:31.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends don't let friends sk8 without kneepads</title><content type='html'>It's Thursday, so that means 2 things - the injury report from last night's derby practice, and RANDOM THOUGHT THURSDAY!

&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20229.jpg" border="0" /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This is what happens when your pants melt to your leg after you forget you're not wearing kneepads and you practice your falling properly. Ow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK! So, since now I know that I can upload pictures, it's time for RANDOM THOUGHT THURSDAY!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20225.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20225.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A close-up of the fabric from my neato-cool bag &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20226.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that &lt;a href="http://iwasknittogetherinmymotherswomb.typepad.com/"&gt;Lynne&lt;/a&gt; made me (skulls AND flames....)- and the ends of the bag, which are my favorite part...those are BOLTS, y'all. This has to be the COOLEST KNITTING BAG EVER.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20223.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's a bumper I saw yesterday with the "&lt;a href="http://www.venganza.org/"&gt;Flying Spaghetti Monster&lt;/a&gt;" thingy on it, in the style of those "IXOYE" Jesus Fish thingies. &lt;strong&gt;(UPDATE: I photoshopped the picture to remove the license plate number, since I'm a total ass and forgot to do that originally.  Please see today's (FRIDAY) post for the new and improved picture.)&lt;/strong&gt; I thought it was amusing, and I apparently have too much time on my hands. It's amazing that I don't get in any car &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20140.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20140.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;accidents, what with me taking pictures WHILE DRIVING ON THE FREEWAY like this one with the mountain...I'm entirely too crazy to be allowed to operate a motor vehicle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And apparently I'm done now, with the picture part of my blog...I don't know why my computer randomly quits uploading photos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm still angry at "the twat". She apparently doesn't trust me to do much of anything, and I'm getting yelled at for the stupidest things. The women in my office are very catty, and middle-aged, so since I am neither, they automatically prey on me and the two other not-bitchy-or-middle-aged women in my office.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm just tired of office politics.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got a package from my secret pal yesterday! I'll blog more about it tomorrow - right now I better look busy so Twat doesn't yell at me for no particular reason.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114072810334277091?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114072810334277091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114072810334277091' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114072810334277091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114072810334277091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/friends-dont-let-friends-sk8-without.html' title='Friends don&apos;t let friends sk8 without kneepads'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114065572455209123</id><published>2006-02-22T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T16:57:31.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it Friday?  No, seriously, Friday?  Now?</title><content type='html'>I think I'm pretty much done for this week. I'm glad today is Wednesday, even though, for most of the morning, I totally thought it was Friday.

I don't know why. The only explanation I can come up with is that I'm out of my damned gourd and need to go skating to get out some of my pent-up aggression. Good thing today is practice day! WOO!!

I am, however, convinced that Wednesday is the worst day of the week to have to go to work. Regardless of the fact that I get to go skating soon, it's not close enough to Monday for me to be refreshed from the weekend, and it's too far from Friday for me to be excited about the next weekend...I used to love to come to work. *sigh*

Ok, so I have more pictures for those of you who are visual creatures and want something to look at while you read my blatherings.

I entered a contest on &lt;a href="http://iwasknittogetherinmymotherswomb.typepad.com/i_was_knit_together_in_my/2006/01/you_guys_i_can_.html"&gt;Lynne's blog&lt;/a&gt; a while ago, for guessing how many skeins she could cram in one of her handmade knitting bags. I entered, but as is my luck with EVERY CONTEST I ENTER ONLINE, I did not win.

I struck up an email conversation with Lynne, and she graciously offered to custom make me a bag. (ATTENTION KNITTERS: buy a bag from Lynne. I'm telling you. I'll show you why in a second.)

She was a little wary that I wanted skulls on my bag, and that I might be putting my skate pads in there with my yarn, but she forged ahead and made the bag.

It came yesterday, along with a separate package from &lt;a href="http://www.hottopic.com"&gt;Hot Topic,&lt;/a&gt; which &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20224.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20224.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we'll discuss at a later time.

HOW COOL IS THIS BAG? Now, those of you that have been reading this blog know that I am not traditional in any part of my life. I am a practicing roller derby queen. I am a single mom, who does things rather unconventionally. I would have weird coloured hair, but my boss is mad enough that I got my nose pierced while they were all away at some convention last summer...so I needed something a little more fun and funky than most bags I could find at my LYS's...and this bag is perfect.

What? What's that you say? You say you can't see the KICK ASS FABRIC that Lynne used for the bag?

Um, neither can I. If you're reading this, wait for a couple of minutes and lemme see if I can figure out why my stupid computer is no longer uploading pictures.

Back in a flash.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;UPDATE: My computer is apparently on strike, and is no longer posting pictures.  You will have to wait for the exciting conclusion of this blog entry.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114065572455209123?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114065572455209123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114065572455209123' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114065572455209123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114065572455209123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/is-it-friday-no-seriously-friday-now.html' title='Is it Friday?  No, seriously, Friday?  Now?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-114055511829789367</id><published>2006-02-21T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T12:51:58.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart Attacks and other Exciting Things</title><content type='html'>So &lt;a href="http://hadelman.blogspot.com/"&gt;PomPom &lt;/a&gt;is gone. I am very sad, and I have a new person to work with, which makes me really cranky. I like people, but I don't like having to get used to a new person in heavy doses.

Does that even make sense? I like people. I like making new friends, but I really don't like being thrust into a situation where I have to deal with one "new" person for large amounts of time for an undetermined period of time.   I want them to hire someone else.

Plus, this new person is a total twat. &lt;em&gt; (Pardon my french.)&lt;/em&gt;

Ok, I'm not making sense and not being nice anymore. ON TO THE PICTURES!!

&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20219.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20219.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When last we met, we were talking about my super cool skates and my wicked awesome falling skills.

Here is the aftermath of my wicked cool falling skills from Saturday's practice - that tiny pink mark on my kneecap &lt;em&gt;(yes, that's my knee...and yes, I'm aware it's completely and utterly blindingly pale)&lt;/em&gt; is now a bruise that covers my entire kneecap.

I'm not really sure where it came from. The one on the side of my knee is from me falling on my own wheels. 90% of my bruises come from me falling on my wheels. But I love my war wounds, and I'll just keep posting them as they develop.

So be warned. Oh yes, there will be blood. &lt;em&gt;(Wait, didn't I say that yesterday? Now I'm starting to repeat myself. Great.)&lt;/em&gt;

SO! Saturday ended with me, TB and TB's roommates going to a party in Ballard &lt;em&gt;(a "borough" of Seattle, for lack of a better word)&lt;/em&gt; and getting completely lost, going to &lt;a href="http://www.sunsetbowl.com/"&gt;the wrong place&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;(all the flyer said was "At the Sunset" and I neglected to read the address),&lt;/em&gt; ending up at &lt;a href="http://www.sunsettavern.com/"&gt;the right place,&lt;/a&gt; having a great time, and apparently leaving before Dave Matthews &lt;em&gt;(yes, THAT Dave Matthews)&lt;/em&gt; showed up.

I leave the party too early, sometimes. &lt;em&gt;(No pictures from the Sunset...I had 4 Ranier beers in 30 minutes, so I sort of forgot to take pictures.)
&lt;/em&gt;
Sunday morning, TB and I woke up, went and picked up MHP from my &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20213.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20213.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;parents' house, and headed up to the mountain to go snowboarding.

That's all I'm going to say, because shortly after this picture was taken, both of the boys threw separate tantrums, and we all got back in the car and went home.

So I went and bought more yarn.  I think that's the only way for me to work through a rough patch in life...much healthier than eating my brains out (which I don't do anyway...I starve myself during breakups and tough times) or running my ass off (which I tried when TB and I "broke up" a few months ago) or any of those other destructive habits people get themselves into.

I've seriously come to the end of my rope with the job today - I just cannot take it anymore.  I'm at the point where I would rather be unemployed and homeless than stay here every day. 

I've got to go - see if my therapist will give me Xanax to keep me from becoming violent at work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114055511829789367?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114055511829789367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114055511829789367' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114055511829789367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114055511829789367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/heart-attacks-and-other-exciting.html' title='Heart Attacks and other Exciting Things'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114047807029574594</id><published>2006-02-20T15:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T15:27:50.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaaaand, I'm done.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Angry%20Monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Angry%20Monkey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
No, I'm not done with the Estonian HellFire Wrap, but you sure are funny for thinking that. I'm done with human beans today. I've had enough of people everywhere today, and frankly, they can all take a flying leap into a &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0432348/quotes"&gt;pit full of used junkie needles&lt;/a&gt; at this point. (Oh yes, there will be blood...I love that movie.)

ANYWAY! I don't want to talk about work, people or angry monkeys. Let's talk about what I did this weekend!

Saturday was weird - I don't normally have practice on Saturdays, so that threw off my whole groove. The roommate had somone spend the weekend all weekend (&lt;em&gt;Thanks for asking me! Of course your slovenly friend is &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; welcome to stay on my couch!)&lt;/em&gt; so that threw a wrench in the works too.

Saturday morning, MHP and I stayed in bed and watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (the Depp/Burton version) for the 900th time, then we went and picked up our rental snowboarding gear with TB.

After that, we went and had tea at Village Yarn &amp; Tea with Bling! and &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20143.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Elaine, from &lt;a href="http://houndhollow.typepad.com/pinkpurlgrrl/"&gt;PinkPurlGrrl&lt;/a&gt;. I love them. They are adorable, and Bling played trains on the table with MHP while Elaine and I went and bought yarn. And no, I'm not showing you what I bought because I already put it all away. :) (MHP took that picture - can you tell?)

Then I went to practice. As I've previously mentioned, I am not exactly graceful when it comes to falling. Since we did falling drills, I was especially accident prone. And that brings us to a picture montage. Hooray!

&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20207.jpg" border="0" /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;These are my skates.  I love them.  Even though the toes are all scuffed up, and the uppers are so stiff around the ankle that I'm suffering some HEAVY bruising, they are mine.  My skates.  And no, I don't have tree-trunk legs - those kneepads are really killing me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And apparently my computer has stopped uploading pictures. I'll have to get to the rest of my weekend later...I'm off to knit one more row on that wrap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At this rate, I'll be lucky if I finish the damned thing by the time the Summer Olympics come around.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh, and tune in tonight for the Grand Slalom and root for &lt;a href="http://www.usoc.org/26_43670.htm"&gt;Libby Ludlow,&lt;/a&gt; will you?  I went to school with her and her brother all through public school (1st through 12th grades) and we're all really proud of her.  It's nice to be able to claim you knew someone back when...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114047807029574594?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114047807029574594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114047807029574594' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114047807029574594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114047807029574594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/aaaaand-im-done.html' title='Aaaaand, I&apos;m done.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-114012508126845078</id><published>2006-02-16T13:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T13:41:03.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Michelle Kwan-ing it</title><content type='html'>I may be pulling out of the Knitting Olympics. What, with trying to break in my new skates in practice 3 times a week (and visiting the chiropractor once a week), trying to keep up with MHP, working 50-60 hours a week and trying to acclimate myself to my new additional responsibilities at work, I just don't think it's possible.

Why, you may ask? It's not that difficult of a project, I don't think - it's just REALLY LONG. I'm supposed to do 40 repeats of the cute "little flowers" lace chart. Here's what I have so far:

&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20132.jpg" border="0" /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;That's 9 1/2 repeats. In 5 days. I'm sucking at this whole time constraint thing - but I am in total love with the green alpaca lace.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Valentines' Day was boring - since it's 2 days after my birthday, if TB does something nice for my birthday, he's kind of off the hook for V-Day. Lucky bastard. Since he took me to Sephora and gave me a bunch of money to spend on myself for my birthday, I let the over-commercialized-bullshit-"love"-not-a-real holiday slide.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20134.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20134.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I did, however, get these from him. He was cute enough to pay attention to the fact that I enjoy tulips, and I was lucky enough to have a vase to kill them...I mean PUT them in my office, and right where I can see them when I'm chained to my desk.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He's adorable when he's not being a total douchebag.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ANYWAY - so if I drop from the Olympics, I'll let you know...'til then, consider me an Olympian :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nothing else exciting - it's been nice and sunny lately, but cold enough outside to freeze a Winnebago! I responded to a few people in the comments yesterday...I'll just keep doing that unless I get lazy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh, and PS? This was such a great definition of me, I couldn't pass up posting it:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;table style="BORDER-RIGHT: black 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: black 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: black 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: black 1px solid" width="450" background="#FFFFFF" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+1;"&gt;Libby --&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;

&lt;span style="font-size:+1;"&gt;[noun]:&lt;/span&gt;

A level headed person who always makes the wrong decision



&lt;a style="COLOR: #ff0000" href="http://www.quizgalaxy.com/quiz.php?id=83"&gt;'How will you be defined in the dictionary?'&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a style="COLOR: #ff0000" href="http://www.quizgalaxy.com"&gt;QuizGalaxy.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114012508126845078?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114012508126845078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114012508126845078' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114012508126845078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114012508126845078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/michelle-kwan-ing-it.html' title='Michelle Kwan-ing it'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-114002806859677405</id><published>2006-02-15T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T10:27:48.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GASP!</title><content type='html'>I got a present from my parents.

I know, it's TOTALLY shocking, but apparently they came into some actual real money that did not involve them in illegal activities, and they actually bought me a real live present. And it's cool, want to see what it does?

&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20127.jpg" border="0" /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Yeah, that's right. I FINALLY got a replacement for the brick camera that died oh so long ago. So now, you have visual aids to go along with my rambling! Aren't you TOTALLY EXCITED??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK, so maybe you're not as excited as I am to be able to FINALLY show you things like the finished We Call Them Pirates hat (please excuse the sullen look, and that's a NOSE RING, not a BOIL):&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20129.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Or one of my finished Jaywalker socks (the other was made a little too zealously, and I had to frog it to extend the toe):&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Misc.%20Pix%209-20-05%20130.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So.  Needless to say, I'm a wee bit excited about my digital camera, and must run out immediately to purchase a memory card, because the camera itself only holds 10 pictures.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm trying to think of a fun contest to have to give away some sock yarn...does anyone have any ideas?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-114002806859677405?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/114002806859677405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=114002806859677405' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114002806859677405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/114002806859677405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/gasp.html' title='GASP!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113986867006895784</id><published>2006-02-13T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T14:28:50.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Belated Birthday</title><content type='html'>OK! So the birthday was fun times...I won't bore you with all the sordid details, but I did get to skate yesterday, so all was good in the House of Libby.

Vegas Shannon was nice enough to give me a very lovely birthday present I can share with all of you. Try not to make yourself sick from the sweetness of it all:

&lt;strong&gt;TOP 10 REASONS WHY I’M STILL FRIENDS WITH LIBBY AND HAVE NOT CHOKED THE EVERLOVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF HER… YET. :)
&lt;/strong&gt;
10. She’s a fucking roller girl. Dude. That rocks.

9. She let me come up with her roller derby name: &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;removed until I become a real rollergirl so no-one else will steal my name&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;deleted&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Yup. That was all me.

8. We have the same brain. Which doesn’t bode well for me, but there you have it.

7. She chokes on lemonade in front of hot guys. Who wouldn’t be entertained by that?

6. She falls down a lot. A LOT. You don’t understand… like, all the time. Again, pure entertainment.

5. She randomly falls out of her desk chair. Something about the computer cords getting tangled around her… it makes me laugh hysterically.

4. She’s FUN. Never a dull moment. Even when she’s not falling down or choking. I can always count on her to try new things.

3. She can ALWAYS make me laugh.

2. She’s beauty-ful. Inside and out.

1. She’s a super loyal good friend. And if you talk shit about me, she’ll kick your ass.

You've got to love Vegas Shannon. She's super-awesome.

SO! It's not too late to &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-today.html"&gt;comment on yesterday's post &lt;/a&gt;and help me reach my goal of 50 comments...(god, I have no shame.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113986867006895784?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113986867006895784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113986867006895784' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113986867006895784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113986867006895784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/belated-birthday.html' title='Belated Birthday'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113976897914135853</id><published>2006-02-12T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T10:44:05.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's TODAY!</title><content type='html'>Yeah, so I'm a little hung over this morning, but I thought I would blog anyway.

Thanks Christina for coming out yesterday to celebrate my birthday!!

Twenty seven years ago today, I made my lovely entrance into the world. And apparently, that's all I get to write today, because TB is humping my back and telling me it's time to go out and play. :)

Happy birthday me! :)

&lt;strong&gt;PS - I finished the &lt;a href="http://www.januaryone.com/archives/jaywalker_kal/"&gt;Jaywalker &lt;/a&gt;socks last night for &lt;a href="http://januaryone.com"&gt;Cara's &lt;/a&gt;knit-along, before I headed out for the party so I have SUPER NEATO KEEN SOCKS for my skating now!  Want to know why I don't have a picture of them? (In &lt;a href="http://www.lonestaryarns.com/lorna.html"&gt;Lorna's Laces Forest colurway&lt;/a&gt;)  &lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Because my parents told me they would not be getting a digital camera for me for my birthday after all.  In fact, they did not get me anything.  Surprise! :)&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;*rolls eyes*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113976897914135853?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113976897914135853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113976897914135853' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113976897914135853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113976897914135853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-today.html' title='It&apos;s TODAY!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113963100755012456</id><published>2006-02-10T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T20:10:07.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow.</title><content type='html'>3 posts in one day...can you stand the excitement?

I'm just blogging to tell everyone I cast on my project, and am knitting like a fiend during the Opening Ceremonies.  I would totally blog about the ceremonies and this frightening woman interviewing Michele Kwan right now, but I must knit.

Oh, and I love Apolo Anton Ohno.  But don't tell anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113963100755012456?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113963100755012456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113963100755012456' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113963100755012456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113963100755012456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/wow.html' title='Wow.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113961609446390850</id><published>2006-02-10T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T16:01:34.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sarah, the dog-napper's poem</title><content type='html'>OK, so I asked my friend Sarah (the one who has Goliath now) to write something for my birthday, so here it goes!

&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;aughter that is contagious exactly when I need it.
&lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; know I can always count on Libby for a good kick in the ass when it is needed.
&lt;strong&gt;B&lt;/strong&gt;eing herself, not everyone can say that they are comfortable in their own skin and Libby is a wonderful example of this!
&lt;strong&gt;B&lt;/strong&gt;ooze, I wish had the ability to drink this girl under the table however, I would fail miserably.
&lt;strong&gt;Y&lt;/strong&gt;outhful enthusiasm, as we get older most of us feel sorry for ourselves and can’t find “fun” anymore, not our Libby!

&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;aughing hysterically through turbulent times!
&lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;nsanity that can only rival my own!
&lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt;anages to always be there for her son!
&lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;nstinctually knows exactly what her friends need whether it be a drink or a hug 
&lt;strong&gt;N&lt;/strong&gt;ailing peoples asses to the ground on the roller rink track!
&lt;strong&gt;G&lt;/strong&gt;reat friend to have around!
&lt;/em&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Cheers to another great year of having Ms Libby around, life would not be the same without her :)&lt;/em&gt;

Awww! That's so cute!  I think I just threw up a little in my mouth, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113961609446390850?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113961609446390850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113961609446390850' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113961609446390850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113961609446390850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/sarah-dog-nappers-poem.html' title='Sarah, the dog-napper&apos;s poem'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113959519840713012</id><published>2006-02-10T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T14:59:24.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grrr.</title><content type='html'>I had a witty post about how great the Knitting Olympics are, and how &lt;a href="http://houndhollow.typepad.com/pinkpurlgrrl/"&gt;Elaine &lt;/a&gt;is all cool because we're knitting the same thing (although hers will look like the pictured sample, and mine will look like something the cat barfed up), and how my birthday is ALREADY going great, and it disappeared.

Everything on my computer shut down and left me behind going "huh?"

*sigh* It's enough to make a girl get a Mac.

I'll try and witty up another post later, after I take a nap and cast on my project for the Olympics.

&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE: Yes, my birthday is on Sunday, but I've received several KICKASS gifts of which a girl could be super boastful.  One of them was not specifically a GIFT, but more an OPPORTUNITY...I'll tell you later.  I can't talk about it right now, I'm too excited and was sworn to secrecy for a while anyway.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113959519840713012?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113959519840713012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113959519840713012' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113959519840713012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113959519840713012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/grrr.html' title='Grrr.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113985737198722260</id><published>2006-02-10T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T11:02:52.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's on like Donkey Kong...</title><content type='html'>Alrighty kiddos, the Olympics officially start in one hour and 15 minutes.

I'm starting to hyperventilate, but I did bring the project with me, so I could cast on during the actual time of the opening ceremonies, rather than waiting until it's televised.  (That way, I have an extra couple of hours head-start on some people!)

And tomorrow is the big party for the birthday...I don't know why I'm so excited, except for the fact that only 6 people made it out last year, and 4 of them left after dinner, so it ended up being me, TB and Vegas Shannon out drinking.

This birthday has already proven to be leaps and bounds more exciting than last year..and the actual day is not until Sunday!  Why is it more exciting?
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've got 30 people confirmed to come skating tomorrow. (Yes, I'm rollerskating for my birthday.  I love skating.  Hooray!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I GET MY NEW SKATES TODAY!! They're Riedell Torqs, I got them &lt;a href="http://sincityskates.com"&gt;from the coolest skater chick ever&lt;/a&gt; (Ivanna S. Pankin, co-captain of the &lt;a href="http://sincityrollergirls.com"&gt;Sin City Rollergirls&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I get to skate with the Rat City Rollergirls ON MY ACTUAL BIRTHDAY!!! I'm so excited, I just might plotz.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got the bestest present ever...but I can't tell you about it here, because I was sworn to secrecy.  But it has to do with skating.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm just having a really great week, and frankly, that's all a girl can ask for.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;In other news, I'll start getting a ton busier at work - my partner-in-crime, PomPom (I don't know if ANY of you remember her...I mentioned her once or twice when &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/03/bit-about-me.html"&gt;I first started blogging&lt;/a&gt;) is leaving me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This means that I will not only be doing my job, but I'll be doing hers as well.  So &lt;strong&gt;2 full time jobs + panic attacks + daily naptimes = no time at work for blogging.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I won't stop altogether (my addiction to Blogger is FAR too advanced for that...) but I just wanted to warn you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;HAPPY FRIDAY EVERYONE!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE, 2/13 - This is the magical missing post from Friday!! I don't have any idea where this came from, but the virus scan on my computer opened this as a virus.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will never, in my LIFE understand computers.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113985737198722260?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113985737198722260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113985737198722260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113985737198722260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113985737198722260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-on-like-donkey-kong.html' title='It&apos;s on like Donkey Kong...'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113950809978870891</id><published>2006-02-09T09:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T15:52:28.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays and rollerskating and other unfinished business</title><content type='html'>So I've got some news. You'll want to sit down for this one.

