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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode</id>
  <title>The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom</title>
  <subtitle>Just north of the lake, in the house with the green door on the corner</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>jgoode</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2008-11-04T17:28:14Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="2610849" username="jgoode" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:114370</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/114370.html"/>
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    <title>Writer's Block: Secret Ballot</title>
    <published>2008-11-04T17:28:14Z</published>
    <updated>2008-11-04T17:28:14Z</updated>
    <category term="writer&amp;apos;s block"/>
    <category term="voting"/>
    <category term="polls"/>
    <category term="ballots"/>
    <category term="presidential race"/>
    <category term="u.s. election"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;div class='appwidget appwidget-qotd' id='LJWidget_16'&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style='border: 1px solid #000; padding: 6px;'&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's hard to ignore the fact that today is Election Day in the U.S. If you went to the polls today, tell us what it was like. Long line? Free stickers? Hanging chads? We want the details.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style='font-size: 0.8em;'&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;input type="button" value="Answer" onclick="document.location.href='http://www.livejournal.com/update.bml?qotd=649'" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/misc/latestqotd.bml?qid=649"&gt;View 500 Answers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- end .appwidget-qotd --&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;I normally have to leave the house by 7:15 to get the kids to school, so I went to my polling place at 6:45, thinking I'd be one of the first in line...wrong! The church parking lot was half full and there were already about 100 people waiting in line. Had to change plans. So I shuffled some things around, got the kids to school, and went back to vote around 8:40. There were still a fair number of cars in the lot, but there was no line, though all of the voting booths were being used and there was still a steady trickle of voters coming and going. I was the 409th voter of the day.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:114092</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/114092.html"/>
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    <title>quickly quickly quickly but more later</title>
    <published>2008-11-04T17:11:53Z</published>
    <updated>2008-11-04T17:11:53Z</updated>
    <category term="halloween"/>
    <content type="html">I'll need to make this quick because I'm up to my eyeballs in another WWII index and I lost a day because I stayed home from work yesterday with a sick Boy-Child. Yes, he is old enough to stay home by himself (he's 12 and a half), but since he was throwing up, I couldn't bear the thought of him not making it to the bathroom and having to clean it up himself...or worse, him just leaving it until I got home from work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway...Halloween was awesome! I do have pics, which I will post soon. We had a huge trick-or-treating turnout. I had secured 120 candy bars (full-size! always a crowd pleaser!) and 100 Tootsie Pops, planning to give one candy bar and one Tootsie Pop to each kid. At some point during the evening we had to change that to just one candy bar because we were dangerously close to running out of everything we had. By 9:30 pm, we had nine (!) candy bars and a handful of suckers left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, back to the index!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:113732</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/113732.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=113732"/>
    <title>halloween prep!</title>
    <published>2008-10-30T14:24:29Z</published>
    <updated>2008-10-30T14:24:29Z</updated>
    <category term="halloween"/>
    <content type="html">The kids have their costumes all ready. The Girl-Child is going as a gypsy (a &lt;i&gt;scary&lt;/i&gt; gypsy, she tells me), and the Boy-Child will be a vampire. Both costumes we cobbled together mainly from thrift store purchases, and I think both kids will look great. T and I are going military this year. I still need some dog tags and maybe a different hat than what came with the costume. I had wanted to wear one of my blond wigs...but I think one of the short dark ones will work better. A friend still has the one I was thinking of wearing...she went as Betty Rubble last year and borrowed it. We still need to get candy too. Gosh, I hope Sam's Club isn't out or anything...though you would think they would majorly stock up this time of year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Halloween!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:113471</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/113471.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=113471"/>
    <title>coffee with the girl-child</title>
    <published>2008-10-28T19:08:54Z</published>
    <updated>2008-10-28T19:08:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">On Monday and Tuesday mornings, I have to get the kids to school. The Boy-Child's first bell rings significantly sooner than does the Girl-Child's now that they are in different schools. So those mornings, after the Boy-Child gets dropped off, the Girl-Child and I have been stopping at Caribou Coffee to bide our time. I get a small coffee, and she gets tea...though lately she has been sneaking in a scone as well. I'm such a softie, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for about thirty minutes, we sip our drinks and talk about anything and everything, from fashion to swimming to the stock market to youtube to the election to the Jonas Brothers and everything in between. The Girl-Child is intelligent and articulate, so the discussions themselves are interesting. But the absolute best thing is that for those thirty-minute segments, we get hang out, just the two of us...still like mother and daughter, but like friends too, since there isn't anything else that needs to be done at that moment save sit and chat. Priceless.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:113343</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/113343.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=113343"/>
