<?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-5791046103500616844</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:42:00.909-08:00</updated><category term='sandbox'/><category term='movies'/><category term='lobster'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='tis the season'/><category term='wine'/><category term='old men'/><category term='sodas'/><category term='truth'/><category term='porn'/><category term='chocolate'/><category term='cheating'/><category term='nintendo'/><category term='play date'/><category term='safety first'/><category term='damn'/><category term='maintenance'/><category term='tv'/><category term='dating'/><category term='wisdom from friends'/><category term='bad decisions'/><category term='bed bugs'/><category term='lost'/><category term='cookies'/><category term='primping'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='random'/><category term='music'/><category term='games'/><category term='kama sutra'/><category term='gift giving'/><category term='coke'/><category term='groceries'/><category term='sleep tight'/><category term='toys'/><category term='art imitating life'/><category term='baby makin'/><category term='sick day'/><category term='secretary'/><category term='bad game'/><category term='I still got it'/><category term='I said good day'/><category term='food'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='UK slang'/><category term='check up on it'/><category term='New Rules'/><category term='nip/tuck'/><category term='dorkdom'/><category term='dazed and confused'/><title type='text'>Cherry Sundae</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-6859723258556758137</id><published>2009-03-16T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T06:36:51.661-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sandbox'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='games'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nintendo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='play date'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toys'/><title type='text'>A child at heart...</title><content type='html'>I had a house guest recently, and their visit illuminated a very interesting story arch in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, I was kind of a quiet kid. I was outwardly sociable; I had plenty of &lt;strike&gt;superficial&lt;/strike&gt; friends at school and had an enthusiastic personality, but somehow I usually ended up playing at home alone on weekends. I had all the cool toys and games. I had the Nintendo w/ the Power Pad and the Power Glove, I had the Super Nintendo with the Super Scope. If there was a hot board game, I had that. Top of the line swing set, and a killer sandbox, but usually I found myself playing in it by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having all the greatest toys and owning the top score on all the games is pointless when the most fun/challenge is had with 2 or more players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So recently I had a house guest and with &lt;i&gt;"childlike enthusiasm"&lt;/i&gt; I showed him some of my favorite toys and we played a few of my favorite games. I think I proved that I'm nice with a joystick and I can rope it up w/ the best of them playing cowboys and indians... &lt;i&gt;I love role playing games.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been one to "bribe" my way into friends. I don't openly advertise the attractions at Cherry's playhouse. &lt;b&gt;It is not Six Flags; everyone is not invited.&lt;/b&gt; As a kid I never walked around going "I have this game and that toy and a jungle gym this big and huge maracas..." &lt;i&gt;(Okay so maybe I do admittedly flaunt the maracas a bit, but can u blame me... they are pretty awesome)&lt;/i&gt; ;o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... I think my playroom is full of fun surprises for those who venture inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had grand fun, but now things have see-sawed back to normal....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that my play date is over, it's back to playing alone in my sandbox, and that's... sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-6859723258556758137?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/6859723258556758137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=6859723258556758137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/6859723258556758137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/6859723258556758137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2009/03/child-at-heart.html' title='A child at heart...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-2011439717086259590</id><published>2009-03-16T06:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T06:25:21.287-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Rules'/><title type='text'>NEW POSTING POLICY</title><content type='html'>Okay so I've been TERRIBLE at this whole blogging regularly thing.  So I've decided to set new rules for myself.  Originally my concept was to blog weekly and post every Sunday.  What I've found however is that it's impossible for me to just set aside time to write on Sunday and then post.  So... from here on out I'm just going to blog when the spirit moves me, but post primarily on Sundays.  I think that will work much better for me :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-2011439717086259590?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/2011439717086259590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=2011439717086259590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/2011439717086259590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/2011439717086259590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-posting-policy.html' title='NEW POSTING POLICY'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-679748392205550651</id><published>2008-12-28T19:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T20:22:17.800-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='damn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad decisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sodas'/><title type='text'>I Should've Had a V8...</title><content type='html'>So after 4 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days, I finally gave in...