&lt;div align="center"&gt;I went rollerskating yesterday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;

&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I know! It's shocking! But here's the clincher: MHP went with me. Seriously? The boy is a freekin' stud (for 6) on skates. I'm SO PROUD!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;

&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ok, birthdays. Mine is on Sunday (the 12th). I'll be 23. Again. For the 5th year in a row. So - the reason I'm telling you this is for a couple of reasons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;You may not shower me with gifts. I have enough stuff. &lt;strong&gt;HOWEVER&lt;/strong&gt; - I would, at some point in time, like to say that &lt;strong&gt;I had over 50 individual comments on one post&lt;/strong&gt;. (None of that 50 one-word comments all from one person.) That would RAWK. So if you want to get me a present, tell everyone you know to &lt;strong&gt;comment on Sunday's post&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A couple of my "real life" friends will be dropping in here at Stringer's Bell to leave their &lt;strong&gt;"10 reasons why I'm still friends with Libby and haven't killed her yet"&lt;/strong&gt; lists. Be nice to them and behave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Just in case I leave a drunk blog on Sunday morning (which I'm driven to do), you'll know why.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Happy Thursday everyone!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Oh, and for those of you in the Seattle area that are Bumbershoot fans, have you seen &lt;a href="http://msnbc.msn.com/id/11248716/"&gt;THIS SH*T??? &lt;/a&gt;Bull. BULL I TELL YOU!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;UPDATE: 3:52 PM - God I'm bored.  I just wanted to share this &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medical_slang"&gt;entertaining Wikipedia entry &lt;/a&gt;with you, so next time the doc calls you a "code brown", you'll know what it means.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;No no, don't thank me, it's all in a day's work.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113950809978870891?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113950809978870891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113950809978870891' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113950809978870891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113950809978870891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/birthdays-and-rollerskating-and-other.html' title='Birthdays and rollerskating and other unfinished business'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113942610167572887</id><published>2006-02-08T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T12:17:53.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Knit Olympics</title><content type='html'>Yes, &lt;a href="http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/olympics2006.html"&gt;I've joined&lt;/a&gt;. I think I &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/ten-ways-to-tell-drugs-have-kicked-in.html"&gt;mentioned it a while ago&lt;/a&gt;, but now I'm finally fessing up to what I'm doing, and why I've lost my mind to do this.

So Stephanie, because she's super cool and has great ideas, started this idea of the Knitters' Olympics. You can check out this link up there for a more in-depth look at how it all works, but basic idea is that you choose a project that will be a challenge for you to finish during the Olympics.

Finish that project in 16 days - cast on your project of choice during the Opening Ceremonies (wherever you may be) and then cast off during (or hopefully before) the Closing ceremonies.

Sounds pretty simple, right?

I apparently cannot follow directions.

&lt;strong&gt;I was going to stash-bust&lt;/strong&gt; (for those non-knitters, that means reaching into the yarn wad you already have, rather than going out to buy new yarn) &lt;strong&gt;to knit the &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.helloyarn.com/wecallthempirates.htm"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We Call Them Pirates hat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; from Hello Yarn&lt;/strong&gt;. As my regular readers &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/awwww.html"&gt;may recall&lt;/a&gt;, I got a little overzealous, and I've already finished that hat.

Then! &lt;strong&gt;I was going to stash-bust again and knit 4 pairs of socks&lt;/strong&gt;! I finished a pair of &lt;a href="http://magknits.com/Sept05/patterns/jaywalker.htm"&gt;Jaywalker socks&lt;/a&gt;, and now I'm pretty much all socked out.

&lt;strong&gt;I was going to finish the Rogue sweater!&lt;/strong&gt; But seeing as how I have half the hood done, and all I would need to do was finish that, knit the sleeves and set in the sleeves...I'm apparently insane, and didn't think that was enough of a challenge.

SO! I've decided to knit the Estonian Garden Wrap with some lovely alpaca laceweight in a beautiful kelly green.

What? What's that you say? A wrap will not go with my blue jeans and vintage rock n roll teeshirts? I know.

Apparently, that doesn't stop me from knitting it anyway. Just in case. :)

&lt;strong&gt;So - Does anyone out there have a "Team Seattle" button for the Knit-Lympics, or are we all joining other people's teams?&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Oh, and a quick random thought for this lovely Wednesday:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Who thinks Poor Katie Holmes is having the life slowly sucked from her by Tom Cruise?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyone freaked out by what she's carrying in her womb? Like the Anti-Christ?  Spawn of aliens? Hundreds of extra Twinkies to soothe her battered self-image?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Does anyone else look at the picture below and wonder why Tom's face is so red?  I think he might explode.  And they make enough money, do you think they could do something about Katie's lip sore?  Or that hideously ugly shirt she's wearing?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Holmes%20Insanity.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Picture courtesy of MSNBC.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113942610167572887?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113942610167572887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113942610167572887' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113942610167572887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113942610167572887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/knit-olympics.html' title='Knit Olympics'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113935940539452066</id><published>2006-02-07T16:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T16:43:25.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Portland and New Skates and SOCKS!</title><content type='html'>Oh my!

Anyway.  I've had too much caffeine today, so if I start using words like "&lt;strong&gt;f*cktwat&lt;/strong&gt;" or "&lt;strong&gt;rumdigger&lt;/strong&gt;", just ignore that part.

I spent 24 of the most crazy-ass hours in Portland Sat/Sun.  (Yes, I missed part of the Superbowl.  I knew the Hawks would be OK if I did not watch the first hour.)  Here are some highlights:
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;pre-funking in a &lt;a href="http://jupiterhotel.com/"&gt;kickass hotel&lt;/a&gt; that was surprisingly inexpensive&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;going to another roller derby bout that blew my mind&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the mascot for the &lt;a href="http://rosecityrollers.com/rosecityrollersgunsnrollers.php"&gt;Guns N Rollers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;finding out our hotel was next door to the after-party, meaning I could drink my mind away and not have to worry about driving&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;getting to know some of the &lt;a href="http://ratcityrollergirls.com"&gt;Rat City &lt;/a&gt;girls&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;getting into a screaming match with a butt-nekkid stripper&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;being forcefully removed from a strip club &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;having enough beer in our hotel room that it REALLY DIDN'T MATTER&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;jumping on the bed in our underwear and having a pillow fight&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;realizing that "fight" for the rollergirls meant someone was going to be in pain at the end&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;waking up Sunday morning after too much alcohol, too much fun and 3 1/2 hours of sleep and being able to stumble out of my room and practically directly into one of the best diners ever (Dutch Babies!!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK - I'm getting my skates on Friday, just in time for my birthday EXTRAVAGANZA!!  I'm STOKED!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So stoked, that I may actually finish this pair of Jaywalker socks..I'm halfway there!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's right, I've kitchenered a toe!  I am a STUD!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I'm done.  I'm exhausted.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113935940539452066?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113935940539452066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113935940539452066' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113935940539452066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113935940539452066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/portland-and-new-skates-and-socks.html' title='Portland and New Skates and SOCKS!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113890480135024389</id><published>2006-02-02T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T11:10:29.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WARNING: Culture Ahead!</title><content type='html'>For the Grace's Poppies &lt;a href="http://goldpoppy.blogspot.com/2006/01/youre-invited.html"&gt;Bloggers' Poetry Reading&lt;/a&gt; for the Feast of Brigid (aka Groundhog's Day, Aka TB's birthday.)


&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Sonnet from Shakespeare&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On how, when you're old (er), your child may make you feel younger.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I'm feeling old right now. My birthday is in a week and a half, and I'm not getting younger, like I thought I was.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
1.When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
2. And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
3. Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
4. Will be a totter'd weed of small worth held:
5. Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
6. Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
7. To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
8. Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
9. How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
10. If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
11. Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'
12. Proving his beauty by succession thine!
13. This were to be new made when thou art old,
14. And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.


&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Walt Whitman's City of Orgies (from Leaves of Grass)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(Because I like New York :)
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;City of orgies, walks and joys!
&lt;a name="1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day make you illustrious,
&lt;a name="2"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Not the pageants of you—not your shifting tableaux, your spectacles, repay me;
&lt;a name="3"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Not the interminable rows of your houses—nor the ships at the wharves,
&lt;a name="4"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Nor the processions in the streets, nor the bright windows, with goods in them;
&lt;a name="5"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nor to converse with learn’d persons, or bear my share in the soiree or feast;
&lt;a name="6"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Not those—but, as I pass, O Manhattan! your frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love,
&lt;a name="7"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Offering response to my own—these repay me;
&lt;a name="8"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
Lovers, continual lovers, only repay me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OK - and for those of you that made it all the way to the end of this post, a little reward. The primary reason why all parents should make their teenagers get an after-school job: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/w/Pokemon-Theme-Song?v=73uJBbyubPA&amp;feature=Views&amp;amp;amp;page=2&amp;t=t&amp;amp;f=b"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HERE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. You can thank me later ;)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113890480135024389?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113890480135024389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113890480135024389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113890480135024389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113890480135024389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/warning-culture-ahead.html' title='WARNING: Culture Ahead!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113883549935895698</id><published>2006-02-01T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T15:11:39.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Organic Heinz.  Ketchup, that is.</title><content type='html'>So I have a few things I need to get out there, because I've signed up for several things that I have not posted updates for.

Oh, and &lt;a href="http://anothercroknitblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Norah &lt;/a&gt;was right - I'm practicing to try out for the roller derby league here in Seattle.  I won't be trying out until November, but I'm working REALLY hard. 
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://anonymouscoworker.com"&gt;ACW &lt;/a&gt;- if I was either a time-traveler OR a pin-up girl, that would be super cool.  Both would be preferred.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://lessinges.typepad.com"&gt;Egan&lt;/a&gt;, my legs open just fine (ew, that sounded gross) and no, I'm not pregnant, thank you very much.  But now I'm horrified that I look fat in these pants.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://imakite.blogspot.com/"&gt;Christina&lt;/a&gt;, don't be confused.  We're still roller-skating for my birthday.  I just had not told anyone (except Miss Kendra)

SO! To fulfill my obligations (and probably bore half of you), here goes:

&lt;strong&gt;The ABC-Along from &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://beavercreekfarm.typepad.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anne's site&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; I'm supposed to post one picture every 2 weeks for each letter of the alphabet, starting the first 2 weeks of January with Letter A. (I said that TOTALLY wrong, but it makes sense to me.)

So, since I've been slacking, y'all get A, B AND C all at once.

&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/07-25-05%20193.jpg" border="0" /&gt;
&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A is for Alcohol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is a picture of me at a local watering hole on my last birthday, right before everyone but my boyfriend left. Yes, I'm pale, and yes, I'm smoking a cigarette while some chick pops a jello shot in my mouth. I thought that would excite &lt;a href="http://monkeysdeepthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Monkey&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/VEGAS%20143.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;B is for Bellagio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is a fairly decent shot I took of the fountains at the &lt;a href="http://bellagio.com/"&gt;Bellagio &lt;/a&gt;in Las Vegas. This is a particularly poignant picture for me, because I couldn't really grasp the reality of me being in Las Vegas until I got to see the fountains. The fact that we didn't see them until the last night there (last August) is particularly bittersweet.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/07-25-05%20053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;C is for Crazy Cat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This is Woofer.  He has a brother named Tweeter.  They are both nuts and live with my mom and dad, but they're really my cats.  I bought them when I was preggo with MHP, and I'm not really sure why.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Woofer, as you can see, does not know how to read.  He also fell out of a tree when he was little and pooped himself on the way down, my brother promptly gave him a bath, which shocked the crap out of him (not literally)and Woofer hasn't been the same since.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;He's like your "special uncle" who your mom had to convince you not to laugh at when he picked his nose at the dinner table and rubbed it on his chicken.  He's the Napoleon Dynamite of cats.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;But god, if he isn't cute.  He likes to snuggle with my mom's (now blind) dog, which scares the crap out of her.  But it's cute anyway.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;SO!  Onto the last order of business, my Jaywalker Sock (notice the singular) for &lt;a href="http://www.januaryone.com/"&gt;Cara's blog&lt;/a&gt; and the &lt;a href="http://www.januaryone.com/archives/jaywalker_kal/"&gt;Jaywalker KAL&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I have no pictures, because I still (what with having to tow the Beast, and buy a new car, buy new skates for roller derby....) have not bought a new digital camera.  And TB's camera accidentally was dropped in the hot tub last week, so you'll just have to believe me when I say:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm having issues with the pattern, but I've got the cuff and part of a leg of one sock done.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I need to finish at least one sock by the 13th to be entered into the drawing for yarn. (I'm a yarn whore.  However I can get it.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Any bets on whether or not the Rogue or the 3 other pairs of socks, the Clapotis, the baby blanket, or the baby booties will distract me from my goal in the next 12 days? :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113883549935895698?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113883549935895698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113883549935895698' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113883549935895698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113883549935895698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/02/organic-heinz-ketchup-that-is.html' title='Organic Heinz.  Ketchup, that is.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113873605741374760</id><published>2006-01-31T11:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T11:34:17.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Want a hint?</title><content type='html'>Anybody out there want a hint at my new super-secret activity?

Here :)

&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Roller%20PInup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113873605741374760?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113873605741374760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113873605741374760' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113873605741374760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113873605741374760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/want-hint.html' title='Want a hint?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113873072162770386</id><published>2006-01-31T09:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T11:38:46.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Much Ado about Friggin Nothin.</title><content type='html'>I have nothing to say today.

I know, it's amazing, and I could probably blab on and on about how irregular this is, but I'll just give you a picture instead. I'll even spare you the "picture is worth..." quote. :) (I got the "word cloud" from &lt;a href="http://www.snapshirts.com/index.php"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;...mkae your own, and save the final pic to your computer. You can even get a tee shirt if you want...)

Oh, but I did start the hood on &lt;a href="http://www.girlfromauntie.com/patterns/shop/rogue/detail.php"&gt;my Rogue sweater&lt;/a&gt;...after how long??
&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/400/word%20cloud.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113873072162770386?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113873072162770386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113873072162770386' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113873072162770386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113873072162770386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/much-ado-about-friggin-nothin.html' title='Much Ado about Friggin Nothin.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113838582416055288</id><published>2006-01-27T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T10:54:17.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten ways to tell the drugs have kicked in</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;amp;postID=113829871489760084"&gt;Amy Lu's very clever comment on "Oxy-Cotton"&lt;/a&gt; socks makes me laugh so hard I fall right out of my desk chair. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I sign up for the &lt;a href="http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/olympics2006.html"&gt;Knitters' Olympics&lt;/a&gt; to knit something complicated. In 12 days.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My boss can tell I'm stoned out of my mind. He's apparently BORED OUT OF HIS MIND, and decides to f*ck with me while I'm wearing my headphones. He mouths words at me while they're on, then when I take them off to hear him, he says "Alright, I need that done by end of business today, ok?" and walks away. SO not funny at the time, so funny right now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm drinking Diet Coke like it's the elixir of life. Oh wait, that's pretty much EVERY FRIGGIN DAY.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am beyond caring that I haven't matched my socks this morning.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I put on 2 different shoes as well. (They're the same KIND of shoe, just 2 different colours.) I don't particularly care.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I get all the way to work before I realize I only put mascara on one eye. Instead of fixing it, I wait to see who notices.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I leave innappropriate and not at all funny comments on &lt;a href="http://golden-state.blogspot.com"&gt;some&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://nothingwittyleft.blogspot.com"&gt;peoples' blogs&lt;/a&gt;. I apologize profusely, it wasn't me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I waste half my morning slowly checking my email (both personal and work) and playing with &lt;a href="http://www.zefrank.com/dtoy_vs_byokal/index.html"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://www.zefrank.com/byokal/kal2.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. Which, again, is pretty normal for me, but seriously, how long can one sit and stare at a kaleidescope? Hours? Days?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I fell asleep at my desk, with my face stuck to my keyboard.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sorry I'm not very witty today. I don't really have an explanation, other than I'm tired, my ass is bruised, and I'm cranky because I couldn't do my super secret activity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As a random side note/question - does anyone really care what my super-secret activity is? Let me know..I might tell you on Monday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ps - go check out &lt;a href="http://nothingwittyleft.blogspot.com/"&gt;Auntie Sassy's&lt;/a&gt; take on John Mayer and "Your Body is a Wonderland". Very poignant, and I need to stop taking drugs immediately.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113838582416055288?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113838582416055288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113838582416055288' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113838582416055288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113838582416055288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/ten-ways-to-tell-drugs-have-kicked-in.html' title='Ten ways to tell the drugs have kicked in'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113829871489760084</id><published>2006-01-26T09:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T14:22:11.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's here...what?  What's going on?</title><content type='html'>So I finally went to the ER. Yes, I know the dangers of taking drugs that aren't mine, and I know I should have originally gone to the doctor's, but I'm stubborn and have a high tolerance for pain.

So I have ruptured the cushiony sac thingy at the base of your tailbone that normally prevents injury to the tailbone itself. Which means a couple of things:
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have been given several shots of things I don't know, and some really great painkillers. I cannot, however, take the painkillers unless I can stay in one place (or have someone else drive) for 8 hours afterwards.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have not injured the bone itself. Which means the recovery period is much shorter than a bone injury. Which means I can get back to super-secret activity post-haste.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can actually say I did the right thing and went and got treatment for my injury, which hardly EVER happens. Hooray.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I think I might have to search out some of that dye-your-own sock yarn from Knit Picks and some Kool Aid to entertain myself this weekend, which I plan on spending in a small haze of pain-free time. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Thursday! WOO!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Update, 2:22pm:&lt;/u&gt; I suck.  Apparently, my body uses drugs very fast, and the painkillers only last an hour.  I can only take 2 pills per day.  Therefore, I must qualify my pain as "ok", "not really ok", "dear sweet Jesus, kill me now" or "TIME FOR A PILL!!".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113829871489760084?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113829871489760084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113829871489760084' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113829871489760084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113829871489760084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/whos-herewhat-whats-going-on.html' title='Who&apos;s here...what?  What&apos;s going on?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113814155916670537</id><published>2006-01-24T14:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T14:25:59.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One.  Hundred.  Things.</title><content type='html'>I am not happy with the painkillers anymore. They make me stupid.  So, as a punishment to the painkillers, I am forcing myself to actually finish one of those 100 things about me posts.

That's right, can you stand it?  100 things.  You're bored.  I can tell.

Ok, so I'll do two things today and maybe a couple more tomorrow.

1.  I love me some Johnny Cash.  Lots.
2. I don't like taking pills for any reason, especially not ones that screw with my bodily functions or make me feel stupid.  I don't even take aspirin, normally.  Which is why it's such a big deal that I'm on painkillers.  Because I have the pains.  Which need to be killed.

I'm done now.  I'm crawling back into my drug-induced haze and trying to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113814155916670537?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113814155916670537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113814155916670537' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113814155916670537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113814155916670537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/one-hundred-things.html' title='One.  Hundred.  Things.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113806487920465817</id><published>2006-01-23T16:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T17:07:59.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drugs, onions and joy.</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I cracked my tailbone last night.  I won't tell you what I was doing, not because it's embarassing or anything, but because I said yesterday I wasn't going to tell you unless I got better at it.  And apparently, what with breaking stuff and all, I'm not getting a whole lot better.

So the painkillers suggested that, in lieu of an original written-by-Libby post, I will copy &lt;a href="http://golden-state.blogspot.com"&gt;Miss Kendra&lt;/a&gt; and use a meme.

Please excuse my drugged-out-ness while I try to ignore the 9-on-a-scale-of-10 pain factor. 

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer one&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;name:&lt;/strong&gt; Libby the bruised
&lt;strong&gt;birthdate:&lt;/strong&gt; february 12, 1979
&lt;strong&gt;birthplace:&lt;/strong&gt; redmond, wa
&lt;strong&gt;current location:&lt;/strong&gt; redmond, wa  (yes, it's sad.  I know.  Moving on.)
&lt;strong&gt;eye color:&lt;/strong&gt; grey-green with a speck of brown in my left eye where I got poked with a pencil when I was 16
&lt;strong&gt;hair color:&lt;/strong&gt; Mahogany.  (nice way of saying brown, with reddish tints)
righty or lefty: righty
&lt;strong&gt;sun sign:&lt;/strong&gt; i don't know what this means.  But my astrological sign is AQUARIUS.  (It means I'm a fish, I think.)
&lt;strong&gt;innie or outtie:&lt;/strong&gt; innie