    <title>stupid world war II</title>
    <published>2008-10-24T14:14:52Z</published>
    <updated>2008-10-24T14:14:52Z</updated>
    <category term="work"/>
    <category term="exercise"/>
    <content type="html">OK, World War II actually wasn't stupid, but I'm annoyed with it right now anyway. Why did I disappear suddenly? Well, I was busy for a few days, and then I was hit with having to do a huge-ass index at work for a book on the war in the Pacific. OMG, if I never see Douglas MacArthur's name again, it will be too soon. This was the largest index I've had to do so far. I used a 10-point font and a one and a half line space and the monster Word document ended up being 42 pages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I have to turn around and do another index for a book about...oh, goody, World War II again. But this time I see we are in the Ukraine instead of the Pacific. Great, so now my eyes will be crossing looking at a pile of Russian names instead of Japanese names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note: Still working out. Still not losing much on the scale, but my hips have gone down about an inch or so since August. And I'm much stronger. I'm surprised by how quickly I've gained noticeable strength. At my age, I would have thought two months wouldn't do much, but as it turns out, two months of focus have done a lot.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:113106</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/113106.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=113106"/>
    <title>german horse books</title>
    <published>2008-10-03T12:53:30Z</published>
    <updated>2008-10-03T12:53:30Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Anyone want some horse books in German? I have no idea what they are about...one of them is called &lt;i&gt;Den Pferden ganz nah,&lt;/i&gt; and another is &lt;i&gt;Reiten wie ein Cowboy.&lt;/i&gt; Lol, is there no German word for &lt;i&gt;cowboy&lt;/i&gt;? There are a few other books as well. They are sitting on the "free books" table at work...so they could go at any minute! Act now! Seriously, if anyone reading this wants one, I'm happy to mail it.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:112839</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/112839.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=112839"/>
    <title>weigh in</title>
    <published>2008-10-01T15:41:53Z</published>
    <updated>2008-10-01T15:41:53Z</updated>
    <category term="weight"/>
    <category term="life time fitness"/>
    <category term="exercise"/>
    <content type="html">I don't often weigh myself, because I get way too wrapped up in the number and freak out if it's a number I don't like. However, I understand that it's a good thing to weigh yourself now and then to make sure your weight is going in the right direction. So after working out for about a month, I figured it was safe to weigh myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had underestimated my weight by a good ten pounds, which already was ten pounds heavier than I wanted to be. So now after scrambling like crazy at the gym, I am still currently twenty pounds over where I want to be. On the one hand, it's discouraging that I am not closer to my ideal weight in spite of working out so much lately. On the other hand, well, what did I expect? Truth be told, my exercise habits the past two or three years have been seriously lacking discipline, and I have been pretty careless in my diet. So I have only myself to blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, I know I am already in better shape than when I joined Life Time Fitness in August. In one of the early classes, the instructor had us do a back bend, and I could hold it for only a few seconds. Yesterday, I was actually shocked that I could now hold a back bend much, much longer with no problem at all. So this stuff works; it just takes time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And overall I am loving Life Time. I go over my lunch hour, and they have a variety of noon classes during the week. Twice they have 50/50, which is half cardio and half strength, though really more of a cardio class. They have one Strictly Strength class, which is all hand weights and bands and medicine balls and such. And then twice they have Total Conditioning, which is sort of like 50/50, but with more strength stuff...sort of like 70/30, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all fine...I just have to remind myself that I didn't gain all the weight in a month, so it's not all going to come off in a month.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:112523</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/112523.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=112523"/>
    <title>rum, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of</title>
    <published>2008-09-19T12:56:17Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-19T13:30:05Z</updated>
    <category term="talk like a pirate"/>
    <content type="html">Happy International Talk Like a Pirate Day, mateys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Edited to add, ye scurvy dogs:&lt;br /&gt;Besides talking like a pirate, just how does one celebrate International Talk Like a Pirate Day? Are there presents given? Festive meals prepared? I'm trying to think of what one would have for International Talk Like a Pirate Day dinner, and all I can think of is limes and tortoises...hmmm, I'm not keen on making tortoise roast....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any and all ideas are welcome!&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:112331</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/112331.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=112331"/>
    <title>three people it was nice to see</title>
    <published>2008-09-18T14:56:13Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-18T14:56:13Z</updated>