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I said I'm brand loyal, and I'm definitely a Coke drinker but dammit I needed a soda!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So... I finally said fuck it!  Well, not quite... I didn't run out and pick up a Pepsi.  It seems so popular nowadays but it's too sweet.  I also wasn't going to run out and grab a Shasta or Safeway Select brand cola.  I can't just drink anything.  I couldn't bring myself to event consider a Rock Creek cola... it's way too hood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I happened upon an RC Cola.  I remember back in the day I used to really liked RC Cola.  It felt really outdated, but I looked at it like vintage as opposed to a throw back.  I rationalized that sometimes it's good to take it back.  Maybe I should reminisce a bit... WRONG!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At first it seemed cool...  The&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; idea&lt;/span&gt; of an RC Cola sounded tempting.  It had been quite some time since I had one and I remembered a time when I was all about RC Cola.  I knew exactly where to find it.  Then I was over it and I stopped drinking sodas alltogether for a while.  But then earlier this year I got on a Coke kick and decided that was what I liked.  Don't get me wrong, I'm a cola girl, but every cola has a different character to it.  Subtle things that make one better than the other... and Coke just seemed to have all the right features.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It might be because I had an RC and kinda expected it to be a Coke or maybe they're just not making RC like they used to, but it just didn't hit the spot.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I drank it.  I finished it, but... I knew like two sips in that it was not what I wanted.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like a cola strong.  One that has a kick to it.  I like Coke cause it catches you in the chest.  Every sip makes you pause and consider it.  You can't 1/2 mindedly drink a Coke.  It commands your full attention.  It's a bold drink.  It's forceful.  It has staying power, and keeps it's fizz.  It's also quenching.  It satisfies.  It doesn't need any bells or whistles... it doesn't need a twist of lemon, or even ice for that matter... (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;though I'm known for putting a cherry on top mine, but that's just cause everything is better with a cherry ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The RC was kinda aiight... I guess.  The first sip was good, but then it kinda fell flat from there.  It wasn't how I remembered it, it just turned out to be not what I wanted to drink but it was there,  it was open, I was super thirsty, so I half-heartedly finished it and then tossed it out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*SIGH*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If nothing else I think it kinda killed my craving for soda all together for a while.  I find myself quite disillusioned and considering cutting back again... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-679748392205550651?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/679748392205550651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=679748392205550651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/679748392205550651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/679748392205550651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-shouldve-had-v8.html' title='I Should&apos;ve Had a V8...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-5215187836705635115</id><published>2008-12-10T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:24:03.449-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dorkdom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;It's the most wonderful time of the yeeeearrr!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I have a confession to make... I am the biggest dork when it comes to Christmas.  They say it's was better to give than receive ::pause::  but I'm a big fan of giving and receiving ::double pause::.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday I curled up on the couch and watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Charlie Brown Christmas&lt;/span&gt;.  Yesterday on my way home there was a doowop caroling group assembled on the platform where I transfer trains.  Though they sounded a bit like they were rehearsing for Cadence:  The Christmas Special, it still put a little bounce in my step.  When I arrived at home I was pleased to find my first Christmas card of the season in my mailbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling a bit behind.  I just ordered my Christmas cards yesterday and normally the would have been in the mail.  I'm not as close to done with shopping as I'd like and my house is free of fa la la la.  Starting on Friday however, I plan to let my cup of holiday cheer runneth over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting up bright and early to order some last minute gifts for the kiddies from Amazon.  I also need to renew my Rhapsody subscription, at least for the month, so I can get my Christmas music on (check for that blog this weekend).  Then, after work I'm headed to finish off my shopping and pick-up some wrapping and decorating supplies.  I'll hit up Whole Foods for some fresh garland (yes, real live pine, not that artificial shit) to wrap around the porch.  When it warms up against the lights the whole front of the house smells like a pine cone.  Then I'll go by the Container Store to pick up boxes and ribbon &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I bought my wrapping paper 3 weeks ago... DON'T JUDGE ME!)&lt;/span&gt;.  Yes... I make my own bows by hand for my gifts...  I take pride in my presents and I wrap with care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I'm taking my niece to take pictures with Santa and then to the ballet to see the Nutcracker!  It's her first time :)  I love the Nutcracker!!!  Afterwards, when I get home, I'll put up my tree and get to decorating the house for the holidays and wrap up all my gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooo... and I need to pick out my holiday party outfits.  So far I have 4 to go to.  Yay Christmas!