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer two&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;heritage:&lt;/strong&gt; my mom is German, Dutch and Irish, my father looks like he should be William Wallace with a pocket protector.  So I'm half large-people-who-like-to-eat, and half Scottish geek.
&lt;strong&gt;shoes you wore today:&lt;/strong&gt; pink worn-out Ugg boots.  No, I did not tuck my pants into them, that's weird. 
&lt;strong&gt;your hair:&lt;/strong&gt; long grown out layers with REALLY long bangs.  Need a cut desperately.
&lt;strong&gt;your weakness:&lt;/strong&gt; rollerskating, bald men, pain, tattoos and MHP
&lt;strong&gt;fears:&lt;/strong&gt; losing my hands, hurting my face, being alone in a crowd where noone looks familiar, getting fired and being caught looking ugly if I meet someone famous.
&lt;strong&gt;your perfect pizza:&lt;/strong&gt; thick crust, pepperoni, mushrooms, olives and HAM.  Not that canadian bacon crap.
&lt;strong&gt;one thing you'd like to achieve:&lt;/strong&gt; It's a state secret.  Can't tell you, or I'd have to hurt you.  But I've hinted several times over the past few weeks.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer three&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;your most overused phrase:&lt;/strong&gt; Dude./I knit something!/What in the purple screaming f*ck?
&lt;strong&gt;your first waking thoughts:&lt;/strong&gt; i SO don't want to get up right now.
&lt;strong&gt;the first features you notice in the opposite sex:&lt;/strong&gt; nose (I'm weird.  I know.)
&lt;strong&gt;your best physical feature:&lt;/strong&gt; my eyes, my hair and my big ol' booty
&lt;strong&gt;your bedtime:&lt;/strong&gt; right now, if I had my druthers, but normally about 11pm.
&lt;strong&gt;your greatest fear:&lt;/strong&gt; Wait.  Didn't I already answer this one?  Well, truly, it's dying alone and knowing noone will mourn me.
&lt;strong&gt;your greatest accomplishment:&lt;/strong&gt; raising MHP
&lt;strong&gt;your most missed memory:&lt;/strong&gt;  having the freedom to pick up and do whatever I wanted without having to lug around all the accoutrements that come along with kiddos, and keeping them entertained.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer four&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;pepsi or coke:&lt;/strong&gt; coke.  And I'd like to have a seriously worded conversation with the person who decided to make Vegas a Pepsi town.  YOU SUCK.
&lt;strong&gt;single or group dates:&lt;/strong&gt; I haven't been on an actual "date" since I first started dating TB.  This needs to be remedied immediately.  The painkillers said so.
&lt;strong&gt;adidas or nike:&lt;/strong&gt; shell-top adidas
&lt;strong&gt;lipton iced tea or nestea:&lt;/strong&gt; I don't drink iced tea, it tastes like rotten socks left out in the sun. (IMHO.)
&lt;strong&gt;chocolate or vanilla:&lt;/strong&gt; vanilla.  although, I don't really eat ice cream.
&lt;strong&gt;cappuccino or coffee:&lt;/strong&gt; depends.  I can't drink straight drip coffee, and cappuccinos make me ill, so it depends if I don't want to drink it, or want to vomit.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer five&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;smoke:&lt;/strong&gt; I need to quit, due to super-secret activity.  so yes, I do.  Marlboro Lights, thanks for asking.
&lt;strong&gt;cuss:&lt;/strong&gt; fuck, yes.
&lt;strong&gt;sing:&lt;/strong&gt; only in the car alone, or at super-secret activity.  (which, incidentally, is not a hint.)
&lt;strong&gt;take a shower everyday:&lt;/strong&gt; yes.  sometimes twice.
&lt;strong&gt;have a crush:&lt;/strong&gt; not right now.  Unless you count &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0589505/"&gt;Wentworth Miller&lt;/a&gt;.
&lt;strong&gt;been in love:&lt;/strong&gt; not sure I even believe in love.
&lt;strong&gt;went to college:&lt;/strong&gt; Yes.  But only for 2 semesters, and 1 1/2 of those, I was drunk.
&lt;strong&gt;liked high school:&lt;/strong&gt; no.  I was somebody else in high school, and I really don't like that person.  Neither did anyone else.
&lt;strong&gt;want to get married:&lt;/strong&gt; not sure.
&lt;strong&gt;believe in yourself:&lt;/strong&gt; not today, I don't...
&lt;strong&gt;type with your fingers on the right keys:&lt;/strong&gt; sort of.  But it's been recently brought to my attention that I don't really use my left pinky or my left ring finger.
&lt;strong&gt;think you're attractive:&lt;/strong&gt; not today.
&lt;strong&gt;think you're a health freak:&lt;/strong&gt; um, no.  Not even a wee bit.
&lt;strong&gt;get along with your parents:&lt;/strong&gt; sometimes.  When they're not being total a-pipes.
&lt;strong&gt;play an instrument&lt;/strong&gt;: a little piano, played the viola for 8 years, a little bit of the bass guitar, the drums, and I've sang in several productions.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer six&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;in the past month, did you...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;drink alcohol&lt;/strong&gt;: yes
&lt;strong&gt;smoke:&lt;/strong&gt; this morning
&lt;strong&gt;do a drug:&lt;/strong&gt; Yay for painkillers! WOO
&lt;strong&gt;make Out:&lt;/strong&gt; yes
&lt;strong&gt;go on a date:&lt;/strong&gt; no
&lt;strong&gt;eat an entire box of Oreos:&lt;/strong&gt; I don't like oreos.
&lt;strong&gt;eat sushi: &lt;/strong&gt;no
&lt;strong&gt;been on stage:&lt;/strong&gt; no
&lt;strong&gt;been dumped&lt;/strong&gt;: no
&lt;strong&gt;gone skating:&lt;/strong&gt; yes
&lt;strong&gt;made homemade cookies:&lt;/strong&gt; no, much to my detriment.
&lt;strong&gt;fall in love:&lt;/strong&gt; not that I know of.
&lt;strong&gt;go skinny dipping:&lt;/strong&gt; no
&lt;strong&gt;dyed your hair:&lt;/strong&gt; no...I'll fix that soon, though...
&lt;strong&gt;stolen anything:&lt;/strong&gt; a kiss?  LOL. No.  I don't steal.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer seven  have you ever...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;played a game that required removal of clothing:&lt;/strong&gt; yes.
&lt;strong&gt;if so, was it mixed company:&lt;/strong&gt; yes.  But I was fully clothed at the end of the game, thanks to my inability to follow directions, sheer luck and cheating my ass off.
&lt;strong&gt;been trashed or extremely intoxicated:&lt;/strong&gt; yes
&lt;strong&gt;been caught doing something:&lt;/strong&gt; um - I'm about to get caught drinking a frappucino, does that count?  What the hell kind of question is this?  (The painkillers are starting to wear off.)
&lt;strong&gt;been called a tease:&lt;/strong&gt; yes
&lt;strong&gt;gotten beaten up:&lt;/strong&gt; yes, but done my fair share of beating as well.
&lt;strong&gt;shoplifted:&lt;/strong&gt; no
&lt;strong&gt;if so, did you get caught:&lt;/strong&gt; n/a
&lt;strong&gt;changed who you were to fit in:&lt;/strong&gt; See my answer to the high school question somewhere up there.  I'm just now figuring out that who I REALLY am is OK, and people will like me, even though I'm odd as hell.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer eight&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;age you hope to be married:&lt;/strong&gt; n/a
&lt;strong&gt;numbers and names of children:&lt;/strong&gt; I only have one kid. His name is classified information, but we call him MHP here.  Stands for "Mr. Handsome Pants" and he's 6.
&lt;strong&gt;describe your dream wedding:&lt;/strong&gt; Vegas.  Elvis.  Pretty dress, flowers.  Period.
&lt;strong&gt;how do you want to die:&lt;/strong&gt; fade away in my sleep at an old age
&lt;strong&gt;what do you want to be when you grow up:&lt;/strong&gt; a real boy!  What the hell kind of question is this?  I want to be ME when I grow up.
&lt;strong&gt;what countr(ies) would you most like to visit:&lt;/strong&gt; tibet, japan, ireland, scotland, spain, italy, Kenya

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;layer nine&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;number of men i have kissed:&lt;/strong&gt; too many to count.  At least 2.
&lt;strong&gt;number of boyfriends you've had:&lt;/strong&gt; More than 2.
&lt;strong&gt;number of drugs taken illegally:&lt;/strong&gt; one.  Maybe 2, if you count the Xanax I took on the plane to Vegas because the guy next to me thought I would strangle him if there was any more turbulence.  And yes, I know the dangers of taking drugs from strangers.  And yes, I was going to choke him.
&lt;strong&gt;number of people i could trust with my life:&lt;/strong&gt; 2
&lt;strong&gt;number of CDs that i own:&lt;/strong&gt; not very many.  Like 20.  Or so.
&lt;strong&gt;number of piercings:&lt;/strong&gt; um.....6, but I only wear 2 on a regular basis.
&lt;strong&gt;number of tattoos:&lt;/strong&gt; 2
&lt;strong&gt;number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper:&lt;/strong&gt; twice, that I know of.
&lt;strong&gt;number of scars on my body:&lt;/strong&gt; two
&lt;strong&gt;number of things in my past that i regret:&lt;/strong&gt; none.  I learn from my mistakes, and they become things I no longer regret.  Although that one time?  At band camp......?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113806487920465817?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113806487920465817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113806487920465817' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113806487920465817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113806487920465817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/drugs-onions-and-joy.html' title='Drugs, onions and joy.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113797506137097597</id><published>2006-01-22T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T16:11:01.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awwww!</title><content type='html'>You guys are so awesome, with the comments and the nice words.  I know I did the right thing, but it really doesn't make it any easier.  I had to go buy yarn to soothe my broken self.

I've got a secret, but I can't tell any of you.  I've been posting a lot of stuff on this blog that never happen...like "I'm buying myself a digital camera!" and "I'll post pictures later today!" and things of that nature.  So I'm keeping this one to myself until it comes to fruition....I'm excited about it, but I still cant tell you.

Oh, and the whole reason I'm posting today is &lt;a href="http://www.republicoft.com/index.php/archives/2006/01/14/ooga-chaka/"&gt;because of this&lt;/a&gt; (Warning: this involves the Hasselhoff.  And inexplicable things.).  I feel as if I do not pass this on, a &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0298130/"&gt;crazy scary little girl will haunt me&lt;/a&gt; and then kill me 3 days or a week later.  (You can tell, I really really paid attention to the movie.)

And I don't know if I've told y'all this, since I don't really read my own archives,  but I am the proud owner of a new (to me) car, and the financing has all been finalized and everything, so I can finally relax on the transportation situation.

Oh, and I finished knitting a hat for myself....&lt;a href="http://www.helloyarn.com/wecallthempirates.htm"&gt;here's the pattern&lt;/a&gt;, in case anyone needs a visual. Instead of black with white skulls, imagine green with pink skulls.  Very girly, yet still very cool.

And for the 90th time, I APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY for the lack of pictures. My birthday is coming up in less than a month (insert hyperventilation here) and I'm apparently getting a camera from my parents.  But we all know how my parents like to gift things.  Not at all.

ANYWAY....now I'm going back into my cyber-nation (hahaha...I'm so tired.), but not before I ask if anyone knows how to make MHP stop singing "Why must I be a teenager in love?".  He's 6.  Watches too much "Muppet Show".  He won't stop singing it, and I'm about to shove a DPN in my ear.

It's totally cute, but veeeeery creepy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113797506137097597?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113797506137097597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113797506137097597' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113797506137097597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113797506137097597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/awwww.html' title='Awwww!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113760812219374412</id><published>2006-01-18T09:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T10:15:22.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Goliath</title><content type='html'>I know, some of you are shocked to see me saying goodbye to Goliath.  After I was &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/man-you-guys-are-awesome.html"&gt;so excited to go pick him up&lt;/a&gt; and even started a KAL that I never did anything with.  Sure, I had &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-suck-and-not-in-good-way.html"&gt;some doubts&lt;/a&gt;, but I sludged through the holidays, with kid and new puppy in tow.

It's when the new year came around that I knew I had made a horrible terrible selfish decision.  I had to send the puppy to my friend Sarah's house, when I was doing all that travelling.  I hardly thought of the dog once while I was gone.  When I DID think of the dog, it was with great relief that I was not having to lug him through the airports, or have him in the rental car, whining up a storm while I tried to drive through hideous traffic...or have to figure out how to get him to go outside when my room was on the 20th floor of the hotel.

So when Sarah came to bring him back last week, I had another panic attack when she showed up. (It was a panic attack that caused me to &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/ow-and-oops-and-thank-god-im-home.html"&gt;collapse at the hotel in Vegas&lt;/a&gt;)  That, and her boyfriend was bawling in the car because he didnt want to give the dog back.

The dog just at this point, was a very not-good idea for me.  He's a great dog, and he's just a doll, but it's one more thing for me to worry about.  With the extra hours I've been working, and the other activity I've been doing (that I've hinted at, but haven't really told you about yet) and taking care of Jake and trying to stay sane, I just don't have the resources left.

My patience is shot, and I want to be able to provide the best home possible for Goliath.  Since MHP has lost interest, and I just don't have the time/energy/patience/lifestyle for the puppy, I've decided to send him to live with Sarah and her crying boyfriend. Forever.

And I hate typing this out because I feel more and more like a big fat failure.  I hate to admit that I've made an incorrect decision, because I like to think that I plan things out fairly well most of the time.  Yeah, I do some things spur-of-the-moment (Tahoe, anyone?) but for the most part, I research and plan and do a lot of thinking and meditating on matters before I make the plunge.

This time, I apparently just wanted a cute puppy, and didn't think. 

And now I'm going to go into cyber-hibernation for a little while, during which I will try to work through my shame and guilt in making this decision.

Hope y'all have a great weekend!  I know, it's wednesday, but I probably won't be on again until Monday.

And if you live in Seattle, I'm knitting life vests ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113760812219374412?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113760812219374412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113760812219374412' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113760812219374412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113760812219374412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/goodbye-goliath.html' title='Goodbye Goliath'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113747672200157538</id><published>2006-01-16T20:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T21:45:22.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Globes (the actual show); blog styleee.</title><content type='html'>I know, your eyes are bleeding.  But I'm having fun.

&lt;strong&gt;8pm&lt;/strong&gt; - Stop with the rip-off songs.  They re-worded the &lt;strong&gt;Pussycat Dolls&lt;/strong&gt; song "&lt;strong&gt;Dontcha&lt;/strong&gt;" for the opening of the Globe show, which was actually a rip-off of a &lt;strong&gt;Sir Mix A Lot&lt;/strong&gt; song anyway, and yuck.  I am going to go look for something sharp with which to poke my eardrums out.

&lt;strong&gt;8:10 - George&lt;/strong&gt; won for something.  I'm still distracted by the fact that &lt;strong&gt;Natalie Portman&lt;/strong&gt; looks like a man in a dress.  &lt;strong&gt;Rachel Weisz&lt;/strong&gt; won for &lt;strong&gt;Constant Gardener&lt;/strong&gt;.  Supporting actor/actress, I think.  I'm still wondering why Rachel would have hideous eyebrows and a terrible dress.  They make some beautiful maternity dresses.  Please go find one.  Take &lt;strong&gt;Gwyneth&lt;/strong&gt; with you.  And buy her some blush while you're out.

&lt;strong&gt;8:20 -&lt;/strong&gt; Haha - I get it.  The new superman and the old Lois Lane are presenting awards together.  Funny.  Not so much.  Where is &lt;strong&gt;Paul Newman&lt;/strong&gt;?  Does he not care anymore?  HOW DID I MISS THE ELVIS MINI-SERIES??  &lt;strong&gt;Sandra Oh&lt;/strong&gt; won.  Woo!  She got lost, though...that's so cute.  And now she's stuttering.  But she's still friggin adorable...I loved her in &lt;strong&gt;Under the Tuscan Sun&lt;/strong&gt;.

&lt;strong&gt;8:26 - Drew Barrymore&lt;/strong&gt; is still around?  Wow.  She needs to wear something over her nipples in that dress.  They're making more of an appearance than she is.

&lt;strong&gt;8:29 -&lt;/strong&gt; Are the people at this show eating dinner, or just drinking?  Or are they seated at tables for show? &lt;strong&gt; Emmy Rossum&lt;/strong&gt; is cute, but needs to stop wearing fluffy dresses.  She's not 16 anymore.

&lt;strong&gt;8:30 -&lt;/strong&gt; Who the hell was that?  The chick nominated for Caesar or something is HAWT.  We're talking FIERCE sex kitten woman!  I think she was in the process of eating someone's soul when they zoomed in on her though.

&lt;strong&gt;8:34 - Geena Davis&lt;/strong&gt; is a big fat liar.  And that dress is really unflattering.

&lt;strong&gt;8:35 - EVANGELINE&lt;/strong&gt;!!! And &lt;strong&gt;Ian McShane&lt;/strong&gt; from DEADWOOD!! The ...I just wet my pants; they showed &lt;strong&gt;Wentworth Miller&lt;/strong&gt; from Prison Break.  And &lt;strong&gt;Hugh Laurie&lt;/strong&gt; from House won!  WOO!!  He just gave the best fucking acceptance speech I've ever heard.  He said he could have thanked 173 people, so he wrote them all on little slips of paper and put them in his pocket and drew 3 out to thank.  It's a funny concept.  You'd have to see it to understand. I love him.

&lt;strong&gt;8:40 -&lt;/strong&gt; The sound just went out on my TV.  And just in time.  &lt;strong&gt;Melanie Griffith&lt;/strong&gt; and one of her death-like daughters are doing something.  Ope, there it came back in.  With a shot of &lt;strong&gt;Mel Brooks&lt;/strong&gt; with a giant bottle of MOET champagne in front of him.

&lt;strong&gt;8:49 - WILLIAM PETERSEN&lt;/strong&gt;!  With &lt;strong&gt;Pamela Anderson&lt;/strong&gt;.  Does anyone think she's actually SEEN &lt;strong&gt;CSI&lt;/strong&gt;? And was she ever a porn star?  Because she should have been, with the way she said Steve Carell's name.  (How the hell DO you spell his name anyway??) 

&lt;strong&gt;8:55 -&lt;/strong&gt; Sorry, I got bored and dozed off for a second.  But &lt;strong&gt;Jamie Foxxxxxxxxx&lt;/strong&gt; is on now, and hes pointing out girls, so I'm assuming he's giving some sort of actress award.  I'm distracted by his sunglasses, which are the same colour as his face.  &lt;strong&gt;Reese&lt;/strong&gt; won for &lt;strong&gt;Walk the Line&lt;/strong&gt;, of course.  SUCK IT BITCH!  What kind of idiot doesn't thank the person whose life she portrayed on film?  This upsets me.  I'm a wee bit pissed.

&lt;strong&gt;9:03 -&lt;/strong&gt; I can't believe it.  &lt;strong&gt;Mary Louise Parker&lt;/strong&gt; of &lt;strong&gt;Weeds&lt;/strong&gt; went up against the fearsome foursome of &lt;strong&gt;Desperate Housewives&lt;/strong&gt;, and she WON.  I can't believe it.  (Did I already say that??)

&lt;strong&gt;9:10 -&lt;/strong&gt; I wish they would feed &lt;strong&gt;Kate Beckinsale&lt;/strong&gt;. 

&lt;strong&gt;9:14 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Elvis&lt;/strong&gt; WON!  Wait - Elvis is Irish?  I didn't know that. His girlfriend is pretty....I'm running out of witty and snarky things to say.  My head is starting to hurt, and I think in 46 minutes, I'm switching over to &lt;strong&gt;RollerGirls&lt;/strong&gt; on &lt;strong&gt;A&amp;E&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;I'm so happy that &lt;strong&gt;S. Epatha Merkeson&lt;/strong&gt; won - she's so great.  I love her in everything.  And she is so humble and lovely.

&lt;strong&gt;9:24 - Harrison Ford&lt;/strong&gt; looks like hell.  Apparently,&lt;strong&gt; Ally McBeal&lt;/strong&gt; is not treating him right.  Right now, I'm more entertained by my dog chasing his tail all over the apartment than this show.  He's drinking on stage.  &lt;strong&gt;Harrison&lt;/strong&gt;. Not my dog. 

&lt;strong&gt;9:29 -&lt;/strong&gt; This dude is thanking his typewriter.  HA!  They just had a shot of the &lt;strong&gt;Desperate Housewives&lt;/strong&gt; all drinking.  That was funny.

&lt;strong&gt;9:34 -&lt;/strong&gt; HOW did they skip &lt;strong&gt;Josh Duhamel&lt;/strong&gt; on the pre-show?  That man is an orgasm for your eyeballs.  So so so so so so so hot.  And &lt;strong&gt;Desperate Housewives&lt;/strong&gt; just won something.I don't really know what it was, because I stopped caring about 20 minutes ago.

&lt;strong&gt;9:39 -&lt;/strong&gt; Sweet Jesus.  &lt;strong&gt;Matthew McConaghey&lt;/strong&gt; could wear a teeshirt and boxers to these things and still be the most smoking-hot thing in the room.  Some foreign film I've never heard of just won something.

OK, I'm done.  I'm beyond giving a rat's ass as to what is going on, so I'm just going to sign off.

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113747672200157538?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113747672200157538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113747672200157538' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113747672200157538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113747672200157538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/globes-actual-show-blog-styleee.html' title='Globes (the actual show); blog styleee.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113747108166023662</id><published>2006-01-16T18:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T11:22:17.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging the Globes Pre-Show</title><content type='html'>I would love to have some relevant, witty topic today, but I can't. I'm incapable of independent thought today, so I'm blogging the Globes. And no, I dont mean I'm watching porn and telling you all about it.

I've been drinking an entire bottle of wine. And I'm in a snarky mood. &lt;strong&gt;You've been warned.&lt;/strong&gt;

You are excused from today's post if you do not care. (Which probably means I just lost &lt;a href="http://lessinges.typepad.com"&gt;Egan&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.anonymouscoworker.com/"&gt;Anonymous Coworker&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://monkeysdeepthoughts.blogspot.com/"&gt;Monkey&lt;/a&gt;. IF any of them even read my blog anymore ;)

&lt;strong&gt;6:11 -&lt;/strong&gt; Watching the pre-show on E! (Why do they put the exclamation point there?) They're gushing over &lt;strong&gt;Anne Hathaway&lt;/strong&gt;. ("They" being &lt;strong&gt;Issac Mizrahi&lt;/strong&gt;. Who I adore, and who needs to be my friend immediately.) She looks like death with a big mouth. Who told her that french braids were cute past the age of 9? And the red lipstick makes her mouth look bigger. Please, Anne, if you're going to use that mouth, eat &lt;strong&gt;Teri Hatcher&lt;/strong&gt;.

And I love the leader dude on Lost (the one from Party of 5). He has been married for 8 billion years to a hot woman with an accent.

&lt;strong&gt;6:13 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/title/tt0408985/"&gt;"Last Holiday"&lt;/a&gt; will not be on the list for the Globes next year.

&lt;strong&gt;6:18 -&lt;/strong&gt; Apparently, &lt;strong&gt;George Clooney&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Teri Hatcher&lt;/strong&gt; went out to dinner. Who cares? I do. George, you have gone blind. Although, she could come in handy during dinner. If the waiter does not provide proper utensils, you could use her scapulas to slice your meat.

&lt;strong&gt;6:19 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Scarlett Johannsen&lt;/strong&gt; (or however you spell her name) had some hideous hair. Not sure when that picture was taken, but honey? Stay away from light sockets. &lt;strong&gt;Jaime Pressley&lt;/strong&gt; is hawt. She looks totally gorgeous. &lt;strong&gt;Naveen Andrews&lt;/strong&gt; is dating his grandmother. Which is super nice for him, but he's so smoking hot, he could get &lt;strong&gt;Lindsay Lohan&lt;/strong&gt; if she wasn't dating Lennon's son. Allegedly. &lt;a href="http://www.perezhilton.com"&gt;Not that I pay attention to gossip...&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;strong&gt;6:24 -&lt;/strong&gt; I hate &lt;strong&gt;Teri Hatcher's&lt;/strong&gt; dress. I think she looks like an idiot. Too many GODDAMN sparkles. GO BACK TO SUPERMAN WOMAN!! And I think I need a colonic cleanse after hearing she's going commando. AND YOUR HAIR IS BORING.

6:26 - There is some cute blonde wandering around with a pretty red dress that remind me of my Homecoming dress in 19...I'm not telling you. She looks cute.

&lt;strong&gt;6:27 -&lt;/strong&gt; I LOVE &lt;strong&gt;JAIME PRESSLEY&lt;/strong&gt;. Even though she's a ho, she loks so well put-together, and with a lovely hairdo, very sleek and cute. And dear god, they're showing her and Teri at the same time, and Teri turned around, and I think she poked her handler's eye out.

&lt;strong&gt;6:27 1/2 -&lt;/strong&gt; OMIGOD &lt;strong&gt;STEVE CARRELL&lt;/strong&gt;!!!! I LOVE YOU!! I'm done now.

&lt;strong&gt;6:28 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Ryan PeeCrest&lt;/strong&gt; just cut off Jaime. He's now on the list. I think I just saw &lt;strong&gt;Randy Quaid&lt;/strong&gt;. How is he even relevant anymore?? &lt;strong&gt;The evil satan chick&lt;/strong&gt; (Mr. McDreamys wife) from Grey's Anatomy was just shown. That shade of red on her head is not found in nature. In fact, she looks like Anne Hathaway's mom. Very goth.

&lt;strong&gt;6:31 -&lt;/strong&gt; WHO CARES ABOUT &lt;strong&gt;NICOLETTE SHERIDAN&lt;/strong&gt;??? Oh good, &lt;strong&gt;Eva Long-Whoria&lt;/strong&gt;. I love her hair though. SHE'S GOING TO TAKE THE NUN OUT??? JESUS!! I can't believe I have practice on Sunday nights. I have to get TeeVooo.