    <content type="html">1. Ex's favorite cousin: I'm still trying to figure out getting the kids to school when I have them. The Boy-Child is now in jr. high, which starts much earlier than the Girl-Child's school. I can drop the Boy-Child off, but then there's an approximately 15-minute wait at the Girl-Child's bus stop or an hour wait before I could drop her off at her school. Last week, the Girl-Child and I decided to hit a coffee shop to bide our time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and I had just finished our tea and coffee, respectively, when I heard someone call my name. It was the Ex's favorite cousin. I always thought she was a wonderful person and I haven't seen her in years, so I hugged her and we chatted for a few minutes. It got me thinking about other former in-laws I haven't talked to since my Ex and I split. A few I'm perfectly happy if I never have to see their smug, deluded azzes ever again. However, most of them I do miss on some level. I really loved the Ex's parents, for example, though I doubt they are holding on to much love for me at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Late-night Cub Foods worker: A few times T and I have hit Cub Foods on our way home after having been out at one of the local bars. Sometimes we've had the munchies; sometimes we've needed to pick up milk or cereal or eggs for the kids' breakfast. One night a while back, the munchies were hounding us. I had a huge craving for french bread and queso fresco. So at 2:00 am, we were at Cub Foods hauling said items to the counter. The late-night clerk remarked that he thought it was kind of funny, since most people at that time of night are buying chips or frozen pizza. We talked to the clerk for a bit; I think he was bored at work and just happy to converse with someone. Just your average nice guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I needed to pick up spinach on our way home. The same clerk was there. He asked if I was making spinach dip, and I told him about my spinach smoothies, to which he deadpanned, "Oh, yeah, that sounds good." I dunno, there's just something about him I like--I think he'd be cool to hang out with. But I'm not sure how T and I would make that happen. I would think late-night grocery store clerks would find it strange to have customers suggest a get-together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Hoodie Guy: T used to play darts on Wednesdays at another local bar. I would generally meet him there after band practice. There was this guy who always showed up at 12:30 (when they stopped charging cover), and he was always wearing the same hoodie. T and I never talked to him, but we nicknamed him Hoodie Guy and created this silly and elaborate backstory for him. At some point, we realized we hadn't seen Hoodie Guy for about six months (after seeing him regularly for about a year). He never seemed to be one with a lot of resources (financial or social), so I became worried about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, T and I were meeting some people at yet another bar to see Tracy Blake Project (great band). T had gone out to smoke when he texted me that Hoodie Guy had just walked into the bar! OMG! I couldn't believe it! And he was still wearing the exact same hoodie! I was so happy to see that he was OK. He'd just moved to a different bar, one with no cover and cheaper drinks. Good ol' Hoodie Guy.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:112043</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/112043.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=112043"/>
    <title>might as well meme</title>
    <published>2008-09-17T13:42:59Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-17T13:42:59Z</updated>
    <category term="meme"/>
    <content type="html">COMMENT HERE AND I WILL&lt;br /&gt;a) Tell you why I friended you.&lt;br /&gt;b) Associate you with something -- a fandom, song, color, photo, etc.&lt;br /&gt;c) Tell you something I like about you.&lt;br /&gt;d) Tell you a memory I have of you.&lt;br /&gt;e) Ask you something I've wanted to know about you&lt;br /&gt;f) Tell you my favorite userpic from your list&lt;br /&gt;g) In return, you need to post this on your own LJ.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:111704</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/111704.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=111704"/>
    <title>2 numbers away</title>
    <published>2008-09-16T03:46:30Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-16T03:46:30Z</updated>
    <content type="html">We won $100 on a powerball ticket from Saturday's drawing. I'm happy with it...cuz it's $100 we didn't have before. But we had matched 4 of the 6 numbers: If we had also matched the powerball number, we would have won $10,000; if we had matched the 5th regular number, we would have won $200,000; and if we had matched all 6 numbers, well, you know....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying to eat better and have been working out regularly for about a month now. I feel so much better, I can hardly believe it. I think I have lost some weight, but I haven't gotten on a scale, so I can't say for sure. I know my clothes are fitting better, and my face is definitely thinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remarkable part in all this, though, is how I feel mentally. I attribute a lot of this to the almighty spinach smoothie I have for breakfast. In fact, I would love to get someone to take the Spinach Smoothie Challenge to see if it improves their mood as well. But everyone says it sounds gross. It's not! Maybe tastes a little grassy, but I find the drink quite refreshing. Here is the recipe, in case anyone reading this wants to try it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spinach-Orange Smoothie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a cup of juice or Crystal Light&lt;br /&gt;1 orange, peeled&lt;br /&gt;About a cup and a half fresh spinach&lt;br /&gt;one third cup frozen blueberries and/or raspberries&lt;br /&gt;2 or 3 ice cubes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Place everything in a blender and blend it all up until smooth. It will be a gross color (rosy greenish brown), but it tastes pretty good!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:111503</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/111503.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=111503"/>