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-5215187836705635115?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/5215187836705635115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=5215187836705635115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/5215187836705635115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/5215187836705635115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.html' title='It&apos;s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-6911099264571952883</id><published>2008-12-08T10:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:58:06.018-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='damn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Press Play...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;"&gt;::Cue Ms. Jackson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tired of being number 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"&gt; I can do what she can't do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"&gt; So much betta I'm for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"&gt; So so much betta I'm for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Why, oh WHY?!?  Do men choose to date subpar women?!  I'm tired of being passed over.  Most of the men I've kicked it with in the the last few years have decidedly not wanted to persue anything serious with me and then within months end up dating some random ass chick.  What is that about?  And to add insult to injury the turn into long term entanglements, and I'm looking at the girl, and then at myself and find myself saying "are you fucking kidding me?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Prime example.  This kid I used to be into was dating this one girl off an on for years.  He has aspirations of being a lawyer or even President someday but he stayed dating this balled-up brawd and I keep thinking "how does she really fit into your future?"  You can't take a chick w/ a gel weave to the office holiday party and introduce her to the firm partners as your "better half".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Forget your basic upgrade... let me revitalize your circumstances.  Is your life stagnat, well instead of letting that mosquito of a girlfriend suck all the life force out of you ::pause::  let me help you help yourself.  The season isn't over, let's review the tape, pull out the play book and plan our strategy.  I'm allergic to mediocrity, if I catch you slippin I will help you step it up.  At the same time if you're on point I will be sure to have my shit together.  I always play my position.  Need me to be eye candy for evening... got you.  Need me to be a boss and bad bitch my way into that item the store said was unavailable... no problem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;::cue Kimmy::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Does she do it like me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Does she work that body?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Throw that ass like pu-pump-pump-pu-pump that hottie...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Why are you calling me, texting me, emailing me, smoke signalling trying to get in my panties if you are so happy with your girlfriend, wife, boorilla, whateva? Dating someone who can't float your boat is stupid. My platinum walls are plush, my lips are lucious and my liquids are libatious. I'm the big body benz, I'm an investment, 20 years from now you'll still be jocking my sleek lines, cushy interior and dazzling headlight. However you cheaped out and bought a Hyundai... no matter how you look at it it's still a Hyundai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;::cue Fionna::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I'll let you see me, I'll covet your regard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I'll invade your demeanor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And you'll yield to me like a scent in the breeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And you'll wonder what it is about me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Please don't confuse me with dog, I'm different... My thoughts exactly Jay.  I may not be your typical type.  I many not have been what you were looking for at all but admit... you still like me.  Just go with!  I'm not typical in any way or fashion and men seem to run away from what isn't the norm.  Why is that?  I don't have a problem with letting you me, flaws and all.  I'll play into whatever game you like to play.  I love being submissive and I'll give you all of my attention... but don't get upset when I know you like the back of my hand and can see through all your game and bullshit.  That's the way it works.  The mirror goes both ways.  The more I let you see of me, the more of you I get to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;Most bitches can't hold a candle to me.  Fact.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have a certain je ne sais quoi and you won't ever forget me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;::cue Badu::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want too feel me baby&lt;br /&gt;Better be divine&lt;br /&gt;Bring me water for these flowers&lt;br /&gt;Growing out my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me nothin' just be gentle&lt;br /&gt;Breathe love in my air&lt;br /&gt;Use me, don't abuse me, love me&lt;br /&gt;Cause these herbs are rare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself sitting on my couch this weekend, and took stock of my life.  I'm 27, college educated (at one of the top 3 schools in my field no less), gainfully employed and have no kids.  I'm well rounded, not hoodie but street savvy.  I can throw down in the kitchen, in the bedroom, and in the boardroom.  I take care of myself, I try to keep it taunt (we're working on tight), I take my vitamins, keep my hair, nails and toes, correct.  I'm sweet, thoughtful and caring.  I like sports, I like the arts.  Though not a home owner, I will most likely inherit the building I currently occupy... so... where's the down side?  Why am I still single?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno why but I do know I'm not settling for bullshit.  I don't kick it to just anyone.  