&lt;strong&gt;6:32 -&lt;/strong&gt; Some lady just attacked someone with a giant bunch of teeny white boas. I'm afraid for his safety. ISSAC!! Stop asking about Eva's cooch hair! Nobody wants to hear that!!

&lt;strong&gt;6:36 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Ludacris&lt;/strong&gt;? What the hell is he doing there? Ooh. &lt;strong&gt;Debra Messing&lt;/strong&gt; looks hot. HOT! Stop talking about spray tanning people. They need to outlaw that shit. Um, what's &lt;strong&gt;Don Johnson&lt;/strong&gt; doing on the carpet? And DEAR GOD, someone needs to get ahold of &lt;strong&gt;Tim Robbins. &lt;/strong&gt;His hair looks awful.

&lt;strong&gt;6:42 - Natalie Portman&lt;/strong&gt; is pretty, and at least she's not wearing a sack this year. However, she needs some extensions. I love &lt;strong&gt;the "My Name is Earl" guys.&lt;/strong&gt; That one dude lost SO MUCH WEIGHT!! He was in "Butterfly Effect"...and now I'm rambling. Jason's girlfriend is cute.

&lt;strong&gt;6:44 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Kyra Sedgewick&lt;/strong&gt; is always beautiful. And she doesn't disappoint today. WHERE DID &lt;strong&gt;NATALIE PORTMAN'S&lt;/strong&gt; BOOBS COME FROM???

&lt;strong&gt;6:47 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;George&lt;/strong&gt;, I love you. And you're so nice and you're hot and I love you. Please tell me it's not true that you're with Skeletor. I will mourn. IS THAT &lt;strong&gt;COLUMBO&lt;/strong&gt;??? JESUS!!! Um, what is the &lt;strong&gt;Crossing Jordan&lt;/strong&gt; woman we....oh my god. LOOK AT &lt;strong&gt;JENNY McCARTHY&lt;/strong&gt;!! And &lt;strong&gt;Marcia Cross&lt;/strong&gt;! I'm going blind with these hawt people everywhere.

&lt;strong&gt;6:54 -&lt;/strong&gt; Did &lt;strong&gt;Sarah Jessica Parker&lt;/strong&gt; just grab her own boobs? Jesus.

&lt;strong&gt;6:51&lt;/strong&gt; - Had to order a pizza. I come back, and &lt;strong&gt;Reese Witherspoon's&lt;/strong&gt; hair is beautiful (as is her arm candy) but her dress is kind of weird and OMIGOD WHAT THE HELL IS &lt;strong&gt;MELANIE GRIFFITH &lt;/strong&gt;DOING??? They look like weird bridesmaids. Good parents dont match their clothes to their children. Dear jesus, someone call CPS.

7:02 - &lt;strong&gt;ADRIAN&lt;/strong&gt;!!! I love him. Yes, I've seen "The Jacket". What is &lt;strong&gt;Paul Giamatti &lt;/strong&gt;doing with the facial hair? Wow.

&lt;strong&gt;7:04 - Candice Bergen&lt;/strong&gt; does look very very lovely for her age. And omigod, &lt;strong&gt;Alanis Morisette&lt;/strong&gt; looks like a FREAK. The blond hair is a COP OUT and she needs to GO BACK AND BE ANGRY SOME MORE. I related to your music in high school. Now I just hate you because you stole &lt;strong&gt;Ryan Reynolds&lt;/strong&gt; from me. Please stop looking like &lt;strong&gt;Farrah Fawcett&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Debi Mazar&lt;/strong&gt; looks gorgeous and very 40's vintage pin-up, as usual.

&lt;strong&gt;7:06 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Keira Knightley's&lt;/strong&gt; accent makes my little heart sing. However. Her dress is weird. Looks like she has a giant macrame booger on her pelvis. And my mother would bug her to stand up straight. She is very lovely, though.

&lt;strong&gt;7:09 - KIEFER KIEFER KIEFER&lt;/strong&gt;!! I LOVE YOU TOO!! Stop showing &lt;strong&gt;Michael Bolton&lt;/strong&gt;. Nobody cares anymore. Dude,&lt;strong&gt; Felicity Huffman&lt;/strong&gt; is fierce. She is so beautiful.

Even though it's sunny on the TV and dark here, I seem to have forgotten that this is delayed. Thus, when I got a pop-up through my MSN Messenger that &lt;strong&gt;Steve Carrell&lt;/strong&gt; won something, I was, needless to say, a little sad.

&lt;strong&gt;7:11 -&lt;/strong&gt; God, &lt;strong&gt;Marcia Cross&lt;/strong&gt; is beautiful. If my hair was a tinge redder, I would still look nothing like her, but a girl could dream. &lt;strong&gt;Ryan PeeCrest&lt;/strong&gt; needs to stop talking. And Marcia gives hope to pale girls everywhere, that we don't need the spray tan.

&lt;strong&gt;7:16 -&lt;/strong&gt; What the hell is &lt;strong&gt;Charlize Theron&lt;/strong&gt; wearing? Jesus! She is so incredibly beautiful, and............................................I'm sorry I got distracted by &lt;strong&gt;Jessica Alba&lt;/strong&gt;. She does not disappoint. Holy smokes. With a train, and the gather, and the simple earrings, and I'm drooling on myself. And I'm straight.

&lt;strong&gt;7:18 -&lt;/strong&gt; OMIGOD I JUST WENT BLIND. &lt;strong&gt;Jessica Alba&lt;/strong&gt; and&lt;strong&gt; Marcia Cross&lt;/strong&gt; standing next to each other, I think that's a harbinger of the apocalypse...too much gorgeousness in one place. At least they're not kissing. Then I would be in pain. And I'm still straight. And there is &lt;strong&gt;Pamela Anderson-Lee-Not-Lee&lt;/strong&gt;, and what the hell is she wearing??

&lt;strong&gt;7:21 -&lt;/strong&gt; I have completely given up on &lt;strong&gt;Gwyneth Paltrow&lt;/strong&gt;. She does not wear things that fit, or that are flattering. Gwyneth, I wash my hands of you.

&lt;strong&gt;7:24 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;SJP&lt;/strong&gt; needs to stop. She looks dumb. &lt;strong&gt;Mandy Moore&lt;/strong&gt;...is wearing a giant string of Mardi Gras beads. Jesus, people. And &lt;strong&gt;Faith Hill&lt;/strong&gt; looks so incredibly beautful. I just want to stare all day long at her husband....

&lt;strong&gt;7:29 -&lt;/strong&gt; Are you serious? Yeah, &lt;strong&gt;Michelle Williams&lt;/strong&gt; just had a baby, but COME ON. She looks like she's jumping out of a giant purple birthday cake. And did anyone remind &lt;strong&gt;Heath Ledger&lt;/strong&gt; that this is not the prom, and he doesn't need to match his boutonniere to his date's dress?

&lt;strong&gt;7:31 - Johnny Depp&lt;/strong&gt; looks like...omigod. What the hell happened to &lt;strong&gt;Penelope Cruz's&lt;/strong&gt; hair? It looks like a bad wig. &lt;strong&gt;SEAL&lt;/strong&gt;!!! I LOVE SEAL!

&lt;strong&gt;7:33 - Issac&lt;/strong&gt; needs to stop asking &lt;strong&gt;Queen Latifah&lt;/strong&gt; about her underwear. He needs to stop asking EVERYONE about their damned underwear. And &lt;strong&gt;Reese Witherspoon&lt;/strong&gt; looks like an idiot. Her dress looks like one I wore in a church recital in 1985. The day I was born. (Kidding)

&lt;strong&gt;7:35 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Nancy O'Dell&lt;/strong&gt; from Access Hollywood! You are so tan and yet I love you more than popcorn!! And &lt;strong&gt;Renee Zellweger&lt;/strong&gt;, please. TRY. TRY TO LOOK LIKE YOU CARE.

&lt;strong&gt;7:36 -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Geena Davis&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;Scarlett Johansen&lt;/strong&gt; are wearing the same colour, yet they are so...I lost track of my thought because &lt;strong&gt;Evangeline Lilly&lt;/strong&gt; is so stunningly beautiful I want to cry. God.

&lt;strong&gt;7:40 -&lt;/strong&gt; I don't even want to talk about &lt;strong&gt;Charlize&lt;/strong&gt;. Yeah, its &lt;strong&gt;John Galliano&lt;/strong&gt; (whose shoes I would kiss if he would just love me...), but she looks like a ballerina on mescaline. Or speedballs. An funny, how I keep talking about her after I said I didn't want to. But her hair looks dumb. And apparently, her gaudy ugly bracelet came from a museum. I love her shoes. Please, honey, try harder next time. I will hold my breath until then.

&lt;strong&gt;7:44 -&lt;/strong&gt; I just went blind. And not in a good way - &lt;strong&gt;Mariah Carey&lt;/strong&gt; just came on. I...I can't say anything because all that would come out would be sobbing and crying and tearing of garments. I think she's actually the anti-Christ and her breasts harbour nuclear weapons strong enough to destroy the entire planet.

&lt;strong&gt;7:49 -&lt;/strong&gt; I want to know why &lt;strong&gt;Johnny Depp&lt;/strong&gt; doesn't care anymore. And why his wife doesn't get the space between her teeth fixed. He can afford it!

&lt;strong&gt;7:50 -&lt;/strong&gt; Go back to &lt;strong&gt;Chad&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;Hilary Swank&lt;/strong&gt;. He supported you when you were nothing. And stop showing Mariah. Please. She looks like an Oompa Loompa...in the face at least. The gold makeup she's alluding to is awful. AWFUL.

&lt;strong&gt;7:52 -&lt;/strong&gt; Um, did &lt;strong&gt;Rosario Dawson&lt;/strong&gt; become an old woman? She's wearing a muumuu. And I apparently missed Isaac full-on molesting &lt;strong&gt;Scarlett Johansen&lt;/strong&gt;.

And its done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113747108166023662?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113747108166023662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113747108166023662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113747108166023662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113747108166023662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/blogging-globes-pre-show.html' title='Blogging the Globes Pre-Show'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113719838096344822</id><published>2006-01-13T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T16:26:20.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This shit is BANANAS</title><content type='html'>I hate that song.  Gwen, I love.  Song?  I HATE.

Anyway.  So I went shopping while I was here, and bought a bunch of stuff, including yarn, and it was very exciting.  Except, now I have to check a bag to go home :)

So, I have the passport.  I haven't put it down since I picked it up an hour and a half ago...except to go through security because they made me.

I'm going home.  To my bed, where I will sleep for a while.  A long while.

If you'd like to reach me...wait until Monday :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113719838096344822?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113719838096344822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113719838096344822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113719838096344822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113719838096344822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/this-shit-is-bananas.html' title='This shit is BANANAS'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113717481714602679</id><published>2006-01-13T09:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T09:53:37.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>San Francisco Treat (ding ding!)</title><content type='html'>You'll have to excuse me. I'm in a sleep-deprived state of delirium at this point. I'm typing to the lovely jaw-shaking sounds of a LAAARGE jackhammer destroying part of Market Street.
&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/SFview.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px" height="214" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/SFview.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
I'm planning on heading to the consulate any moment now to see how much longer I have to explore the city...not expecting to stay until my 8pm flight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113717481714602679?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113717481714602679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113717481714602679' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113717481714602679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113717481714602679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/san-francisco-treat-ding-ding.html' title='San Francisco Treat (ding ding!)'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113715760688921196</id><published>2006-01-13T04:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T05:06:46.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madness at the Airport</title><content type='html'>Kind of like "Fire at the Disco".  But different.


&lt;strong&gt;DISCLAIMER: I am so tired, I can barely see.  I could probably keep my eyes open if I really tried, but I have no desire.  Please keep my sleep deprivation, my 120+ hours of work in my 12 day work week, and my general dislike for airports in general in mind when you read this.  And I apologize if I offend anyone.  In advance, y'all.&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
So guess how many other idiots...I mean TRAVELLERS...would be travelling at FOUR THIRTY IN THE MORNING at the Sea-Tac airport?  No guesses?

Apparently 1.2 bintillion.

Seriously.  It's 4:55 and there are like fourty-leven thousand people here.  I should have been smart and gone through security an hour ago, when I got here, but instead I needed coffee so at least one of my eyes was open when I went thtrough the security checkpoint.  So in the 8 minutes it takes me to order my coffee (apparently, the Charbucks girl didn't speak 4-in-the-morning-hoarse-voice-and-no-brain language, and I had to tell her several times what I wanted), the line to go through security goes from like 8 people to filling up the little rat maze of roping they've got set up and overflowing down the walkway.  I swear, it stretches a city block.

Maybe I'm exaggerating, but I have to catch a flight in an hour.  I'm not 100% sure I'm going to make it.

So I've been pretty lucky with the 5 flights I've taken over the past month to only have &lt;strong&gt;one time&lt;/strong&gt; where security was CRAMMED.  And unfortunately, it's for the flight I LEAST want to take.  And that would be today, for those of you following along at home.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Aside:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; God, I miss my bed.  I think I actually heard it calling my name late last night while I slept crunched up on my parents' love seat.

More people keep coming, and they don't look like they're letting up anytime soon, so I'd probably better stop being a &lt;strong&gt;LARGE DORK&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;BLOGGING ABOUT THE GODDAMN LINE FOR SECURITY AT THE AIRPORT&lt;/strong&gt; because I apparently have &lt;strong&gt;NOTHING BETTER TO DO&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;I SHOULD&lt;/strong&gt; go stand in the goddamn line like a lemming.

Kill me now.  Please.

I forgot my tiny bottle of Bailey's at home.  I'm a little upset about that.  I could REALLY use it right now.

JESUS WHERE ARE THESE PEOPLE COMING FROM?????  It's like a RIVER OF PEOPLE!

I'm going now.  I swear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113715760688921196?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113715760688921196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113715760688921196' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113715760688921196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113715760688921196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/madness-at-airport.html' title='Madness at the Airport'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113713307955977875</id><published>2006-01-12T22:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T22:17:59.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inaptitude.  Indecency.  Insomnia. In N Out Burgers.</title><content type='html'>Lots of in words today, but I'm feeling very out. The final verdict on the Beast is that I might as well spend my money (which doesn't exist) on a new car (in which "new" means "still running for the test drive, and possibly the ride home.)

I'm trying to go to sleep, since I have to leave for the airport at the UNGODLY hour of 4am (but get to travel by towncar, so I don't have to be awake) to catch a 6am flight so I can try and maneuver my way to the consulate in San Francisco without taking emergency stops at Macy's or Alcatraz or the sea lions.  Or maybe try to find a knitting shop.  Or an In N Out. 

So I can sit at the consulate and wait.

I'm thrilled beyond all measures, let me tell you. At least the bossman let me take the wireless card so I can sit and blog about the people in the consulate. I'm ecstatic.

I may cry at any moment now. Send cookies and alcohol...although they won't let me fly drunk.

I have a headache.

PS - my day would have been even more hideous if I had not found a package on my bed from my secret pal this morning.  Apparently, my roommate picked it up and completely forgot to give it to me.  I'll post pictures or a thorough rave about her and her blog and her package soon....as soon as I find the other half of my brain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113713307955977875?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113713307955977875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113713307955977875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113713307955977875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113713307955977875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/inaptitude-indecency-insomnia-in-n-out.html' title='Inaptitude.  Indecency.  Insomnia. In N Out Burgers.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113709800310495517</id><published>2006-01-12T12:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T12:33:23.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>COULD THE SMITING STOP, PLEASE?</title><content type='html'>So I'm driving home in the Beast yesterday.  MHP in the car, rocking out to some tuneage, and *cough!*  The engine dies.

Dies as in DNR, oxygen tube, Million Dollar Baby dead.  DEAD.  On one of the busiest freeways in the Seattle area. At rush hour. 

Could someone please tell me how to get off THIS karma train and onto the one where money falls from the sky and someone gives me an Expedition for free?

Would appreciate it.

If not, please let God know (in your own way, and to your own God, or mine if you'd like) that I don't want to get struck by lightning.  Please and thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113709800310495517?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113709800310495517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113709800310495517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113709800310495517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113709800310495517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/could-smiting-stop-please.html' title='COULD THE SMITING STOP, PLEASE?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113701964357682765</id><published>2006-01-11T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T15:55:31.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad news.  And more airplanes.</title><content type='html'>So. Lucky me, I get to go to San Fransisco on Friday for 6 hours.

Don't clean your glasses, you read that right. 6 HOURS. Not days.

To spare you a long story full of profanities and me tossing sleep-deprived-and-hospital-bound tantrums, I'll give you the short backstory to this. In bullets, because I love bullets.
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Boss needs visa for Asian country, which will remain unnamed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Libby was out of town last Friday, which was when he needed to send his passport in to obtain said visa.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Libby's sidekick takes over, and gives passport to stupid receptionist, who will heretofore be referred to as MFSH. (motherfucking stupid head.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;MFSH does NOT send passport to our travel department, but sends it to our BRIEFING CENTER which has NOTHING WHATSOWHOEVER to do with travel.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Briefing Center puts passport (in envelope, with credit card information and boss's personal information) on top of desk (in public thoroughfare) and leaves it there for 4 days, not checking to see if someone is expecting it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find out yesterday that passport is not at consulate for visa. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have to hunt for passport.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find passport. Throw tantrum.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go back to office. Throw tantrum at receptionist and threaten to get her fired.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Boss finds out. He throws tantrum at all people mentioned above, including me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only option left is for me to fly to SF on Friday and sit at Chinese consulate and wait for them to complete visa and then bring it back on plane, so boss can leave on Saturday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm exhausted. Anyone want to trade jobs for a smidge?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE: I may have time for yarn shopping while I'm there, depending on whether or not the visa takes FOREVER to process.  If anyone has suggestions on yarn shops in San Francisco, please let me know.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113701964357682765?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113701964357682765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113701964357682765' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113701964357682765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113701964357682765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/bad-news-and-more-airplanes.html' title='Bad news.  And more airplanes.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113693014491701464</id><published>2006-01-10T13:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T13:55:44.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For my new Secret Pal</title><content type='html'>All the rest of you are excused for today.

&lt;strong&gt;1. a) Are you a yarn snob (do you prefer higher quality and/or natural fibers)?&lt;/strong&gt; Not really a yarn snob - if it feels nice and is not a puke color, I'll buy it. I tend to rub skeins of yarn either under my chin, on my cheek or on the inside of my wrists to see how soft they are, and this sometimes makes LYS employees wonder for my sanity.  But seriously, I cannot stand eyelash and fun fur yarn. It makes me want to scream obscenities and throw things. I think it stems from the first Christmas I knew how to knit and decided to knit these hideous scarves from eyelash and/or fun fur for everyone...and no one ever wore them. But I don't holda  grudge.  Anyway...

&lt;strong&gt;b) Do you avoid Red Heart and Lion Brand? Or is it all the same to you?&lt;/strong&gt; I bought Lion Brand Wool-Ease for my first Rogue, so I don't have anything against the brand, but their acrylic stuff does not pass the softness test. I haven't found any Red Heart that I actually LIKE (other than their camoflauge yarn), but I don't hold any secret hatred in my heart for it.

&lt;strong&gt;2. Do you spin? Crochet?&lt;/strong&gt; I would love to know how to spin. I have a semi-aborted attempt on a really nice hand spindle in a hideous brown wool somewhere in my house and a kick-ass rainbow fleece just waiting to be spun, but I'm knee-deep in UFOs and work, and other things right now, so spinning is on the back burner.As for crocheting, I suck at it. I don't like it, it scares me and I have no desire to crochet. (No offense to crocheters at all. My not-really-mother-in-law crochets and she makes some amazing stuff.)

&lt;strong&gt;3. Do you have any allergies?&lt;/strong&gt; (smoke, pets, fibers, perfume, etc.) Not that I know of. But any assistance in discovering previously unknown allergies would be much appreciated so I can avoid them in the future :)

&lt;strong&gt;4. How long have you been knitting?&lt;/strong&gt; I don't know. No, seriously, I started knitting while working as an underwriter's assistant at a big insurance company (which has a baseball field named after it here in Seattle, but I'm not naming names) to ease the boredom. I started with an afghan. (Yes, I like to learn the hard way.) That was...um....almost 4 years ago? Wow. I'm getting old. ANYWAY - I taught myself from a book and it was very exciting, and now we're moving on.

&lt;strong&gt;5. Do you have an Amazon or other online wish list?&lt;/strong&gt; I am obsessed with books.  It would take me too long to make an Amazon wish list.

&lt;strong&gt;6. What's your favorite scent?&lt;/strong&gt; (for candles, bath products etc.) Uh...I like vanilla and sweetpea and anything that doesn't smell like evergreens, pretty much. I like "warm" scents. I wear Burberry Brit, just to give you an idea of the scent palette I like.

Oh, and TB bought me a candle for Christmas that smells like Mandarin oranges, and I just about plotzed, it smells so good.

&lt;strong&gt;7. Do you have a sweet tooth?&lt;/strong&gt; No. I know, I'm totally weird, but the only thing I really honestly go nuts for is this white chocolate and butterscotch thing with almonds in it that you can only get at Boehm's Chocolate in Issaquah. (Just outside of Bellevue, which is just outside of Seattle. Near my house.) I'm still recovering from a chocolate mousse I had in Las Vegas, that damn near sent me into a diabetic coma, it was so sweet and loverly, so I'm ok.  No candy. 

&lt;strong&gt;8. What other crafts or Do-It-Yourself things do you like to do?&lt;/strong&gt; I don't have time for any other crafts :) I'm a knitting fiend. I have, however, gotten into learning how to make my own stitch markers. I figure the nicer they are, the less likely I am to lose them. Backwards logic, I know.

&lt;strong&gt;9. What kind of music do you like? Can your computer/stereo play MP3s? (if your buddy wants to make you a CD)&lt;/strong&gt; I like pretty much everything but MOST Rap and Pop. This includes (but is definitely not limited to) jazz, swing, classical, some "world" music (like Japanese flutes, African drums and Spanish flamenco, along with others), musicals, thrash rock, grunge (grew up in Seattle, what do you expect?) and Johnny Cash. (Johnny gets his own category. I love Johnny Cash. I walk the line, man.)

Just to give you an idea of my wide range of tastes, here is a list of some songs in regular rotation on my Napster account:

La Tortura - Shakira
Break Stuff - Limp Bizkit
Cochise - Audioslave
Naughty Girl - Beyonce (I break my "no pop" rule for a few of her songs)I'm Only Happy When it Rains - Garbage
Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) - Big &amp; Rich (I LOVE COUNTRY)
Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing - John Legend
Girls Lie Too - Terri Clark
Sympathy for the Devil - Rolling Stones
Paint it Black - Stones
Cigaro - Audioslave
Beer for My Horses - Toby Keith (f. Willie Nelson)
Zombie - The Cranberries
Megalomaniac - Incubus (LOVE INCUBUS!!)
So What the Fuss - Stevie Wonder
Ten Rounds with Jose Cuervo - Tracy Byrd
Chicks Dig It - Chris Cagle
Viva Las Vegas - Elvis (Vegas AND Elvis in one song. Nothin' better.)
Bitch - Meredith Brooks
A slew of symphonies by Mozart, Bach &amp;amp; Beethoven (too many to name)
I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace
Only - Nine Inch Nails (Best song on the radio right now, hands down.)