    <title>Baby Head</title>
    <published>2008-09-11T15:32:13Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-11T15:32:13Z</updated>
    <category term="baby head"/>
    <content type="html">A new user pic! Have I written about Baby Head before? Maybe. I know the Girl-Child did. Eh, it's my LJ, and I'll repeat myself if I want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple years ago, T and I were driving on a side street near our house. T hit some object in the road, and I didn't know what it was. T said it was a baby head, and I was incredulous. Why would there be a random baby head in the middle of the street? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T turned the car around, and I opened the door and scooped the object up...and it was a baby head. And it wasn't just a regular doll's head, either; it was one of those higher-end realistically creepy doll's heads, which looked even creepier with tire scuffs on its noggin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't just leave it in the street, so I brought Baby Head home with us. The first thing I did was hide Baby Head in step-son t's bed. Since then, Baby Head has gotten moved/hidden around the house. Baby Head might show up on your bed, in your sock drawer, in a cabinet, stuck on a wine bottle, on the kitchen counter with a knife in its head, etc. Step-son t got me really, really good once when he biked over to the house when T and I were out of town (he was at his mom's house) and hid Baby Head in the toilet. I just about had a heart attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T keeps saying he's going to get rid of Baby Head, but I would be seriously bummed if he did. I don't know why I get attached to random objects with a good backstory, but I do.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:111321</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/111321.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=111321"/>
    <title>The Scary Stairs, Part II</title>
    <published>2008-09-09T19:21:40Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-09T19:21:40Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I noticed yesterday that the pair of men's underwear that I had seen on a ledge in the stairwell was still there. However, today the underwear is on the floor...along with several crumpled-up paper towels nearby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am as confused by this scenario as I was by the underwear being there in the first place.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:110941</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/110941.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=110941"/>
    <title>overheard on the train</title>
    <published>2008-09-09T00:06:54Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-09T00:06:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">On the light rail coming home, I overheard a young man on his cell phone:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"FYI, you'll be hearing about this in the coming weeks, but I just wanted to give you a heads up. Yellow's pregnant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that baby comes out Green, we'll know who the father is.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:110697</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/110697.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=110697"/>
    <title>jgoode @ 2008-09-08T11:01:00</title>
    <published>2008-09-08T16:01:19Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-08T16:01:19Z</updated>
    <content type="html">This past Saturday, the company I work for had its annual car show. All the employees are required to work it, and I'm glad because I don't know that I would be motivated to make the long drive (it's held at our warehouse in WI) otherwise. And it's a really fun car show. We had something like 1,000 cars in about 30 different categories. As in years past, I was one of the judges, which means that I had to walk around for about 3+ hours straight looking for the cars that were in my categories (trucks, modern American 1980-2008, and Japanese). The judging is completely subjective. The main point of the show, I think, is that all these car people get to show off their babies and oh and ah over other guys' babies too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My car preferences: I love '70s Corvettes; they just scream 1970s to me. I love '60s Citroëns because of their distincitive silhouette. When you see a row of DeLoreans with their doors open, how can you not smile? And there is just something cool about the impressively impractical power of muscle cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, the cars I totally love to look at are the old-timey race cars. I don't personally have the ambition to go fast, but clearly for so many, it's an irresistible draw. I guess the reason I like race cars is that they are physical manifestations of that desire.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:110528</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/110528.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=110528"/>
    <title>The Scary Stairs</title>
    <published>2008-09-05T12:33:02Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-05T12:33:02Z</updated>
    <category term="work"/>
    <category term="wtf"/>
    <content type="html">My office is on the third floor of this building. I generally take the elevator going up, but I take the stairs going down (cuz a little extra exercise never hurt anyone). As I was leaving yesterday, a co-worker said, "Goodnight. Oh, you are taking the scary stairs?" I chuckled and assured him that the stairs weren't scary, though they do have that steel/concrete/industrial look to them. I was shaking my head thinking about this as I clomped down the steps when I noticed something. On a large ledge above one of the doors for the second floor, there was a pair of men's underwear. Boxer briefs. Royal blue, if that matters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should stop taking the scary stairs.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:110101</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/110101.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=110101"/>
    <title>Protesters?</title>
    <published>2008-09-03T14:34:22Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-03T14:34:22Z</updated>
    <category term="galtier plaza"/>
    <category term="republican national convention"/>
    <category term="st. paul"/>
    <content type="html">I work in downtown Minneapolis, but my office used to be in downtown St. Paul (we moved last January). I've seen various bits of footage of what could have been demonstrators, rioters, or police brutality. It's really hard to tell when you get only a few seconds of whatever those who have an agenda want you to see. Part of me wishes I still worked in St. Paul so I could see for myself what is going on. Part of me is very glad I don't have to drive to Galtier Plaza anymore, because I'm sure security is extremely tight right now. Seriously, I would be afraid to step out of my office for fear of getting tear-gassed.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:110039</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/110039.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=110039"/>
    <title>Comma issues</title>
    <published>2008-09-02T21:15:47Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-02T21:15:47Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Last week I was proofreading this book on F-15s. It's not super long or anything--30,000 words and 158 pages. I was told it would be quick, a "light proof." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I was proofing, I noted that while most of it was alright, whoever copyedited it had a major misunderstanding of when to use commas. Any copyeditor is going to miss some stuff here and there, but I'm talking hugely stupid errors over and over again. I kept on finding commas in between subjects and predicates, as in "The technician, mounts an F-15E Strike Eagle model for simulation of refueling operations." Also, there were commas separating cumulative adjectives all over the place, as in "The upgraded, digital, electronic engine control PW-220 powerplant replaced the problematic PW-100."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I mentioned it to the person in charge of giving me stuff to proof, thinking that since she had told me it was a light proof, she was unaware of how screwed up the layout was. But then she told me she had known that the copyeditor had introduced all these comma errors and that she wasn't going to be using him again. OK, fine, but if she &lt;i&gt;knew&lt;/i&gt; about all the errors...well, it would have been nice for her to give me a heads up.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:109592</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/109592.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=109592"/>
    <title>American Idols Live!</title>
    <published>2008-09-02T19:24:52Z</published>
    <updated>2008-09-02T19:24:52Z</updated>
    <category term="target center"/>
    <category term="american idol"/>
    <content type="html">The American Idols concert was Sunday night, and a fabulous time was had by all. We had gotten a ticket for the Girl-Child's friend, K, but unfortunately, K was sick and couldn't go. We ended up being able to sell the ticket at the last minute. It was at a loss, but at least the ticket didn't go to waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T had managed to get us great seats. We were in section 129, which is the first one next to the stage (not the one more behind the stage--that's 116), row C, seats 1 through 4 (stage side of the section). I've had floor seats before. Which seats are better? Well, for the kids, section 129 was great because they could see a lot better and not feel so crowded. Me? Not sure if I prefer the floor seats, but if it had been just me going, maybe I would have gone with floor in order to be closer to the stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concert was structured more like the season 5 AI tour, in that each of the top ten got their little mini-concert. Last year almost the entire thing was composed of duets, trios, group numbers, etc. From what I've read, critics prefer the mini-concert style, but I dunno, the various combos and costumes last year were pretty fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I was a Castro fan, so he was my favorite part of the show, but I have to say that everyone from Chikeze to David Cook did really well. Funny thing: When David Cook was done with his last song, he jumped down from the front of the stage and stepped up on the fence in front of the first row. As he was up there, some woman run up and gave him a huge hug...like totally wrapped her arms around him. But since he was above her, she ended up hugging his thighs...which I think must have been strange for David Cook. It looked funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting out of the Target Center ramp was horrible. Actually, gettng into the Target Center itself sucked too. I like the set-up at Excel much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I took a billion pictures. I haven't had time to look at them yet, but when I get them all cropped and uploaded, I will provide a link.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:109400</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/109400.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=109400"/>
    <title>bad things and sorta silver-like linings</title>
    <published>2008-08-28T16:16:51Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-28T16:20:14Z</updated>
    <category term="pool"/>
    <category term="crime"/>
    <category term="car"/>
    <category term="gps"/>