This is my playlist from work (I play it ALL DAY) - is it bad that there are so many angry rock songs and songs about drinking on there? LOL

Oh, and about MP3's? I have no idea if my computer will play them, but I'm pretty sure my home stereo is so damned old that it won't play them.

&lt;strong&gt;10. What's your favorite color? Or--do you have a color family/season/palette you prefer? Any colors you just can't stand?&lt;/strong&gt; I love greens and blues, but my absolutely favorite color is black, for some reason. I prefer autumn tones, oranges and yellows and greens in my clothing selections. (I wonder why...red hair, pale skin...freckles....)Also, cannot stand pink. I own pink stuff, sure, but I feel like a frilly girly girl when I wear it and feel obligated to act out when I do, and have felt this way since I was teeny. It made church fun when my mom dressed me in pink frilly dresses. ;-)

&lt;strong&gt;11. What is your family situation? Do you have any pets?&lt;/strong&gt; I have a 5 year old son (MHP) and a 26 year old female roommate living in my house, along with a pug puppy named Goliath and a cat named Noelle.  The cat belongs to my roommate and has an attitude problem. I also have a boyfriend (TB), who does not live in my house. I don't know if he qualifies as a pet or not.

&lt;strong&gt;12. What are your life dreams? &lt;/strong&gt;I want to live on a farm with horses and llamas and alpacas and pigs and chickens and dogs and belong to the Red Cross and volunteer and knit all day long. And travel a lot, to places like Las Vegas.  And Paris.  And Italy.  And have children (be they my children or grandkids) running crazy everywhere and be able to bake pies and dinners and have people over all the time.

&lt;strong&gt;13. What is/are your favorite yarn/s to knit with?&lt;/strong&gt; - I love llama or alpaca blend yarns - I just worked with a silk/alpaca blend that was AWESOME. I also like Schaefer yarns, for their colors and the names (named after famous women) and for their fiber choices.

&lt;strong&gt;14. What fibers do you absolutely *not* like?&lt;/strong&gt; Anything scratchy or eyelash-y or plastic-feeling. I cannot honestly STAND squeaky acrylic.

&lt;strong&gt;15. What is/are your current knitting obsession/s?&lt;/strong&gt; Rogue and socks. I am completely obsessed.  I'm also waiting until the next payday to buy the yarnage for my corset pattern.  I WILL HAVE IT DONE BY SPRING.

&lt;strong&gt;16. What is/are your favorite item/s to knit?&lt;/strong&gt; I haven't (to be completely honest here) &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;completed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; anything more complicated than a scarf. No, that's not true, I knit my mom some hand warmer crazy things and a pair of socks, but mostly sweaters in pieces and an afghan for a friend for her birthday, and some felted handbags and...well, maybe I did knit more than scarves. :)I like knitting complicated patterns!  I just don't like finishing them.

&lt;strong&gt;17. What are you knitting right now?&lt;/strong&gt; Jesus...um...right now, I'm not knitting anything because I'm at work and trying to look busy. But altogether, I have way more UFOs than I'd like to admit. Like I think there are about 20 unfinished projects hiding in various nooks and crannies in my house.

&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;I have:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 clapotis 1/2 finished
1 Rogue knit up to the armholes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 Tiger's Eye sock, finishing the cuff (knit toe-up, scary stuff.)
1 poor Pacific Northwest Shawl, waiting for me to be patient enough to pin it out and block it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 finished diamond patterned bootie from "50 baby booties" waiting for its mate &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 sweater started for MHP two summers ago that is only knit to the armpits and then I lost steam and got frustrated and gave up and it will probably not fit him anymore anyway... &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the original afghan that I learned to knit on&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A hat I am trying to knit for TB before it gets too warm to wear hats&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;
Ok, that is depressing because I KNOW there are other UFOs in my house that I'm not owning up to, and that's entirely too many as it is.

&lt;strong&gt;18. What do you think about ponchos?&lt;/strong&gt; I harbor no ill will towards ponchos. I am, however, not currently a poncho owner. This is because I look like a fat Christmas tree when I wear them.

&lt;strong&gt;19. Do you prefer straight or circular needles?&lt;/strong&gt; I like circulars - they can do pretty much anything.

&lt;strong&gt;20. Bamboo, aluminum, plastic?&lt;/strong&gt; Does anyone else feel like they're at some sort of weird grocery store checkout line when they hear this? I like bamboo, but I am not exclusive. I am a needle whore.  I don't like plastic straights.  I snap them in half, because I'm such a violent crazy knitter.

&lt;strong&gt;21. Are you a sock knitter?&lt;/strong&gt; Hell yes. I do, however, suffer greatly from SSS if the sock pattern is boring. I've been known to knit an entire sock, hate it, and frog it.

&lt;strong&gt;22. How did you learn to knit?&lt;/strong&gt; I read a book. (Stitch n Bitch, after some random afghan book that was confusing and stupid) I'm weird, I know, but that's how I've learned to do everything but knit in the round. For some reason, I had to take a class to learn how to do that.

&lt;strong&gt;23. How old is your oldest UFO?&lt;/strong&gt; I plead the fifth. But do the math and read the questions, and "about 3 years" is what you'll come up with. I'm driven to go home at lunch and frog it just so I know it's not there anymore.

&lt;strong&gt;24. What is your favorite animated character or a favorite animal/bird?&lt;/strong&gt; I love the Family Guy's Stewie. Football-headed baby with a stellar IQ hell-bent on destroying his mother and taking over the world. Does no one notice the kid speaks in FULL SENTENCES??

I also love Foamy, from &lt;a href="http://www.illwillpress.com"&gt;Ill Will Press&lt;/a&gt;. Crack me up.

&lt;strong&gt;25. What is your favorite holiday?&lt;/strong&gt; I love Halloween and Thanksgiving. Dressing up in costumes and feeding people are my two favorite holiday activities.

&lt;strong&gt;26. Is there anything that you collect?&lt;/strong&gt; Shot glasses.  I love shot glasses from ANYWHERE.  Even some podunk bar in the middle of nowhere.  I also collect vintage Las Vegas stuff (ashtrays, figurines, posters, etc) anything Marilyn Monroe or Elvis (within reason, I'm not a big fan of Elvis TP or things of that nature) and I'm sure there's something else in there, but I just can't remember. OH! Old souvenir plates from the United States (i.e. I bought one from Nebraska that had little cartoons of covered wagons and corn fields and things of that sort.)

&lt;strong&gt;27. What knitting magazine subscriptions do you have?&lt;/strong&gt; I try not to subscribe - if I don't like a particular issue, I won't buy it.

&lt;strong&gt;28. Any books out there you are dying to get your hands on?&lt;/strong&gt; Anything with Celtic patterns or a sock book. (I have Knitting on the Road)

&lt;strong&gt;29. Any patterns you have been coveting, but haven't bought for one reason or another??&lt;/strong&gt; Nope - I think I'm good on that side. I do like sock patterns though - have I said that already?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113693014491701464?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113693014491701464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113693014491701464' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113693014491701464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113693014491701464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/for-my-new-secret-pal.html' title='For my new Secret Pal'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113683528479167710</id><published>2006-01-09T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T11:34:44.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ow.  And oops.  And THANK GOD I'M HOME</title><content type='html'>I was in Vegas for entirely too long. I just am glad to be home. When I get more settled in (and get TB to upload some pictures), I'll give a more thorough run-down of what-all happened. HOWEVER, because I love each and every one of you, here are some highlights to tide you over:

&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spent so much time valet parking the rental car at my hotel, that they all knew me by name and kept my car at the curb for an easy getaway.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spent so much time valet parking the rental car at my hotel, that when I collapsed at the hotel on Saturday night, one of the valet guys drove me to the hospital and stayed with me until I was released. (BIG tip for that guy.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Got to see Maroon 5, Yellowcard, and the Killers. Don't remember much of any of the concerts...in fact, someone else told me that I saw the Killers. I don't remember being there at all.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I do, however, remember having to get up the next morning and drive at 7:15am. That sucked.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Got to see a bunch of dorky stuff (I love dorky stuff) and went to see "Hostel". (I know, I'm in Vegas, where there are bazillions of fabulous shows, and I go see a movie. I'm a cheapskate, what can I say?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Went to the AVN convention. If you want to know what that is, GOOGLE it. :) A lady never tells. (Not that I'm a lady...)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm SO GLAD I'M HOME!!! Actually, I'm back at work, trying to dig myself out from under 800+ unread emails, all of which are asking me to do something. Stupid emails.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just got home this morning, and headed straight back to the office. Am I sick? Yes. In oh, somany ways.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/Tat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Tat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, and here's the tattoo...enjoy :)  Bonus points if you can tell me where this is...and WHAT it is.  (I think it's obvious, but that's probably because it's mine and I love it.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And no, I'm not an alien.  I took that pic with my camera phone and it makes me look like a little green martian.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113683528479167710?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113683528479167710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113683528479167710' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113683528479167710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113683528479167710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/ow-and-oops-and-thank-god-im-home.html' title='Ow.  And oops.  And THANK GOD I&apos;M HOME'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113657456950167418</id><published>2006-01-06T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T11:14:08.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hear that sound?</title><content type='html'>Can you hear that all the way in whereveryoumaybe? That high-pitched whining noise? No, not the copier at the Kinko's I'm sitting in, the other noise. Yeah, that. That's my liver crying.

I don't like working in Vegas. I like BEING in Vegas (for short periods of time) but I DO NOT like working here. It's like having a kid sit still at a playground and watch the other kids play. IT SUCKS.

So they ("they" being my boss et al) felt bad for me, and invited me out to some big concert and drunkenness party last night at the Joint at the Hard Rock. Yellowcard and Maroon 5 played - pretty fun times. However, my liver was a party pooper and we had a SERIOUS argument this morning, in which my liver roped my stomach into the conversation, and made her sick. She's a sensitive soul, that stomach.

Wish me luck. I have 3 full days of this crap left...OH MY GOD!! I totally forgot to tell you guys that I got another tattoo on Wednesday!  I went to Hart &amp; Huntington at the Palms (the one where they shoot the "Inked" show for A&amp;amp;E...and no, I wasn't filmed.) and made the decision and went for it.

I can't upload the picture from this computer, but when I get back to my hotel room I'll post it :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113657456950167418?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113657456950167418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113657456950167418' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113657456950167418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113657456950167418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/hear-that-sound.html' title='Hear that sound?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113636818887642357</id><published>2006-01-04T01:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T01:49:48.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude.  Again.</title><content type='html'>OK.  So here I am sitting in my hotel room and checking my email, and what do I find?  A lovely comment from Anonymous. 

Hey Anonymous.  Just a quick note - I do not have a trucker's mouth, I LOVE the fact that you're dirty, and please don't ever leave any more comments on my blog ever again.  You excite me too much apparently.

So...um...I'm in Vegas.  I'm a teensy bit sick, and can't eat much, which is sad, since it's Vegas.  And they have good food here.  I'm in LOVE with my rental car and I'm thinking about adopting it and taking it home and giving it a loverly parking spot in front of my apartment.  It's an Expedition. And it's PURDY.  And it's CLEAN and I'm only the SECOND PERSON to rent it.

I'm sorry, I'm a wee bit wacked out on the car and the Vegas and the fact I get to go see Avenue Q on Thursday.  WOOOO!

Alrighty kids,  that's all for today.  It's time for bed. I've got to be up in like 5 hours and I still have to take a shower to get the airplane funk out of my hair.

Please send me some good karma - the VP is in town, and I had to drive him around and it kind of scared him, since I babble when I'm nervous and almost got in 2 different accidents on the way from the airport to his hotel.  Then I took him to the wrong damn hotel.  Apparently, the Aladdin and the Paris are 2 different hotels. Did you know that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113636818887642357?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113636818887642357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113636818887642357' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113636818887642357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113636818887642357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2006/01/dude-again.html' title='Dude.  Again.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113608187443731232</id><published>2005-12-31T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T18:17:54.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Off to Vegas!!</title><content type='html'>So HAPPY NEW YEAR to all y'all, it's been a real slice.  I hope each of you get to open the new year with a kiss, a nice drink, or a good comfy something or other.

I'll be sitting in a hot tub, apparently. But we'll not talk about that right now.

We'll talk about the insanity that I have apparently adopted in order to deal with the Vegas trip.  Unfortunately, it won't be half as fun as the last one was (no 11am wake-up calls, no drinking all day long, no random people following me around...) but at least I don't have to pay for this one.

I will be taking some knitting with me, so we'll see what happens...no knitting atall was done last time.

Oh, and HUGE KNITTING NEWS - I finished the Neverending Story Shawl!  WOOOO!!!  I'll post pictures in a couple of days, if I get some downtime.  (I'm buying myself a digital camera tomorrow!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113608187443731232?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113608187443731232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113608187443731232' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113608187443731232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113608187443731232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/off-to-vegas.html' title='Off to Vegas!!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113571154764675465</id><published>2005-12-27T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T11:25:47.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Glad I didn't get arrested for Christmas...</title><content type='html'>OK, so we've already established that I do not like Christmas. 

I would like to provide evidence of how I truly believe that Christmas is out to get me, or that Santa is punishing me instead of putting coal in my sock.  These are all true stories, and

&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Had to go to the mall 3 times on Christmas Eve.  And 4 times on the day before Christmas Eve. I apparently don't know how to plan ahead.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Got into a tussle with a woman at the grocery store, also on Christmas Eve.  I was there buying my 12 pack of Henry's (best beer I could find), my ham and potatoes and my magnum of Champagne (I plan ahead for drinking holidays, like New Year's) and standing &lt;strong&gt;THISCLOSE&lt;/strong&gt; to the woman in line in front of me for the checkout.  Some lady with REAL big hair and an attitude about 9 miles wide was apparently in a hurry, and slid right in front of me in line.  When I politely informed her that the end of the line was &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BACK THERE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, she said "Well, it's not my fault; you didn't look like you were standing in line."  And that's when I lost what little composure I had left and chucked my little grocery basket onto the conveyor belt thingy and threw up my hands, and hollered at the top of my lungs &lt;strong&gt;"HOW EXACTLY DOES ONE LOOK WHILE ONE IS STANDING IN LINE????!?!??!!?"&lt;/strong&gt;  Funny thing, she didn't back down, until I started in on how I hate Christmas and how people like her make it miserable for those of us trying to maintain a desperate hold on our sanity during the holidays and how more people need to stand up for themselves instead of allowing people like her to walk all over them.  Then she went and cut in front of someone else.  Who let her.  &lt;strong&gt;*sigh*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Went to the likker store right after the grocery store, as apparently, I believed the beer would not properly sedate me for the BIG DAY.  Bad idea.  There are exactly 8 parking spaces in front of my local likker store. (for those of you in California, and other fabulous states where you can buy likker at the grocery store, here in rainy WA, the state controls the likker.  Dammit.)  There were 15 cars crammed into the parking lot waiting for spaces with about 20 others waiting on the street to turn in and park there too.  So I parked on the street and walked over.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;As I was walking into the likker store, I heard a "PSST!!" from the bushes.  Some 12 year olds were hiding in the bushes and wanted me to buy them likker.  I politely refused, told them to go home to their mommies and entered the store.  Apparently, while I was outside, someone saw me and told the cashiers I was buying likker for the 12 year olds and therefore, I was refused service.  THEY REFUSED TO SELL ME LIKKER, PEOPLES!!!  I was buying Chambord, Starbuck's Coffee Likkeur, Bailey's and Absolut Vanilla.  Last time I checked, 12 year olds like to puke their guts out on Monarch, which doesn't cost $30 a bottle.  Just sayin'.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Unfortunately, by the time I got through the 30 minute wait for the checker, &lt;strong&gt;that's&lt;/strong&gt; when they told me I couldn't buy likker.  I tried to argue.  No dice.  So I drive to the other likker store (took 30 minutes for a 10 minute drive) and by the time I get there, the damned thing is closed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I went to a Christmas Eve "carol sing" with my parents.  They neglected to tell me I needed to dress up, so when I arrived wearing sweats, I looked a little out of place.  The parental units also tricked me, as it was actually a sermon.  I fell asleep.  And snored.  I was promptly asked to leave.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The puppy was acting crazy on Christmas Eve and eating the tree and opening presents that weren't for him and chasing the cat and biting at MHP and TB, and so I had to finally put him in his crate.  Which he did not appreciate.  Atall.  Which he exclaimed vocally, but not until 3am.  And would not stop. So I had to get up at 3am and take the dog out, after which, he wanted to play.  So I play, then fall asleep on the couch with the puppy.  I wake up to MHP standing in front of me with opened presents.  Shoot.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got exactly 2 presents for Christmas.  I'm not complaining, the last thing I need in this life is more crap to junk it up.  But I got 2 presents.  And none of them were from my family.  Jackasses got a COMPUTER from me for Christmas.  (Sorry, I'm ranting again.  At least I didn't try to drown them in eggnog.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The only thing I had to eat atall on Christmas was bacon &amp; eggs for breakfast, FunYuns and Coke for lunch, and a piece of eggnog cheesecake for dinner.  Power was out at my parents house (with nothing cooked for lunch) and the food was gone by the time we reached TB's house, because we stayed too long at my parents'.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to go renew my drivers' license now...be back next week.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I joke - it shouldn't take me THAT long, but I have to get one, since mine has been expired for a loooong time (which we're not talking about right now) and I need one to go to Vegas next week, since I'll be driving my boss and everybody around all week.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;SO!! If any of you fun people will be in Vegas next week, I will be there from the 3rd to the 8th.  Just ping me and we'll go have a drink, since I do have wheels. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113571154764675465?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113571154764675465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113571154764675465' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113571154764675465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113571154764675465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/glad-i-didnt-get-arrested-for.html' title='Glad I didn&apos;t get arrested for Christmas...'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113519357237456298</id><published>2005-12-21T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T15:14:09.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas and f**k off.</title><content type='html'>OK, so I know I'm posting like 2 times in one hour, but I have to say this.

Please. FTLOG (for the love of God) PLEASE. If you work with me, or will have any contact with me today, adhere to the following suggestions when dealing with me for the remainder of the day:
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do not expect me to be merry and bright this holiday season. I will not sing Christmas carols in the halls, and I will not kiss you under the mistletoe you hung in the halls. I think that's actually an HR violation, and I'm going to go tell on you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do not try and engage me in a conversation/therapy session in the halls at work about &lt;a href="http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/09/100-almost-things-about-me.html"&gt;why I hate Christmas&lt;/a&gt; (see #11), it will only ruin your Christmas too, and I only like to be responsible for my own misery.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do not tell me about the great expensive car you just bought your 16-year-old daughter for Christmas. Congratulations, you now have exceeded the money-to-sense ratio. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a cranky Grinchy bitch. Please do not expect me to be all happy for you and your engagement/baby/happy news. I don't like anyone today.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Please bring me eggnog with brandy. OR rum. Or skip the eggnog altogether, and just bring me alcohol. Much thanks.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No more paper. We work in a "paperless" society, yet I have reams of it scattered about my workspace like some mass grave for trees. No more.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am leaving at 4pm today. I have informed all coworker people (those I have talked to/emailed/run into in the halls in the past 6 months) of this at least 7 times over the past week. This means you will not be coming to my office at 3:55 wanting me to approve an expense report, check on a shipment or book conference rooms for you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;As far as work is concerned, I'm long gone home. Please plan accordingly, as my brain is already on vacation and my mouth does not operate well on its own.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Much love and kisses to all of you out there in BlogLand - none of this applies to you. If you want to come to my office at 3:55 and ask me questions, I would be more than happy to help you all :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just not at the same time. And bring likker.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;3:05 PM - UPDATE:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  I just went ballistic on my boss.  He's supposed to be at &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;home&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, having a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;vacation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, and instead he's here, bothering me.  I told him to stop what he was doing and go home.  He was highly amused, and thought I was kidding.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Also, if you come to me 45 minutes before I will be hitting the door to go &lt;strong&gt;HOME&lt;/strong&gt; for the &lt;strong&gt;HOLIDAYS&lt;/strong&gt; which I &lt;strong&gt;HATE&lt;/strong&gt; and tell me the project I just busted my ass to complete for you &lt;strong&gt;ON&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;TIME&lt;/strong&gt; and gave up &lt;strong&gt;10&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;HOURS&lt;/strong&gt; of my &lt;strong&gt;WEEKEND&lt;/strong&gt; to finish &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TWO&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;DAYS&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;AGO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; is &lt;strong&gt;WRONG&lt;/strong&gt; and I need to re-do it &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RIGHT&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;NOW&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;/em&gt; I will have to hurt you.  A lot.  Preferably by throwing this nasty ass peanut brittle you gave me at your pointy little head.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;**I will return to normal after NYE.  In this time, unless I have something bright and sunshiney to say, I will spare you the "drown my boss in eggnog" posts and not post atall.  Unless it's really funny, and then of course I have to share :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113519357237456298?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113519357237456298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113519357237456298' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113519357237456298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113519357237456298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/merry-christmas-and-fk-off.html' title='Merry Christmas and f**k off.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113519173216426716</id><published>2005-12-21T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T11:02:12.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're a big rotten tomato, with mouldy purple spots..</title><content type='html'>....Ms. Grii-INCH!

I'm starting to hate Christmas again.  I knit last night like my fingers were on fire, and still only finished one thing.  Out of 12 I have to finish before Saturday.

My head hurts.

The dog is fine, thanks for your concern, everybody.  Now if I could just get him to not bite when he's playing, that would be helpful.

Merry Christmas everyone, hope your knitting and shopping expeditions are over, and you can enjoy the season.  Think of me when you drink your eggnog/hot buttered rum/straight Jack Daniels from a flask, will you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113519173216426716?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113519173216426716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113519173216426716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113519173216426716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113519173216426716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/youre-big-rotten-tomato-with-mouldy.html' title='You&apos;re a big rotten tomato, with mouldy purple spots..'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113503137313814693</id><published>2005-12-19T13:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T14:29:33.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do me a favor and shoot me now...</title><content type='html'>It's not even Christmas quite yet, and my hands are screaming from the amount of knitting I've been doing, and my bank account is close to drained. 