    <content type="html">When I got to the transit station after work last night, I found that someone had broken into my car. Shattered the driver's-side front window. Darn it all. Stole my GPS. Noooooo! I loved that GPS! I am so directionally challenged, and that GPS was a godsend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then when T came to the parking ramp to save me, he told me that the heater on the pool went out. Nooooo! Double-stuff crappy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have to look on the bright side. At least the car itself didn't get stolen. At least I wasn't there when the crappy-azz punk was breaking in. And it made me realize once again how wonderful T is. He called the police and the insurance office for me. He knew where the serial number of our GPS unit was. He waited in the parking ramp with me the &lt;i&gt;hour&lt;/i&gt; it took the police to get there. He cleaned up the glass as best he could and drove my car home while I took his. This morning he drove me to the transit station even though he would normaly not have had to get up for hours. He's a really great guy, and I am lucky to have him in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the pool, well, yeah, it sucks about the heater...but I'm grateful that we even have a heated pool in the first place...so, yeah, I guess there's that.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:109104</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/109104.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=109104"/>
    <title>You are what you do</title>
    <published>2008-08-27T15:29:17Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-27T15:32:00Z</updated>
    <category term="parenting"/>
    <category term="work"/>
    <category term="clarinet"/>
    <category term="self-improvement"/>
    <category term="exercise"/>
    <content type="html">I came across this phrase yesterday: &lt;i&gt;You are what you do.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was part of some little self-help/tough-love/pep-talk type book that I may or may not order. But I've been trying to keep this thought solidly in my brain the past 24 hours. It's common sense, really: The road to hell is paved with good intentions and all, meaning the road to a fat azz is paved with unused gym memberships that you will use "soon," the road to a mushy brain is paved with unopened books you are going to get to, and the road to a crappy social life is paved with great ideas for outings that never materialize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working out again for almost two weeks now. Really not that long, but I can already feel a difference. I doubt anyone could tell by looking at me, but I had been at &lt;i&gt;that point&lt;/i&gt;...you know, when most of your pants are feeling awkward and buttons on your shirts start to strain. But now, things are a lot more comfortable. Heh, this exercising-and-watching-what-you-eat stuff really works! Remarkable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so there are other areas of my life I'd like to work on. There are other things I'd like to &lt;i&gt;be.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better clarinetist: means I have to have a more defined practice schedule, including time spent on scales and basic exercises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better pool player: may sound silly, but we have a darned pool table in our house, and T always wants to play pool when we go out, but I don't because I suck. OK, that doesn't have to be the case. (I just hate practicing stuff I suck at.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better worker: the biggest thing is getting up on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better dressed: pick out clothes for the week on Sunday night perhaps? So everything is ironed and ready? Would probably help with getting to work on time too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better mom: too many things to improve on to name completely here, but a good start would be doing more stuff with the kids, nabbing them away from the TV/computer more often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish myself luck, and I hope I can give myself a good azz-kicking when/if I start to make excuses instead of real progress.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:108927</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/108927.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=108927"/>
    <title>Kids Don't Follow</title>
    <published>2008-08-26T17:02:16Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-26T22:19:10Z</updated>
    <category term="bars"/>
    <category term="the replacements"/>
    <category term="youth"/>
    <content type="html">The other day, I popped in a best-of CD I have: &lt;i&gt;Don't You Know Who I Think I Was?,&lt;/i&gt; by the Replacements. It's hard to wrap my head around the Replacements being kind of old-school these days, but ultimately I have to accept that as the truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, tell me you know the beginning of the song "Kids Don't Follow"! It's a bit that was recorded at some warehouse party from the early days. The Replacements were playing too loudly and the police showed up. The audio from that is hilarious, with the police sounding decidedly unmenacing, more like they were simply annoyed with the noise and they just wanted all the kids to grab their stuff and go home. No badass tactics wanted or needed; just, fer the luva pete, kids, cut it out and go home already. So quaint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, back when the drinking age was still 19 in Minnesota and kids could still sneak into bars if they put their minds to it...or if the bouncer didn't really care, which was often the case. I tell the younguns that, but I'm not really sure if they believe that it used to be that way. Getting carded was a sort of 50-50 chance you could take. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I was at a restaurant at age 14 (the Nankin! anyone remember that one?), the waiter &lt;i&gt;asked me&lt;/i&gt; if I wanted anything from the bar...lol, the only drink I knew by name was a strawberry daquiri, so that's what I had. I didn't really drink back then, but, heck, if it was going to be offered to me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember at age 17 going downtown with my friends and trying to get into clubs. We may get carded at one, but there always seemed to be another somewhere that would let us in. Yes, this was back when Block E was still pretty raunchy-looking. I didn't really drink at age 17, either, but it was fun to pretend to be so grown up, dancing to the loud techno music and all the flashing lights. I still recall when a guy almost threw up on me. He missed me, but I can picture the shocked look on the guy's face who he dumped the contents of his stomach on...good times, good times.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:108642</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/108642.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=108642"/>
    <title>Gender issues</title>
    <published>2008-08-25T15:52:45Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-26T22:20:55Z</updated>
    <category term="makeup"/>
    <category term="girl-child"/>
    <content type="html">The Girl-Child and I were messing around with my makeup. She's 10, 11 in October, so she's not quite old enough to be wearing makeup to school or anything. But she wanted to experiment, and I think it's better that she gradually figures out what works on her face over the next couple years or so than simply to throw her into the cosmetics den all at once as a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were applying eye shadow, and I started to tell her that eventually she'll want to start plucking her eyebrows. Our conversation when approximately thusly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah, you'll want to get all these little hairs on the bottom here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl-Child: Pull them out? Won't that hurt?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, honey, yes, it will. Very much. But it will open up your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl-Child: [holding a bottle of foundation.] Well, can't I just put this stuff on to cover up the hairs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, that won't work. Actually, you should probably get your brows waxed the first time so you have a line to follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl-Child: That sounds painful too. K [her best friend] got her eyebrows waxed once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What did she say about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl-Child: She said it hurt like crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah, ummm, it does hurt like crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl-Child: Then why will I want to do this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: It totally opens up your eyes! And it hurts very, very much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl-Child: When you pluck them, does it last a long time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Not really. You have to keep doing it all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl-Child: [laughing] Why do I want to do this again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: [laughing, too, at the silliness of it all and snapping a pair of tweezers toward her] It's extremely painful! And it opens up your eyes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl-Child: [in mock horror] Aaaaargh! Get away from me!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:108485</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/108485.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=108485"/>
    <title>American Idols tour</title>
    <published>2008-08-22T04:04:25Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-27T14:30:39Z</updated>
    <category term="american idol"/>
    <content type="html">You know I love &lt;i&gt;American Idol.&lt;/i&gt; Well the American Idols tour is coming to Minneapolis 08/31. The last two years I've gone to the concert, always getting tickets at the last minute. Why? Because that's when you can get the good deals, baby! You see, right before a concert, all the promoters who were holding on to primo seats release the tickets they do not need to use. About six or seven days before a concert, you can usually get incredible seats at face value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been checking Ticketmaster for weeks now, waiting until the Great Ticket Dump to begin. I knew it was coming, but I started to panic anyway. This morning, sure enough, some tickets became available and I nabbed three of the five I would need. Problem is, T also found five great seats together...and he also nabbed them. I got his text ("Whatever you do, don't buy tickets! I bought some!") too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, now we have eight tickets to the American Idols concert. And we only need five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone want three really good tickets to the American Idols concert in Minneapolis on 08/31? You can have them at face value! :-)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:jgoode:108178</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/108178.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://jgoode.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=108178"/>
    <title>So much fun</title>
    <published>2008-08-19T18:59:02Z</published>
    <updated>2008-08-27T14:31:37Z</updated>
    <category term="life time fitness"/>
    <category term="exercise"/>
    <content type="html">Wow, that was totally kick-ass fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The noon class at Life Time was called "Strictly Strength." I was expecting to use hand weights, the body bar, the dynoband...that kind of thing. But it wasn't the regular instructor; the guy running the class was a trainer who was filling in at the last minute. To be honest, I wasn't too sure if I was going to like the class, but this guy was in &lt;i&gt;excellent&lt;/i&gt; shape, so I figured he must know a thing or two about working out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had us doing all these yoga/pilates/martial arts type exercises--the kind that are slow, deliberate, muscle/balance/core heavy and that you really have to think about as you are doing them. I like having to be aware of every body movement, because otherwise I get bored very easily (hence my dislike for the treadmill). He tried to get everyone to do six cartwheels at the end of class. OMG, I cannot do a cartwheel. I couldn't do a cartwheel even when I was a kid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, it's looking better and better for me joining Life Time, because that class really put a smile on my face.</content>
  </entry>
</feed>