I have very little to say today, as far as wittiness goes.  I'll just give you the top 10 things giving me an ulcer for Christmas:
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I went to our Christmas party on Saturday.  I plead the fifth on what I was wearing (whore-wear for teens, apparently), what I did (tried to dance with the VP), and how much I drank (the hours of 10pm Saturday to 5am Sunday are all a little hazy for me.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Goliath spent Sunday morning (at 5am) to just an hour or so ago at the vet's office.  Apparently, he thought the medication for my parents' dog looks good, and ate it.  Not good for Christmas present money.  "Thank you for fixing my dog, you want &lt;strong&gt;how&lt;/strong&gt; much money??"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have exactly 4 Christmas presents either finished, or purchased.  This will not endear me to my family, who are present-mongering whores.  (Incidentally, my parents' present this year is that I will not force them to pay any of the vet bill, since it was their fault and they haven't offered to pay for it anyway.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have not taken MHP to see Santa.  He is concerned Santa will not have enough time to order his presents online.  My mom stock is falling right now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My roommate is concerned about my mental health.  I start sentences and either get distracted, or fall asleep in the middle of them.  This is either highly entertaining, or extremely disconcerting for her, seeing as how she is OCD and likes to finish what she starts.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I still have not unpacked from the Tahoe trip.  I think I am still trying to detox.  I trip over my suitcase every morning.  Goliath thinks it's hilarious and hides inside of it.  I'm just waiting to see if he's peed in there.  Ugh.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Regarding #6, I have not done laundry since I got back.  If you could see what I'm wearing today, this is VERY OBVIOUS.  I am either colourblind or dysfunctional. Or both. That's entirely possible. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My room has been proclaimed a national disaster.  President Bush is sending out the National Guard to help dig survivors out of the rubble and provide disaster services and shelter for those affected.  I may never wear underwear again, as I can't find any.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've just been informed that I am flying out to Las Vegas for 5 days to play "chauffeur" for my group while they are there for a big conference.  In 1 1/2 weeks.  I'm still recovering from Tahoe (see #6).  I am excited to go back to Vegas, notsomuch excited about the driving part.  They will probably regret asking me to do this.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a train wreck.  My hair is everywhere, I smell like dog and dirty socks, and I wish I could sleep for more than 1 hour at a time, without waking in a dead panic because I'm sure I've forgotten something.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;(I know, I said 10, but this is important) My boss asked me this morning what kind of makeup I use to cover the green.  I had to ask for clarification, and he told me that I'm a Grinch and that I need to stop grumbling every time someone mentions Christmas, or Christmas presents.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Speaking of presents, THANKS &lt;a href="http://golden-state.blogspot.com"&gt;KENDRA&lt;/a&gt;! :)  (And Pickles, and boy too!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;AND HI SHANNON!!!  Wait till you see your present :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113503137313814693?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113503137313814693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113503137313814693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113503137313814693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113503137313814693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/do-me-favor-and-shoot-me-now.html' title='Do me a favor and shoot me now...'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113466800578253676</id><published>2005-12-15T09:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-15T09:33:25.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Didja miss me?</title><content type='html'>So I'm still on my trip - in Lake Tahoe thankyouverymuch. 

The wireless is a little spotty and I'm currently sitting under a table full of food because that seems to be the only reliable place to get internets.  Plus, my computer doesn't play well with other wireless networks apparently and won't let me even log on to it, so I've absconded with someone else's laptop and I'm trying to type as fast as humanly possible before said laptop's owner realizes I'm gone :D

ANYWAY - so it's been mostly work for me here; I talked to my boss and he said to put in for 13 hours of work (I'm an hourly employee), even though I spent 4 1/2 hours at the spa yesterday.

I don't really understand sales groups atall (that's who I work for), but they like to party like no other.  I've never seen that many grown men behaving like 12 year olds, and been so embarassed to be associated with them that I actually left a &lt;strong&gt;really&lt;/strong&gt; fun party.  I mean seriously, do they really think that if they take off their wedding rings that their co-workers forget they're married?

JESUS!!

Oh, and I may or may not have done something so bad that I am ashamed to hang out with myself, but I cannot tell any of you unless you email me and then I'll only tell you for shock value because it's really that bad.

Sorry this is so short, but I hear footsteps and this table smells like sausage and scrambled eggs.  God, I have no dignity.

Oh, and Egan, (who I would link to if I was at home and could find his damned website) this is the first post since Monday, I swear!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113466800578253676?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113466800578253676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113466800578253676' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113466800578253676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113466800578253676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/didja-miss-me.html' title='Didja miss me?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113418036453676572</id><published>2005-12-09T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T18:06:04.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God, please stop listening to my boss.</title><content type='html'>Apparently, when my boss prayed (to whatever heathen god the man worships) for a worker bee, he got me.

Then he prayed that I would be happy in my job.  And I was.

Then apparently, he prayed that paper-spewing monsters would attack my office mercilessly, scattering useless and useful documents everywhere.  And my office erupted in papers of all kinds

In addition, he prayed that fire hot pokers would be directed into my brain, causing a major meltdown every time I tried to do more than one thing.

And today, his prayers were answered.  My brain exploded.

Time of death?  1:15pm today.

Will blog more when I find the remains and re-set.  Also, I have my first ever business trip next week, and I am no longer excited about it, even though I get to go to the spa while I'm there.

I need a nap.  Cocktail anyone? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113418036453676572?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113418036453676572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113418036453676572' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113418036453676572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113418036453676572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/god-please-stop-listening-to-my-boss.html' title='God, please stop listening to my boss.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113400221260350921</id><published>2005-12-07T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-07T16:36:52.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lame-Ass.  Right here.</title><content type='html'>Sorry - haven't been very scintillating lately.  I've been obsessing over &lt;a href="http://myspace.com/thecarver"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;.

If you haven't seen Nip/Tuck lately, (or at all....run thee to &lt;a href="http://www.netflix.com"&gt;Netflix &lt;/a&gt;to rent the first season.  And the 2nd.  RIGHT NOW!!) you should.  It's super-neato-awesome.

Oh, and I'm still knitting...while I watch Nip/Tuck :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113400221260350921?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113400221260350921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113400221260350921' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113400221260350921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113400221260350921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/lame-ass-right-here.html' title='Lame-Ass.  Right here.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113390575826501220</id><published>2005-12-06T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T13:49:18.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GOD!  I am so bored.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I wonder if HE is listening.  It IS the Christmas season, and I actually went to church the other day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;God - if you read this blog, could I please have you help me out with a few issues?  Here are a few suggestion:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Could you please send me a car?  Preferably one that does not require a severe engine overhaul, or involve me climbing through the slider door to get to the driver's seat because my superhuman strength pulled the outside door handle plumb off the car.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Please PLEASE potty train my dog.  I know you are a super-awesome omnipotent being, and really don't have time to deal with my petty junk, but enough is enough.  Stop laughing.  I did not enjoy being covered in dog feces after emerging from my shower this morning.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Send MHP some friends.  He's having a bit of a rough time, and could use someone that speaks 5-almost-6-in-one-week language.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go Christmas shopping with TB.  Or send one of your archangels (preferably a man) to help him.  He needs lots of help.  Send two angels.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Please talk to the head honcho bossman here about installing a Xanax vending machine in the kitchenette.  It would boost productivity amongst the admins (at least) and is much better than the junk food in there now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Slow time down.  I would be much appreciative if you could add an extra 6 hours to every day between now and Christmas.  That way, I could finish all of the knitting I have to do, volunteer a little bit, play with the dog, and still have time to read to MHP and listen to his day without yelling or throwing tantrums.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Please eliminate hunger, poverty and abused animals.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's it.  :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113390575826501220?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113390575826501220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113390575826501220' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113390575826501220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113390575826501220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/god-i-am-so-bored.html' title='GOD!  I am so bored.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113356754869504031</id><published>2005-12-02T15:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T16:57:03.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Map This, Peoples.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.frappr.com/hotrodlibbyloo"&gt;&lt;img title="Check out our Frappr!" alt="Check out our Frappr!" src="http://www.frappr.com/i/frapper_sticker.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;

Alrighty kiddos, and lurkers, and people who randomly came here, thinking this was a non-participation thing...I would like to know where you all are. Please and thank you.

Click on that thingy up there and let's see how many people we can fit on there, shall we? :)

PS - &lt;a href="http://anonymouscoworker.com"&gt;ACW&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://imakite.blogspot.com"&gt;Christina&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://houndhollow.typepad.com/pinkpurlgrrl/"&gt;Elaine &lt;/a&gt;(HI BLING!), and my Secret Pal Girlie are all excused from this activity. They've turned in their homework.

Oh, and a really random side note, I walk by the head honcho bossman's office all the time. Not usually a noteworthy activity at all, but today, I walk past his office and he's got a conference call on speakerphone. He's gesturing wildly whilst pacing back and forth (like normal) but this time, he's flipping the bird and mouthing obscenities at the phone.

Must be a bad day all around.

Um, and for more Random (because, apparently, I missed RANDOM THOUGHT THURSDAY, what with the snow and everything) someone just rolled a cart past my office filled with likker and stopped to ask me if I wanted a shot of vodka or a glass of wine.

I apparently work in the biggest airplane ever.  Or at the best job on the planet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113356754869504031?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113356754869504031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113356754869504031' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113356754869504031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113356754869504031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/map-this-peoples.html' title='Map This, Peoples.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113355457851124292</id><published>2005-12-02T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T12:16:18.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Libby: Brave Girl and Driver Extraordinaire</title><content type='html'>Apparently, I am the bestest driver in the whole wide world, for venturing out in the super scary snow last night.


&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/07-25-05%20148.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Seeing as how this is my mode of transportation, and what with its tires not being studded and not having 4 wheel drive...I don't see how that's possible.

HOWEVER! I did gallavant (accident free!!) acrost my fair city (or actually, 2 cities) to go to my mother's place of business (AKA Starbucks..) for some "holiday night". It involved free coffee. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't know why I went. I think I was bored, MHP wanted to do something other than sit at home and our house is COLD AS HELL. Oh, and did I mention the free coffee? I was bribed.

Anyway, when I arrived, I was promptly forced (by my fakely cheery mother...we'll get into THAT some other time) to sit (IN PUBLIC, no less) with some poor barista (who was cajoled into bringing his guitar) and sing Christmas carols. IN the Starbucks.

I thought I was going to be stoned to death by my fellow Starbucks patrons for saying "jesus" or "god" and not in a swearing way. But no, this is what I got instead:

&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Badgerbadgerbadger.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt; It's a wolverine (the mascot for the local high school). I TOTALLY thought it was a badger, and I so wanted to do the &lt;a href="http://www.badgerbadgerbadger.com/"&gt;badgerbadgerbadger&lt;/a&gt; dance, but I was already overly embarassed by the carols, and all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Badger Friday!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113355457851124292?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113355457851124292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113355457851124292' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113355457851124292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113355457851124292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/libby-brave-girl-and-driver.html' title='Libby: Brave Girl and Driver Extraordinaire'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113348342112958259</id><published>2005-12-01T16:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T16:30:21.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The sky is falling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://komotv4.com/stories/40540.htm"&gt;Chicken Little anyone?&lt;/a&gt;

People are freaking out over here. I work at a fairly big corporation (read: giant mogul of our field) and I work in a building that holds about a thousand people at any given time.

I just walked down the hall, and saw exactly 1 person. It seems as though, at 2pm today, everyone who lives more than 2 miles from this place has jumped ship.  (I've been rearranging meetings and covering for people and running around like a crazy person.  IT'S SNOW!! IT WILL MELT EVENTUALLY!!)

And when I say "jumped ship", I mean drive erratically through the streets while calling everyone they know ON THEIR CELL PHONE (don't get me started on cell phones and drivers..) to make sure they haven't perished in this insane snowstorm.

God forbid anything BIG should hit our area (meaning more than a half inch of melting snow)...
&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/snow%204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/snow%204.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;---The view from my building.

The roads are mushy, but not deathly treacherous. Wait until the sun goes down - I'm going to be STUCK IN THIS PLACE FOR THE REST OF TIME! AND I ....oh, sorry. The hysteria apparently is contagious. 

I'm off to buy Presto Logs and toilet paper...just in case :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113348342112958259?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113348342112958259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113348342112958259' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113348342112958259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113348342112958259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/sky-is-falling.html' title='The sky is falling!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113347272208771950</id><published>2005-12-01T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T13:32:02.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OH MY GOD THEY WERE RIGHT!!</title><content type='html'>I'm floored. Absolutely, wetting my pants, surprised as all hell. I was watching the local news last night, and when they mentioned that we were in for a big storm around mid-day today, I knew instantly (or at least I thought I did) that we were going to have some crazy abnormal totally-non-snowing weather. Like normal.

The newscasts always have some insane "STORM WATCH 2005" graphics and intense music when the metorologists announce we'll have snow, and then we never do. So I don't believe them anymore.

But guess what? I was wrong. They were right. Check this sh*t out:

&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/SNOW%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/SNOW%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know all of you East-Coasters and those who actually have seen snow before are not that impressed, but here in the Seattle area, this equates to a blizzard of epic proportions. People are freaking out. I just called a friend of mine who works at a local grocery store, and she says people have completely bought them out of all of their "Presto" fire logs, and propane.

&lt;strong&gt;PEOPLE OF THE GREATER SEATTLE AREA! I WOULD LIKE TO TELL YOU SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT! THIS SORT OF SNOW IS NOT A HARBINGER OF THE APOCALYPSE.&lt;/strong&gt;

Please, remain calm and try not to drive like a bunch of idiots.  I know you normally drive that way, but try to respect others' personal space and fear of snowy places, and DO NOT go crazy.

And leave some Presto Logs for the rest of us :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113347272208771950?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113347272208771950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113347272208771950' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113347272208771950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113347272208771950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/12/oh-my-god-they-were-right.html' title='OH MY GOD THEY WERE RIGHT!!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113337737160930781</id><published>2005-11-30T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T11:02:51.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I suck.  And not in a good way.</title><content type='html'>WARNING: I'm apparently in a large holiday-induced funk.  We're talking the King Kong of all temper tantrums.  Throwing myself on the floor, kicking and screaming and "I don't wanna" and everything.  If you don't want to listen to me complain, head on over &lt;a href="http://rabbitch.blogspot.com"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;or &lt;a href="http://nownormaknits2.typepad.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  They'll at least entertain you.

&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Issues?&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;After paying the majority of my bills with this month's paycheck, I have no idea if I'll be able to buy anyone nice Christmas presents.  I'm not even 100% sure I'll be able to throw a birthday party for MHP, since his birthday conveniently falls 10 days before Christmas.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I cannot handle the puppy.  I made a really bad decision.  I don't have a clue what to do with him during the day, and my mom won't watch him while I'm at work anymore, as she has been since we got him.  I am exhausted with trying to keep up with him and cleaning up after him and I just cannot take it anymore.  Plus, this was MHP's Christmas present, and he doesn't even like the dog.  TB will be broken-hearted if we get rid of the dog - he loves Goliath.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a mini-nervous-breakdown every time I see a Christmas Sale commercial on television.  I don't know how that's related to anything. but thought I would throw that in there.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My job is so stressful.  I just want to cry every time I come to work.  On the flip side, it's a break from the home stress.  I honestly think I'm developing a large ulcer from all of this.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't like to complain.  I really don't.  I'll get over most of this and move on soon.  Stay tuned for some actual knitting content.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113337737160930781?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113337737160930781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113337737160930781' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113337737160930781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113337737160930781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-suck-and-not-in-good-way.html' title='I suck.  And not in a good way.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113322714327592107</id><published>2005-11-28T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T17:45:18.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Turkey Stats and Blog Stats</title><content type='html'>For those of you that were interested, the 43 pound turkey started cooking at 5am on Thanksgiving.

The stuffing was added at 10am, and (per the cook's vernacular) "blew right out the assh*le" at about 2pm. (stuffing everywhere. Looked like a pileup on I-90, but inside the oven. And with stuffing, instead of cars.)

At 4pm, the basting and gravy-making started. (We were supposed to eat at 4pm.)

6pm, TB and MHP and I trek out in the pouring rain to MHP's gramma's, leaving my super-special potato dish in the cook's seemingly capable hands.

7pm - TB and I return to a frantic cook, turkey still nestled snug in the GIANT oven, 32 people crammed into their double-wide mobile home, and my potatoes completely raw on the table.

8pm - potatoes cooked, turkey sliced and served nicely - all is well in TurkeyLand.

9pm - I'm skipping pie when I realize I completely forgot to get a picture of this monstrous turkey for all of you. As &lt;a href="http://dogsstealyarn.com/archives/000435.html"&gt;Cari says though &lt;/a&gt;- we bloggers don't always remember to stop whatever fun we're having to take a picture to share.

I promise when Christmas comes around to try and get a picture of the almost-as-big turkey while it shares oven space with a rather sizeable ham. (Can you tell the host of these gatherings is a butcher? :)

OK, so I was checking my stats on &lt;a href="http://statcounter.com"&gt;StatCounter&lt;/a&gt;, and I just had to share these:
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am result #6 out of 4000 for the MSN search "&lt;strong&gt;Hot Rods Ireland&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am result #1 (MSN Search again) for "&lt;strong&gt;Satin Shirt Bell Selves&lt;/strong&gt;" (I think they may have misspelled "Sleeves".)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On Yahoo! search, I am #7 for "Trendsetter Safari".  (Remember the &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/1600/7-28-05%20050.jpg"&gt;Mariners' scarf&lt;/a&gt;?  No?  Well, my mom stole it, so it doesn't matter. :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And on a search I've NEVER HEARD OF, (search.com?) I come in 8th for "&lt;strong&gt;Libby AND my little AND Cate&lt;/strong&gt;".  What on earth could that person have been looking for?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Apparently, if I want more people to come here, I need to use "dirty girl" terms like &lt;a href="http://golden-state.blogspot.com"&gt;Miss Kendra&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;a href="http://rabbitch.blogspot.com"&gt;Assbucket &lt;/a&gt;anyone?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113322714327592107?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113322714327592107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113322714327592107' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113322714327592107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113322714327592107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/turkey-stats-and-blog-stats.html' title='Turkey Stats and Blog Stats'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113320445823702962</id><published>2005-11-28T10:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T11:00:58.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FO's and Giant Turkeys</title><content type='html'>Ok, so this weekend I was TOTALLY productive.  Not only am I on the right path for house training the puppy (only 2 accidents this weekend, and none of them at the boyfriend's house! WOO!!), but I finished 8 bintillion projects!

Well, maybe not that many, but I did finish 3 socks, one purse, one flower-shaped washcloth, and a pair of fuzzy feet.  See?  LOOK AT ME!! I'm PRODUCTIVE!!

Ok, so moving on to the big-ass turkeys.  There were quite a few at Thanksgiving this year:
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The turkey we actually ate. (or THEY ate, since I don't care for turkey and ate 4 different kinds of potatoes instead) It weighed 43 pounds.  That's right, my friends, that is the biggest f*cking turkey EVER.  Except for last year, when the f*cker weighed 54 pounds.  Looked like MHP had crawled into the oven.  A bit scary.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;TB.  TB is a giant turkey.  Especially when it comes to drinking and eating, apparently.  He decided to entertain everyone with a rousing drunken rendition of the &lt;a href="http://www.tvacres.com/adslogans_l.htm"&gt;Libby's brand jingle&lt;/a&gt;, "If it says Libby Libby Libby, on the label label label"...the host taught him that song at my first holiday with them.  It was great.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;TB's middle brother. He's just generally weird, but this time, he brought his girlfriend (read: f*ck buddy) who is 10 years older than him and a very weird woman.  I don't like her.  Probably because I don't think she's good enough for him, but whatev.  She spent the entire time making fun of me for getting a small dog, until TB hollered at her and told her to go home, that she wasn't welcome anymore.  I love family gatherings, don't you? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My family.  We (meaning me, TB, MHP and the pup) decided not to spend much time with my family on Turkey Day, since this is their holiday and they act like complete assholes.  So we went over for a quick brunch at 11. My father is passive aggressive, and forgot to cook the rolls and breakfast dish, so when my mother woke up at 11:30(she worked from 4am to 9am that morning), we were sitting around waiting for the food to cook.  She laid into my father, while my brother tried to sneak out of the house, and TB played on the floor with the dog and I tried to melt into the floor.  Happy motherf*cking Holidays from Libby's family! Woo!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Me.  For walking out on my parents' (not) loverly brunch to return to my house and bake my ass off, since I had forgotten to do so the evening before.  And for hollering at my mother and calling her immature and telling my father he was a passive aggressive asshole before pulling MHP, TB and Goliath out the door.  And for laughing hysterically when TB was singing the Libby jingle to me, because now he thinks I like it, when I was just laughing at how his mother looked horrified.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey for ruining my roommate's life by &lt;a href="http://www.idontlikeyouinthatway.com/2005/11/stick-fork-in-nick-and-jessica-please.html"&gt;FINALLY announcing their breakup&lt;/a&gt; (nobody was fooled, my lovelies.  You broke up a long time ago.  Can anyone say "Johnny Knoxville"?  Those boots were made for a lot more than walking, honey.).  I called her to break the news as soon as I heard, and she was SUPER upset.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's pretty much it - my arm is killing me, because I just got a flu shot (why?  I don't know.  Peer pressure) and I have an entire offsite trip to plan in 2 days to Tahoe (I've been stalling...I suck) and I am just generally exhausted since the puppy won't sleep at night, and I suck at getting up in the morning.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Totally off-topic, I have two questions: one, does anyone have any recommendations on digital cameras?  Preferably ones under $200?  I know y'all are getting SUPER sick of no pictures in my posts.  So am I.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And two, does anyone have any suggestions on herbs or other remedies (besides melatonin, that doesn't do it for me) that can help me wake up more refreshed?  I have to PRY my eyes open in the morning. Literally.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hope y'all are recovering nicely from your turkey hangovers!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113320445823702962?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113320445823702962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113320445823702962' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113320445823702962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113320445823702962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/fos-and-giant-turkeys.html' title='FO&apos;s and Giant Turkeys'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113278160618791819</id><published>2005-11-23T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T13:33:26.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Rampage</title><content type='html'>So, earlier this morning, I had my annual Holiday Nervous Breakdown. (heretofore referred to as the HNB) Earlier in the season than past years I admit; normally I have it about the 13th of December, when I realize MHP's birthday is a few days away and I've forgotten, amongst the revelry and drinking, that he probably should have a party.

Before anyone gets all crazy on me for forgetting MHP's birthday, it's not because I'm a bad mother. I just would forget my ass if it wasn't attached - even though it's quite sizeable and hard to miss. Plus, if it was AWOL, it would make sitting REALLY odd.

ANYWAY - so normally, after trying to make 8000 Christmas cards for people I don't have addresses for, or fabricating saltdough ornaments for everyone in my office, or trying to cobble together a cookbook from my grandmother's handwritten recipe cards, I will give up trying to finish anything, run (or speed, depending on where I was living at the time) to the nearest likker store (or grocery store, since they're separate entities here in Washington State, and depending on the time of day) and buy myself a whole lot of Christmas cheer.

Which lasts about a week, then I have to go get more to fortify myself through the holidays.

What makes this year any different? This:



&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Goliath2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And the fact that he pees in my house.  Doesn't make me the happiest girl in the world, but add that to MHP getting in trouble at school again and getting suspended (don't ask, it involves bodily functions on the playground that really belong in a bathroom) and the stupidty that invovled me planning to knit gifts for everyone on my list, and the insanity has struck this Grinch early this year.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bah.  Humbug.  I hate muthafuckin' Christmas.  (God will smite me for that, I'm sure.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wake me up when January's here.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113278160618791819?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113278160618791819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113278160618791819' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113278160618791819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113278160618791819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/holiday-rampage.html' title='Holiday Rampage'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113269039511794169</id><published>2005-11-22T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T12:13:15.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear God.</title><content type='html'>I try to be a nice person.  (Don't laugh Shannon, I said I &lt;strong&gt;TRY&lt;/strong&gt;) But sometimes, my patience runs out and all I can do, when people ask inane ridiculous questions is just stare at them.  I do, however, stop myself before getting to ask "What the F*CK?"

So today, apparently, is a WTF day. 4 hours of sleep and a puppy whining to play at 4am will do that to a girl.

A certain person who works with me and will remain unnamed came into my office.  I already have little patience for her.  She runs in the same vein with Mary Kay ladies (no offense, I used to be one), telemarketers and door-to-door solicitors.  Annoying, yet extraordinarily perky.

Said person who works with me (we'll call her Casper, as in "The Friendly Ghost) is trying to learn how to knit.  Now, I admire a woman who wants to knit, but when they approach it with an attitude like she did, I am not so fond. 

Her exact words when she found out I knit were: "But aren't old ladies the only ones who knit?"  Well, excuse the hell right out of me, Miss Manolos-with-my-camelhair-trenchcoat-who-took-4-hours-off-the-other-day-to-go-shopping.

So she comes into my office today to ask me about finishing a scarf.  She doesn't, however, ask me how to do it, she asks where she can buy a sewing needle appropriate for sewing up the end of the scarf.

Hold the phone there turbo...a sewing needle?

So I proceed to demonstrate, using pencils and an extra network cable I had in my office, how to properly cast off.  (I can be resourceful when I choose to...)  She was still confused. 

She still, after 20 minutes of explanation and diagrams and knitting with cables, does not understand.  The scarf may never be finished.

Oh, and the best part?  She's trying to knit scarves for her entire family.  You have to give her some credit - her cajones are HUGE for a girl.

&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE&lt;/strong&gt;: Dear god.  The girl just sent me a MEETING REQUEST through our Outlook email system to set up time to knit tomorrow.  She's adorable, but I'm afraid I'm going to get cavities from the sweetness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113269039511794169?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113269039511794169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113269039511794169' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113269039511794169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113269039511794169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/dear-god.html' title='Dear God.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113259617998472408</id><published>2005-11-21T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T10:03:00.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have Dog.  Must Nap.</title><content type='html'>Holy jeez, I feel like I just had a baby...of course, without the hospital stay and the pushing and the contractions and the changing of diapers, of course. 

But with the staying up all night because the baby slept all day and the little dude wanting to be held all the time and the toys everywhere and the angry cat.

It's great fun, and mass upheaval in my house right now.  Dog is wearing sweater.  Very cute.  Not so cute when he poops in the house because it's too cold outside for him to do so.

Making a quick change on the Puppies &amp; Purls KAL for those of you with big dogs (or who don't want to knit sweaters...a lab looks weird in a sweater, I agree):

&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;KNIT WHATEVER YOU WANT.  As long as it's for a dog.&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;
For those of you without a dog, but who would still like to join us, you have a couple of choices - I know your local Humane Society would LOVE you to knit them doggie beds for their pups awaiting homes...please, if you find it in your heart to do so, please donate your knitting to those well-deserving dogs.

Or, make friends with a person with a small dog.  Knit them a sweater :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113259617998472408?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113259617998472408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113259617998472408' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113259617998472408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113259617998472408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/have-dog-must-nap.html' title='Have Dog.  Must Nap.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113233827139888086</id><published>2005-11-18T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T10:24:31.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Man, you guys are awesome.</title><content type='html'>So &lt;a href="http://houndhollow.typepad.com/pinkpurlgrrl/"&gt;Elaine &lt;/a&gt;is a total rockstar. If you haven't been to her site, you should head over there right now - check out the bee socks she made Bling!

The bee socks are merely one reason she is super-awesome, check THIS out!!

&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 178px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 54px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="67" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/320/Pups%20N%20Purls.jpg" width="213" border="0" /&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Look!  It's a totally super-cute BUTTON!  For our Knit-Along!  WITH LITTLE TEENY GOLIATH DOGS ALL OVER IT!!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dang.  I need to calm down before I pass out.  If I'm out cold, how will I go pick up the pup in &lt;strong&gt;2 1/2 hours&lt;/strong&gt;?  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Too much excitement for one day, man.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK!  If you are joining our puppy sweater knitalong, and haven't already "signed up", you can either leave a comment below, or you can send me an email at hotrodlibbyloo AT yahoo DOT com. So far, I have &lt;a href="http://imakite.blogspot.com/"&gt;Christina &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://houndhollow.typepad.com/pinkpurlgrrl/"&gt;Elaine &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://golden-state.blogspot.com"&gt;Miss Kendra&lt;/a&gt;.  Anyone else?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go ahead and take the button, but PLEASE!  FOR MY JOB'S SAKE, save the button to your OWN COMPUTER.  I can't afford to get fired for bandwidth stealing, OK? Ok. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113233827139888086?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113233827139888086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113233827139888086' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113233827139888086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113233827139888086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/man-you-guys-are-awesome.html' title='Man, you guys are awesome.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113233859181560712</id><published>2005-11-18T09:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T10:29:51.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it wrong...</title><content type='html'>...to be happy that Britney looks like this now? (photo courtesy of &lt;a href="http://perezhilton.com"&gt;PerezHilton.com&lt;/a&gt;)


&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/400/zitneyspearsss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cuz if it's wrong, I really don't want to be right....
&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113233859181560712?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113233859181560712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113233859181560712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113233859181560712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113233859181560712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/is-it-wrong.html' title='Is it wrong...'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113226048701008997</id><published>2005-11-17T12:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T12:48:07.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversations in the Office #2</title><content type='html'>VS: I'm here, I had a little computer malfunction.

M: Want to hear something fun?

VS: Yes.

M: OK - apparently I am functionally retarded (which, in case you haven;t noticed, is my new fave saying) and I have magically made my entire computer into Japanese.

VS: LOL

M: Everything, all the directions, the headers on windows, everything is Japanese.

VS: HOW...HOW???

M: Or maybe it's Chinese, or Korean. I don't know.

VS: I can't stop laughing...

M: I downloaded a language pack onto my computer so I could print out the Chinese kanji or whatever they call it and now everything is Chhinese.
Which makes it really fun to try and figure out how to change it, because....

VS: LMFAO

M: the directions are now in Chinese.
      Or Korean.
      Or Japanese.
      I can't tell.

VS: Now I'm crying....laughing too hard....please stop...

M: So how am I supposed to fix it, when I speak Americanese, the help desk dude speaks Hindu and the guy I just got transferred to is having issues because....

VS: STOP IT!! Choking...

M: HE SPEAKS FUCKING FRENCH!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113226048701008997?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113226048701008997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113226048701008997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113226048701008997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113226048701008997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/conversations-in-office-2.html' title='Conversations in the Office #2'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113225862902828108</id><published>2005-11-17T12:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T12:18:22.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversations in the Office</title><content type='html'>I have a wee bit of time, so I thought I would post some very humorous IM conversations I have with Vegas Shannon, just to give you a small insight into what I do while I sit here at my desk every day.

&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; How many copies of that slide deck do you have left to print out?

&lt;strong&gt;Vegas Shannon:&lt;/strong&gt; Only 50 more copies of 22 page decks to go...$#%@%*#@&amp;amp;

&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; Hell yes! You are the copy QUEEN!!!

&lt;strong&gt;VS:&lt;/strong&gt; Aren't I though? I just like having Queen in my title, whatever it may be.

&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; Abso-friggin-lutely. Me, I'm the Duchess of Crap.

&lt;strong&gt;VS:&lt;/strong&gt; lol!! I guess it could be worse, you could be the court jester of crap...

&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; Well, maybe not of Crap, just of Messiness. I also happen to be the High Priestess of Losing Stuff.

&lt;strong&gt;VS:&lt;/strong&gt; That's not what you're supposed to do! I know stuff is here somewhere... I'm just not sure where... so TECHNICALLY it's not lost...

&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; Me too. My office is a friggin trash heap, and if one more person walks by my office and sneers at me, I'm going to bust my heel off in someone's tail pipe.

&lt;strong&gt;VS:&lt;/strong&gt; Please let me watch. People look at my office and go "Welcome to being an admin, this is nothing".

&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; Jebus H Bananas, I may cause pain here in a second. The VP has now walked by my office twice in the past 10 minutes. Not sure WHERE he's going, but he's supposed to be in India.

&lt;strong&gt;VS:&lt;/strong&gt; Huh?

&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; He looks lost.

&lt;strong&gt;VS:&lt;/strong&gt; ?

&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; If he's looking for his meeting, he's on the wrong continent...

&lt;strong&gt;VS:&lt;/strong&gt; I'm off to the copier! AGAIN!!

&lt;strong&gt;M:&lt;/strong&gt; I'm sort of tempted to ask him if he knows he's supposed to be in India?

&lt;strong&gt;VS:&lt;/strong&gt; I totally think you should. Who knows? He could commend you for being observant! Either that, or punish you for being a smartass. I say it's worth the risk...

I know, it's compelling. But it made me snort this morning, so there you go :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113225862902828108?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113225862902828108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113225862902828108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113225862902828108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113225862902828108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/conversations-in-office.html' title='Conversations in the Office'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113225388327969072</id><published>2005-11-17T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T11:36:53.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just stuff...</title><content type='html'>Knitting another doggie bed for Goliath, since he's coming home with us tomorrow. I want him to be able to have somewhere soft (OTHER THAN MY BED) to lay, even if one of the beds has to be washed.

Started a really cute sweater for him from Knitty - found it &lt;a href="http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEfall03/PATTpenny.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. I have to wait until he's actually HERE before I knit, because pugs tend to have pretty broad chests, and I would hate to knit an entire sweater and have it not fit him at all.

Wish I could post pictures when we get him, but I have to wait until the next payday to even THINK of buying a new digital camera.

Been reading &lt;a href="http://rabbitch.blogspot.com"&gt;Rabbitch's blog&lt;/a&gt;, (going through the archives - I like background information) and, following one of the links she posted, found &lt;a href="http://www.asofterworld.com/soft_oct3_2003.htm"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. I know it's a little irreverant, but I thought it was HILARIOUS.

Anyway - sorry I'm a little dry on content today. My partner in crime is out of the office today, so I'm handling her dudes and mine, which creates about 3 times the work for me, plus I have a parent/teacher conference this afternoon (MHP has NOT been suspended in almost 2 months! WOO!) plus I'm freaking out about not being prepared enough for the pup, all while THOROUGHLY enjoying the Broadway soundtrack for "Rent" (which, IMHO, is the ONLY version worth listening to.).

AAAHHHHH!! :0

Oh, almost forgot, Joaquin Phoenix is a tasty tasty man morsel.  &lt;a href="http://golden-state.blogspot.com"&gt;Miss Kendra&lt;/a&gt; kindly enlightened me to the fact that I forgot that in the last post :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113225388327969072?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113225388327969072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113225388327969072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113225388327969072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113225388327969072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/just-stuff.html' title='Just stuff...'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113220232612895611</id><published>2005-11-16T20:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T20:38:46.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Dork.  Right here.</title><content type='html'>I love Johnny Cash.  Have I said it before?  Well, now you know :)

So I'm sitting here watching the "I walk the line" special on CBS, and I am a teensy weensy bit disappointed.  Not with the music, nothing could ever top a good Johnny Cash song.  Not with the clips from the movie, I'm more than geeked out about that. 

However, I am a little weirded out by a couple of things.  One - Jerry Lee Lewis.  And Kid Rock.  On the same song, apparently.  I am not, by any means, dissing on Jerry.  Or crazy Kid (love that "Bawitaba").  But if they could play the same song at the same time, I would be very grateful. 

Two - Dennis Quaid appeared to have not washed his jacket before he stepped onstage.  It looked like some big pawed dog walked all over him.

That's pretty much it.  Andy Garcia is hot. (sorry, I got distracted there for a sec.)

I love Montgomery Gentry, and wish they could have sang all the songs, with Martina McBride...maybe if they'd added a little Reba or Bonnie Raitt in there (gotta love those redheads!) it would have been completely perfect.  That, and if they'd left Sheryl Crow and her scary autoharp out of it.

And Norah Jones?  Love her.  Her voice is so unique and smooth - like buttermilk.  Love the fact that they're having her sing with Kris Kristofferson.  He cracks me up.  He is, however, a teensy wee bit tone deaf.  But adorable nonetheless. 

Sorry...I'm Captain Distracto today...it's been a looooong day and I tried to go to sleep earlier, but it didn't take....isn't anyone going to sing "Hurt"?  (I'm only halfway through the special.  We'll see if I make it through this awake.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113220232612895611?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113220232612895611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113220232612895611' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113220232612895611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113220232612895611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/big-dork-right-here.html' title='Big Dork.  Right here.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113217090920793333</id><published>2005-11-16T11:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T11:55:09.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insert Eye Rolling Here</title><content type='html'>So I just got a "blocked" call on my cell phone, which I normally don't answer, my this stupid cell phone is trigger happy and likes to have people talk to my purse when they call.

So when I answered the call, the gentleman said he was from a certain financial company, who was doing a collections on photos my son had done at school last year.  They said I owed them $33.95 and I needed to pay RIGHT NOW.

Now, just as a quick side note, I am financially retarded.  Sometimes I would rather spend money on yarn than the electric bill, and this causes problems, as one would probably guess.

So I just assume since they're calling, they're legit.  I ask him for verification on why they're calling me and why they haven't just sent me a bill, and he says it's because they need to collect this money TODAY.  So when he asks for my credit card number, like the rube I am, I give it to him. 

Now here's where he starts to get REALLY sketchy (because the earlier weirdness apparently wasn't enough).  He asked for the "secret code" on the back of my credit card.

So when I told him that I don't give that information out over the phone, he says he needs me to speak to his supervisor.  I'm treated to a good 45 seconds of rustling (probably with his hand over the phone) and then someone else comes on the line.

This dude gets downright rude with me.  He calls me a deadbeat, tells me I need to pay the bill now or they're going to SUE ME (been there, done that, not a big hairy deal) and this is coming from a company that hasn't even sent me a bill.  Whatev, dude.

THEN, he tells me that he needs that number, or he'll need my bank account, routing number and bank address so they can properly retrieve this $33.95 from me.  Then he calls me an ass for not paying the bill.

So I hung up.

Then I did a little MSN Search (not Google, I'll have to tell you some other time WHY) and found the number for the headquarters.  After 3 minutes of wrestling with "If you want this person, press 1.  For this department, press 2,"  I finally got through to a live person who confirmed my idiocy - there is no account on file under any known aliases. 

So I cancelled my credit card and spent 30 minutes on the phone with the local police department, where they lectured me on how not to be a complete imbecile and to shred my bills before I toss them.

Moral of the story?  Don't stand too close to me, you may catch fire.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113217090920793333?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113217090920793333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113217090920793333' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113217090920793333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113217090920793333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/insert-eye-rolling-here.html' title='Insert Eye Rolling Here'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113216819947718567</id><published>2005-11-16T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T11:09:59.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doggie Sweaters, Marlboro Lights and your Fat Friend</title><content type='html'>So - how's everybody coming with their dog sweaters?  I feel like the biggest nerd in the world, because I have NO IDEA if y'all are just humoring me, or what.

This is my first knitalong that I'm in charge of.  I have no idea what I'm doing, apparently... BUT I'M HAVING FUN!

Knit the pup a little rug yesterday for him to use in puppy class - used 2 strands of Lion Brand Homespun (one in black, one in a real dark purple) held together, and it sort of looks like that dishcloth pattern that everybody's been using with the holes along the edge.  ANYWAY - it's real soft, and real thick, so when we have to go to that cement-floored room for our "puppy kindergarten" lessons, he doesn't have to lie on the cold floor.

Yes, I'm weird about my dog.  But he's cute, and he's mine (and MHP's too, of course) so I can spoil him if I want.

OK, so I want to pout for just a quick second here.  I forgot to vote last week.  (I know, people are dying for my right to vote and I'm an asshole.  We've established that, and also the fact that I'm ignorant and stupid.  Moving on.) 

Not that my one vote would have mattered, but the I-666 measurement (or whatever number it is, I don't remember) passed.  For those of you non-Washingtonians (and those of you who do live here and still don't know what I'm talkign about, which is entirely plausible), that means nobody can smoke in public establishments.  Or whatever the political jargon says....

You can't smoke in bars anymore in Washington.  That's what it means, in short.

I don't know why I'm like a week late in coming to the party about this, but I'm a little pissed off.  I understand that not everybody is like me, and smokes only when they go out drinking.  Haven't you ever cleaned out your purse after a night of revelry and debauchery and tried to figure out where the 9 lighters and the pack of Camel Lights came from?  No? 

IMHO, I think there should be smoking bars and non-smoking bars, like restaurant sections.  "Smoking or non-smoking?"  (Damn, I'm going to miss that question.)  I'll miss the cigars at Tini Bigs too - DAMN STUPID LAWS!!

I'm done now.  Moving on to the next controversial topic that will probably bring a hail of flame mail down on my head.

So I used to have this friend.  We'd been friends since like the 3rd grade, and the poor thing, her mother always used to compare her to me.  It was really sad.

ANYWAY - she was always my "fat friend".  What?  Don't look at me like that!  Every girl has a "fat friend" - the one that makes her feel better about herself.  I &lt;strong&gt;know&lt;/strong&gt; that's terrible and I'm a &lt;strong&gt;hideously&lt;/strong&gt; awful person and I should be drug out in the street and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;shot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, but there's a moral to this story.

So I've gained a little weight lately.  No, strike that, I've gained a toddler's worth of weight.  (No, I'm not pregnant.  Thanks for asking.) So I'm ALREADY feeling miserable about myself, and probably should get up off my fat tookus and work out more than I already do.

POINT BEING - I was completely and utterly destroyed (while, at the same time TRYING to feel happy for her - quite the conundrum, I tell you) when said FF shows up at my house, weighing about an Olsen Twin less than she did before.  And just to make things THAT MUCH WORSE, the first thing she says when she walks in the door is "Oh honey, have you gained weight?"

Karma has come around to kick me straight in the ass - I'm HER FF now.

So my question is - how come I can't be happy for her?  She was always the person I could count on (for almost 20 years) to be MORE MISERABLE than I was.  Now that she's thinner than I am, making more money than me, owning her condo and her nice car, and ENGAGED (yeah, salt in the wound, I KNOW), I'm the pathetic one, which is why I stopped talking to her in the first place.

Well, I'm done with the pity party now, I have to go punish myself at the gym...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113216819947718567?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113216819947718567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113216819947718567' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113216819947718567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113216819947718567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/doggie-sweaters-marlboro-lights-and.html' title='Doggie Sweaters, Marlboro Lights and your Fat Friend'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113201574058524614</id><published>2005-11-14T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T16:49:00.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Button Button....who's got the button?</title><content type='html'>I need a button for the Pups &amp; Purls knitalong.  Does anyone out there know how to make them?  I am internet-disabled and I'm lucky I can even get my computer to turn on in the mornings.

It's been heinously busy at work.  I'm an administrative assistant for a big group, and I'm trying to get them all to a meeting in another state.  Have you ever seen those moms who herd large amounts of children around, trying to use their outstretched arms and harried voices to do so?  That's me. But the children have an average age of 50 and are married with at least 2 kids.

I am SO the odd man out at work.

Funny yarn story to tell y'all before I run screaming away from the office today - this morning, MHP comes to me with a piece of heavy cardstock and says "Momma, I've got to dress my turkey."

Uh, OK.  I've never seen a kindergartner learn advanced cooking skills,*  but all right, maybe it's some gifted program edumacation.  So I take a look, and over the 4 day weekend he just had, we were supposed to "disguise this paper turkey as something else so he could escape Thanksgiving dinner"**.

It's 8:27am at this time.  We leave the house at 8:30.  I try to act calm, but when MHP stands up on the couch, waving his arms around saying "MOMMA!! STOP FREAKING UP!!" I knew I was probably a little out of control.

Lucky for MHP, I just happened to have a lovely skein of Cascade 220 in a chocolate brown lying on the couch, so we dressed the turkey up like a horse.  Made him a mane, and a tail and a little saddle.  In 2 point 2 minutes.

I think MHP may have learned why one does not stall until the verylastsecond when dealing with homework.  At least, until next time.

&lt;em&gt;*Dressing and cooking a turkey is considered advanced cooking skills for someone like me, who deals with Spaghettios and Cup O Noodles on a regular basis.  Don't get me wrong, I can make cream puffs and souffles with the best of them, but anything that causes me to spend more than an hour in the kitchen is considered a special occasion.  Like Thanksgiving, where I disappear into someone ELSE'S kitchen for hours on end, and cook my brains out. Mmm, Thanksgiving.  I am happy it is next week.  Where was I??&lt;/em&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;
&lt;em&gt;**I KNOW some vegan PETA-loving treehugging parent got their panties all in a wad about insinuating that the turkey would get eaten if the kiddos didn't dress him up. I say to that parent: IT'S KINDERGARTEN!!  Chill.  It is all good, and no one will make your kid eat turkey if he doesn't want to.  Irie, man.  Hakuna Matata, and all that good stuff.&lt;/em&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;
&lt;em&gt;I like PETA.  I am actually a member of PETA.  I do, however, not agree with anyone that gets all upset and offended over an art project in kindergarten.  Pick your fights, fight them well and teach your children good values.  And that's all I have to say about that.  &lt;/em&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;
&lt;em&gt;I'm off to hug the maple tree in our backyard.&lt;/em&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;****FOR THOSE OF YOU PLAYING ALONG AT HOME - only 3 1/2 more days until I go pick up our new pug puppy, Goliath! WOO!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113201574058524614?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113201574058524614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113201574058524614' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113201574058524614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113201574058524614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/button-buttonwhos-got-button.html' title='Button Button....who&apos;s got the button?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113173368357236081</id><published>2005-11-11T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T10:28:03.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The things I do...</title><content type='html'>I thought making &lt;a href="http://www.frappr.com/hotrodlibbyloo"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;would be a good idea, since &lt;a href="http://masondixonknitting.com"&gt;Kay and Ann&lt;/a&gt; did it, and I apparently need to copy them ALL THE TIME. 

So get up off your duffs and go add yourself to the map so I can see how far my blog reaches :)  Please and thank you.

OK, now on to the P&amp;P KAL thing.  I have 3 people signed up, besides me.  I KNOW there are others out there who want to do it, so I'm just going to keep the thing open.

Only deal is, you have to send me a picture of your cute doggie in his (or her, as the case may be) loverly sweater.  Then I will enter you in a drawing for a FABULOUS PRIZE! (yet to be determined, we'll make this up as we go along)

Use whatever pattern, whatever yarns you want, I don't mind.  I do have some suggestions, though:
&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Use machine-washable yarns unless you like handwashing things.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Measure your dog first.  Especially with dogs like Goliath, they have odd shapes and you neeed to make sure it will fit.  (duh. Now I'm just starting to state the obvious)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fiber Trends makes a great dog sweater pattern - you can find it &lt;a href="http://www.purplekittyyarns.com/Dog-Sweater-Patternli.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  One pattern, with 3 cute variations!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is also a pattern in each of the Stitch 'n' Bitch books.  If you want to knit the one that has a matching human sweater, that would be very cute.  (I'm sorry, I couldn't find a link.  Get thee to thy nearest bookstore.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ooh!  Found this online - it's a &lt;a href="http://www.thedietdiary.com/cgi-bin/chart_dog.pl"&gt;custom dog sweater pattern generator&lt;/a&gt;.  Very handy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;HAVE FUN DAMMIT!! :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK, that's enough stuff for now.  If anyone knows someone (or knows themseleves) how to make those cute little button thingies, that would be MUCH appreciated...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pups 'n' Purls Knitalong HAS BEGUN!  (OK, I'm officially a dork now.  Someone know how to make a button for that too??)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113173368357236081?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113173368357236081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113173368357236081' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113173368357236081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113173368357236081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/things-i-do.html' title='The things I do...'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113165366140562241</id><published>2005-11-10T12:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T14:01:32.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bandwagon anyone?</title><content type='html'>Hey y'all, I'm up for a knitalong, are you?

I think this will be more of an ongoing thing, rather than a definite ending, but I was hoping to get some peoples involved.

Want to join the Pups and Purls knitalong? Just leave a comment with your email address (or your blog address, so I can visit) and we'll get some details out soon.

Come on, you know you want to....

&lt;strong&gt;UPDATE:  Ok, apparently I am a teensy itty bit mental, and forgot to say the PURPOSE of the knitalong, or the intended subject or whatever.&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Knit your dog a sweater.  Or your friend's dog, whatever puts the bubbles in your beer.  Doesn't matter the pattern, as long as you're knitting a dog sweater.  We'll have prizes and such.  More details to come when I get some sleep and stop looking like a Zombie Princess.&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113165366140562241?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113165366140562241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113165366140562241' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113165366140562241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113165366140562241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/bandwagon-anyone.html' title='Bandwagon anyone?'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11296014.post-113164686629455574</id><published>2005-11-10T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T10:21:06.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thought Thursday</title><content type='html'>I know, a repeat of yesterday, but my brain is not firing on all cylinders this morning. 

&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Had to drive through HIDEOUS morning traffic this morning.  Seeing as how my commute is normally a total of 20 minutes, and that includes taking MHP to school, THIS IS NOT A FUN THING.  Took me over an hour to get to work.  Grr.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have suffered a sudden onset of adult acne on my chin.  I have always had clear skin, and I have no idea where it came from. If anyone has suggestions on how to make it GO AWAY, I would super appreciate it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I need a spinning wheel.  I want to learn how to spin properly, and the drop spindle just seems to take SO LONG and I would like more immediate results, thankyouverymuch.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have no room in my house for a spinning wheel.  Plus, with my luck, the dog would pick that as his chew toy.  So we'll wait until the dog is a little older to look more closely into obtaining a nice wheel for the Libster.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;For some reason, I know like 4 people who actually call me Libby.  (Or Elizabeth, but we won't get into that right now.)  I get "Libs", "Libbers", "Libbanon"...all sorts of nicknames, none of which I particularly care for.  I find it odd, though, that hardly anyone actually uses my name when addressing me.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I forgot to tell you all that I have a new blog (I know, I have 3.  I have too much time on my hands, apparently.) - I'm trying to lose weight, so I'm keeping track of exercise, injuries...that sort of thing, at &lt;a href="http://fatgirllovescake.blogspot.com"&gt;this site&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The weight loss thing is killing me.  I can't drink as much soda, and I had to completely quit smoking in order to not have my lungs melt while running.  Ow.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I agreed to knit 3 pairs of socks for someone for them to give as Christmas gifts in exchange for payment.  Is that weird, that I'm whoring my knitting skills out, or is it a good idea?  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I need to start taking some vitamins.  I haven't done that since the grand Step Aerobics Fiasco of 1998.  Any suggestions??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK, I'm done for now.  I don't want to bore everyone to death.  Maybe just bore y'all into a coma of sorts... :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113164686629455574?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113164686629455574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113164686629455574' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113164686629455574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113164686629455574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/random-thought-thursday.html' title='Random Thought Thursday'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113157888990497048</id><published>2005-11-09T15:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T15:28:09.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;form action="http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/do-survey.php" method="post" target="_new"&gt;&lt;table bordercolor="#efefef" cellspacing="0" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="middle" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF - The Survey&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="TELL+ME+ABOUT+YOURSELF+-+The+Survey" name="question1"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="2" name="type1"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Name:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Libby&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Name%3A" name="question2"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type2"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Birthday:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Feb 12&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Birthday%3A" name="question3"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type3"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Birthplace:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Redmond, WA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Birthplace%3A" name="question4"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type4"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Current Location:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Redmond WA (I know, it's sad.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Current+Location%3A" name="question5"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Eye Color:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Green&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Eye+Color%3A" name="question6"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type6"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Hair Color:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Reddish (some say it's MAHOGANY. It's brown.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Hair+Color%3A" name="question7"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type7"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Height:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;5'8"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Height%3A" name="question8"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type8"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Right Handed or Left Handed:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Right&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Right+Handed+or+Left+Handed%3A" name="question9"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type9"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Your Heritage:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Irish/Scottish/German/Dutch/English (read: big girl. Red hair. Freckles.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Your+Heritage%3A" name="question10"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type10"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;The Shoes You Wore Today:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dansko clogs, red and well-loved.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="The+Shoes+You+Wore+Today%3A" name="question11"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type11"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Your Weakness:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gin and Tonics and "foreign" places (like Vegas)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Your+Weakness%3A" name="question12"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type12"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Your Fears:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Being alone. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Your+Fears%3A" name="question13"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type13"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Your Perfect Pizza:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pepperoni, mushrooms and ham&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Your+Perfect+Pizza%3A" name="question14"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type14"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Finish a project and start a savings account&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Goal+You+Would+Like+To+Achieve+This+Year%3A" name="question15"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type15"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;DUDE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Your+Most+Overused+Phrase+On+an+instant+messenger%3A" name="question16"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type16"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Thoughts First Waking Up:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Oh crap - what time is it? Where's MHP??&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Thoughts+First+Waking+Up%3A" name="question17"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type17"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Your Best Physical Feature:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;My freckles&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Your+Best+Physical+Feature%3A" name="question18"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type18"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Your Bedtime:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Betwen 11 and midnight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Your+Bedtime%3A" name="question19"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type19"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Your Most Missed Memory:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Huh? I miss college - the non-studying part at least :)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Your+Most+Missed+Memory%3A" name="question20"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type20"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Pepsi or Coke:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Coke.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Pepsi+or+Coke%3A" name="question21"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type21"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;MacDonalds or Burger King:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Neither - I'm on strike. They both make my pants shrink.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="MacDonalds+or+Burger+King%3A" name="question22"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type22"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Single or Group Dates:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Um...both. I like both.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Single+or+Group+Dates%3A" name="question23"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type23"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Neither, I don't like iced tea.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Lipton+Ice+Tea+or+Nestea%3A" name="question24"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type24"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Chocolate or Vanilla:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vanilla.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Chocolate+or+Vanilla%3A" name="question25"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type25"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Cappuccino or Coffee:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cappucino&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Cappuccino+or+Coffee%3A" name="question26"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type26"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you Smoke:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Only if work sucks. So yes.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+Smoke%3A" name="question27"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type27"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you Swear:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yup. Dammitass.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+Swear%3A" name="question28"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type28"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you Sing:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Only if nobody is listening, or the music is loud enough to cover me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+Sing%3A" name="question29"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type29"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you Shower Daily:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yup - sometimes twice&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+Shower+Daily%3A" name="question30"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Have you Been in Love:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yup.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Have+you+Been+in+Love%3A" name="question31"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type31"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you want to go to College:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nope - done that, been there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+want+to+go+to+College%3A" name="question32"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type32"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you want to get Married:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Not sure. Jury's still out on that one.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+want+to+get+Married%3A" name="question33"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type33"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you belive in yourself:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sometimes. I still doubt, but I know that I know best. ;)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+belive+in+yourself%3A" name="question34"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type34"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you get Motion Sickness:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nope.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+get+Motion+Sickness%3A" name="question35"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type35"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you think you are Attractive:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nope.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+think+you+are+Attractive%3A" name="question36"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type36"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Are you a Health Freak:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nope.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Are+you+a+Health+Freak%3A" name="question37"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type37"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you get along with your Parents:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sometimes. Usually on Sundays, when I don't have to see them.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+get+along+with+your+Parents%3A" name="question38"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type38"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you like Thunderstorms:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Abso-friggin-lutely.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+like+Thunderstorms%3A" name="question39"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type39"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Do you play an Instrument:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Used to play the piano and the viola.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Do+you+play+an+Instrument%3A" name="question40"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type40"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you Drank Alcohol:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Uh, yes. Yes I have.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+Drank+Alcohol%3A" name="question41"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type41"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you Smoked:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yup&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+Smoked%3A" name="question42"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type42"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you been on Drugs:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Unless you count the one Xanax I took to get through a SUPER rough day, I haven't been on drugs since 2001.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+been+on+Drugs%3A" name="question43"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type43"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you gone on a Date:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yup.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+gone+on+a+Date%3A" name="question44"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type44"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you gone to a Mall:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;HELL YES. Retail therapy, my friends.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+gone+to+a+Mall%3A" name="question45"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type45"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I hate oreos.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+eaten+a+box+of+Oreos%3A" name="question46"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type46"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you eaten Sushi:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Not a sushi fan.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+eaten+Sushi%3A" name="question47"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type47"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you been on Stage:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nope. Wish I had!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+been+on+Stage%3A" name="question48"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type48"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you been Dumped:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yup&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+been+Dumped%3A" name="question49"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type49"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I have never been skinny dipping.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+gone+Skinny+Dipping%3A" name="question50"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type50"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;In the past month have you Stolen Anything:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Uh, no.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+the+past+month+have+you+Stolen+Anything%3A" name="question51"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type51"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Ever been Drunk:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yup. Try this at least once a month.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Ever+been+Drunk%3A" name="question52"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type52"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Ever been called a Tease:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yup. I've been called a full-out ho when I was actually a virgin. Fun times.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Ever+been+called+a+Tease%3A" name="question53"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type53"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Ever been Beaten up:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yup. Also laid the beat-down.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Ever+been+Beaten+up%3A" name="question54"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type54"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Ever Shoplifted:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Once. And it was terrifying.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Ever+Shoplifted%3A" name="question55"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type55"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;How do you want to Die:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;In my sleep, as a VERY old lady.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="How+do+you+want+to+Die%3A" name="question56"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type56"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;What do you want to be when you Grow Up:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I want to own my own knitting shop.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="What+do+you+want+to+be+when+you+Grow+Up%3A" name="question57"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type57"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;What country would you most like to Visit:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ireland&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="What+country+would+you+most+like+to+Visit%3A" name="question58"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type58"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="middle" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;In a Boy/Girl..&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="In+a+Boy%2FGirl.." name="question59"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="2" name="type59"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Favourite Eye Color:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Blue&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Favourite+Eye+Color%3A" name="question60"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type60"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Favourite Hair Color:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Blond/Bald&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Favourite+Hair+Color%3A" name="question61"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type61"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Short or Long Hair:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Short, but not buzzed (unless bald.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Short+or+Long+Hair%3A" name="question62"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type62"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Height:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;6'3" or above.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Height%3A" name="question63"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type63"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Weight:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;225-275&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Weight%3A" name="question64"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type64"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Best Clothing Style:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Casual&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Best+Clothing+Style%3A" name="question65"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type65"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Number of Drugs I have taken:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Number+of+Drugs+I+have+taken%3A" name="question66"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type66"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Number of CDs I own:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Don't know. Haven't counted&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Number+of+CDs+I+own%3A" name="question68"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type68"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Number of Piercings:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;6&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Number+of+Piercings%3A" name="question69"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type69"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Number of Tattoos:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1 (2 more on the way)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Number+of+Tattoos%3A" name="question70"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type70"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Number of things in my Past I Regret:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;ZERO. I learn from my mistakes, and move past them.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="Number+of+things+in+my+Past+I+Regret%3A" name="question71"&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" value="1" name="type71"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Take This Survey"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/create-survey.php"&gt;CREATE YOUR OWN!&lt;/a&gt; - or - &lt;a href="http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/paid-surveys.php"&gt;GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113157888990497048?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113157888990497048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113157888990497048' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113157888990497048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113157888990497048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/tell-me-about-yourself.html' title=''/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113158122879010589</id><published>2005-11-09T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T16:07:08.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thought Wednesday.</title><content type='html'>I know it's supposed to be Random Thought Thursday, but I'm a day early.  i'm pretending there are TWO Thursdays this week!  That way I WON'T have time to hate Wednesday, because there IS NO WEDNESDAY THIS WEEK.  (Which, incidentally, means that there is no staff meeting, since they're on Wednesdays.)

&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love LOST so much, that I actually cancel plans to watch it.  I keep having to do that, because I keep forgetting when Wednesday is.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Note to self:&lt;em&gt; Wednesday comes after Tuesday.  Before Thursday.  It's the day you wake up hating.  The day MHP is at Mimi &amp; Papa's overnight. Work from there.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Someone is hammering in the office next door to mine.  I do not work in construction - this is an odd sound in our office.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have decided that noone is allowed to talk to me anymore.  So much so, that I told Vegas Shannon that I needed her to send out an email to everyone in the universe to inform them of that fact.  She said that would be hard, since our "global address book" isn't exactly GLOBAL.  So she's writing a chain letter (not really) to send to all of her (imaginary) friends that says: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Libby does not want to talk to anyone anymore.  This is very important that you inform everyone immediately.  Send this to eleventy-bintillion people, or your hair will fall out and your geckos will run away.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;That last one wasn't as funny as I thought it was.  It was HILARIOUS when we were talking about it.  That happens to me alot.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I won a computer at work!  WOO!!  Then I gave it to my parents, because they don't have one.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm supposed to go out with TX (TB?) tonight, but I am soooo tired.  I am so tired, I have no energy to type the rest of this.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How is it that I have no energy to go out, but I have energy to play &lt;a href="http://www.chompchamp.com/"&gt;this?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I need to go to the gym still.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm blogging way too much.  I should probably be working....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway - that's pretty much what I've been thinking of this week.  Crap, crap, and more crap.  YAY.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113158122879010589?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113158122879010589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113158122879010589' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113158122879010589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113158122879010589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/random-thought-wednesday.html' title='Random Thought Wednesday.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113155936192216829</id><published>2005-11-09T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T10:02:41.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate Wednesdays.</title><content type='html'>I hate them because there is no reason for them, other than to torture you.  Tell you "Hey! It's not close enough to Monday for you to have an excuse why you look like death, but it's not close enough to Friday to offer you a reprieve from the seventh circle of Hell your desk has become."

Dammitass.  Anyway, found &lt;a href="http://www.trevorvanmeter.com/flyguy/"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;on &lt;a href="http://theboogerblog.blogspot.com"&gt;Boogie's blog&lt;/a&gt;, and I've already wasted the major part of my morning playing with it.  Next up?  The gym.  Fun times....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113155936192216829?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113155936192216829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113155936192216829' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113155936192216829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113155936192216829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-hate-wednesdays.html' title='I hate Wednesdays.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113149086731020239</id><published>2005-11-08T14:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T15:01:07.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I FORGOT I'M SORRY!</title><content type='html'>I completely and utterly forgot to show y'all what my secret pal sent me yesterday:

&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.modeknit.com/silk_corset.html"&gt;THIS PATTERN.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I was so excited, I almost ran out and bought the yarn IMMEDIATELY, but then I remembered I was a broke ass ho. :)  Plus, the local craft store didn't carry satin yarn, so I bought alpaca for a &lt;a href="http://knittingforboozehags.com/freebirds/lelah-top?PHPSESSID=6012c4d039886c7fe89562380a02734b"&gt;completely DIFFERENT project.&lt;/a&gt;

Who me?  ADD? I don't think so. I can TOTALLY focus....OOH!  SOMETHING SHINY!!  Gotta go.

Oh, and go be friends with &lt;a href="http://www.crazyauntpurl.com"&gt;Crazy Aunt Purl &lt;/a&gt;immediately.  She is hilarious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113149086731020239?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113149086731020239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113149086731020239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113149086731020239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113149086731020239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-forgot-im-sorry.html' title='I FORGOT I&apos;M SORRY!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113147141973251680</id><published>2005-11-08T09:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T09:36:59.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy damn, I am boring.</title><content type='html'>I just realized - I really need to get a new digital camera. This blog is getting hella boring without pictures.

I could always steal pictures and say "Hey, so I finally found this really great picture of X with his totally gorgeous dog" and post this:
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4426/910/200/Vin2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And none of y'all would be the wiser until you noticed that picture that's always up there in the corner with my profile and try to do the math, and realize 1 Libby + all of her sex appeal she's ever had EVER + trolling for hot men at bars DOES NOT = Vin Diesel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So.  Ahem.  We will not be posting pictures again, unless I find a new one of Goliath from the breeder (ONLY 10 DAYS Y'ALL!!) and then I can post that :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I apologize for my boringness as of late - it's been really crazygonuts busy around the office, and it's all I can do to drag my tired ass to gather up MHP, make him some dinner, and fall into bed half dead, waking up the next morning with virtually no change in the tired levels.  *sigh*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So wish me luck finding something interesting to blog about...if something way supercool comes up, I will be sure to keep all of you posted :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113147141973251680?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113147141973251680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113147141973251680' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113147141973251680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113147141973251680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/holy-damn-i-am-boring.html' title='Holy damn, I am boring.'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113138975004778038</id><published>2005-11-07T10:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T10:55:50.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story Time Kids!</title><content type='html'>Alrighty, so let's all sit in our circle to hear a story about how Libby is completely inept at simple tasks, like staying broken up with boyfriends, running in straight lines and staying upright at important times, like in the rain in the dark by herself.

So, once upon a time, there was a girl...

No seriously, I'll spare you the rhetoric and just tell y'all straight out, I am apparently a functioning amoeba person.  I went running last night, and apparently, the giant knobs in the sidewalk caused by tree roots are there EVERY night, not just the nights that I can actually SEE them.

So I bit it right as I started running.  BAM!  Face down on the sidewalk. 

Worst part is?  There were about 90 cars passing at that second on a road that normally gets very light traffic at 9pm on a Sunday.  Ugh.  Fun thing though, not one of them stopped to see if I was dead, since I decided to lay there for a second, face down in a puddle on the sidewalk. 

So what do I do?  I get up, stretch for a second, and commence with the running again.  Probably not the smartest idea, what with it being about 8 degrees outside, and me soaking wet from the neck to my bellybutton, but y'all know me.  I'm not one for logical thinking.

As for the boyfriend story, TX wants to be TB again.  He took me out to dinner on Saturday because he wanted to "talk".  I don't know what that means, but he basically stared at me the entire time saying "I keep forgetting how stunning you are."

Now, sh*t like that normally gets somewhere with me, but I wasn't sure about it.  So, like the non-logical thinker I am, I want clarification.  So right in the middle of a fairly decent restaurant, I look him dead in the eye and say "What the f*ck is it that you actually WANT from me?  And 'I don't know' doesn't cut it, asshole."

He just stared.

So I pushed the envelope a bit and said "You know what?  I'm not a yo-yo.  You can't throw me away, and then jerk your hand back and expect me to return just like that.  I am a person who deserves some respect, which you have NOT been giving me."

His eyes got all wide and he said, "You know what?  You're right.  You deserve more respect than what I've been giving you.  Could I get another chance to make it up to you?"

To which I had no response.  So I ate the rest of my meal and sat there in silence.

While we were walking out to the car, he held the door open for me, and opened an umbrella which he held over my head.  Then he put his arm around me and that's when I fell down into the puddle.

I'm such a catch.

KNITTING NEWS - there really isn't any today. I knit MHP a hat that didn't fit, but he likes it anyway...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113138975004778038?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113138975004778038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113138975004778038' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113138975004778038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113138975004778038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/story-time-kids.html' title='Story Time Kids!'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113104559676726563</id><published>2005-11-03T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T11:19:56.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not feeling the creative vibe today.  My body hurts from a rather violent episode at the gym that involved shooting off of the back of a rapidly moving treadmill in a room full of people. 

NOTE TO SELF: They have a "dark room" in your gym.  They turn the lights down so others have a rough time seeing you make a complete fool of yourself on a rather simple machine.  Find it.  Run on THOSE treadmills.

So I finished a fingerless glove for my friend's birthday...and didn't finish the other one.  Her birthday is today...so she's very Michael Jackson this morning.

No other knitting news...well, there is, but I'm embarassed to tell you all that I'm knitting a hat for TX because I promised him I would.

I try not to break my promises.

Oh, and MHP figured out that if I knit, I could make HIM something...and he wants hand warmers, one Slytherin Green and one Gryffindor Maroon.  Plus a "Harry Potter Scarf".  So that's Christmas.... LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113104559676726563?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113104559676726563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113104559676726563' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113104559676726563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113104559676726563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/im-not-feeling-creative-vibe-today.html' title='&lt;INSERT WITTY TITLE HERE&gt;'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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-11296014.post-113086945127201616</id><published>2005-11-01T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T15:14:57.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving</title><content type='html'>Not me, the heartbreak and the bullsh*t breakup stuff has moved. To &lt;a href="http://heartshapedtrashcan.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, if you'd like to read about my slow recovery. :) I don't know what's possessed me to bare my entire soul to the internet, but there you go.

In knitting news, I made a pair of baby bootees for one of the ladies in my office, and she's all excited about them. So that's a good thing.

MHP is fine, not really any problems at school, and he's being very good at home and putting away his toys and listening the first time I ask him to do something. He's a big help.

The Roommate is being very helpful - her specialty in school was relationship therapy, so she's trying to be helpful. "Trying" being the key word.

I've got to jam - the boss man is crawling all over my office trying to get me to do something, so I better go.

UPDATE:  Apparently, I'm famous enough for my lack of sweater-knitting (read: sweater- FINISHING) skills that I'm mentioned on &lt;a href="http://www.masondixonknitting.com/"&gt;Ann &amp; Kay's&lt;/a&gt; blog today.  WOO!!

Oh, and I found &lt;a href="http://www.planetdan.net/pics/misc/georgie.htm"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;, which should entertain &lt;a href="http://nownormaknits2.typepad.com/now_norma_knits_2/"&gt;Norma &lt;/a&gt;to no end.  What with her kickass spinning and everything, she doesn't have enough to do...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11296014-113086945127201616?l=hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/feeds/113086945127201616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11296014&amp;postID=113086945127201616' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113086945127201616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11296014/posts/default/113086945127201616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hotrodlibbyloo.blogspot.com/2005/11/moving.html' title='Moving'/><author><name>Libby</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><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></feed>