It takes someone special to catch my interest which is why I think I find it so disappointing when I find someone I think is a contender, who will really challenge me as a partner, decides to take a lower card when they could be in the title fight.  I want someone who will nurture me as I nurture them.  I'm special so I want someone just as special...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;In closing I will quote myself from an away message I crafted in undergrad:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What other woman do you know can hold her own in any conversation from discussions on the latest hip-hop battle to Lysistrata and classical greek literature.  Can recite the first 16 bars of Nigga What Nigga Who, or the first 16 lines to Chaucer's Canterbury tales in Old English.  Loves Bvlgari jewelry, but can't live w/o amber &amp;amp; silver rings.  Loves indie and foreign flicks, but would be content watching Xmen on the WB saturday morning.  Who is comfortable enough to go out and buy porn and dare someone to say something, but is still wholesome enough to introduce to your moms.  Who else can cook a gourmet meal and find you the best Chardonnay you've ever had for less than $20.  A chick who doesn't talk shit, just does her thing.  In Biggie's words "heard she can suck a good dick and cook a steak up"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-6911099264571952883?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/6911099264571952883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=6911099264571952883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/6911099264571952883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/6911099264571952883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/12/press-play.html' title='Press Play...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-3058190445993664380</id><published>2008-11-19T08:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T10:42:20.874-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tis the season'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gift giving'/><title type='text'>Brown Paper Packages Tied-up w/ String...</title><content type='html'>So the Christmas season is upon us and I have begun my shopping.  I always get a little sad when Christmas shopping because I always see great men's gifts with no one besides my Daddy to give them to.  I've already hooked Dad up with a fly ass wool 3 button Ralph Lauren Top Coat.  Now if only I had a stocking to fill for someone special...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have a talent for gift giving.  It's one of my favorite things to do.  To me it's the best part of Christmas (yes even better than receiving).  There's nothing more awesome to see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;someones&lt;/span&gt; face light all up and knowing that you put that glow there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I don't have anyone significant to lavish upon, I figured I'd put together a quick guide to some of my favorite gift ideas for those who are gifting challenged:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me the key to successful gift selection is honing on the things your boo loves then most and then finding the best whatever that is... here are some examples -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hood men -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Does your sweetie rock a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt; 24/7, 365?  Is he the type that will throw on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt; over his dress shirt?  Why not take him to the next level w/ this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRD4ioBlYI/AAAAAAAAAHk/-MqYXQduttE/s1600-h/furcaot.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRD4ioBlYI/AAAAAAAAAHk/-MqYXQduttE/s400/furcaot.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270412102576739714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Juicy Couture Reversible Fleece and Rabbit Fur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;oody&lt;/span&gt; - $675&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Walk Softly (but carry a big stick) -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm a big fan of slippers and I know quite a few men who are too.  There's nothing like rolling through the grocery store in sweats and slippers.  My philosophy is that if they didn't intend for you to wear them outdoors, then they wouldn't have put rubber tread on the bottoms.  If your honey's pair are looking raggedy around the edges, treat his tootsies to an upgrade:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRFjOnbdAI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6DZcPNGgJZk/s1600-h/slippers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 331px; height: 258px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRFjOnbdAI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6DZcPNGgJZk/s400/slippers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270413935451534338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Sampson Slipper by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ugg&lt;/span&gt; - $104&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or if he has the swag to pull it off, opt for these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRGFl8cTZI/AAAAAAAAAH0/8eKtqvq6Xao/s1600-h/102708_snopslipps_400x400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRGFl8cTZI/AAAAAAAAAH0/8eKtqvq6Xao/s400/102708_snopslipps_400x400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270414525829238162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Stubbs&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Wootton&lt;/span&gt; Slippers - $350&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Legalize it - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you boo likes to take a toke, instead of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Zippo&lt;/span&gt; lighter that he's likely to loose, opt for these:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRXSRQspjI/AAAAAAAAAH8/2JWaCrO94d0/s1600-h/102708_initialmatch_400x400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 313px; height: 313px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRXSRQspjI/AAAAAAAAAH8/2JWaCrO94d0/s400/102708_initialmatch_400x400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270433435313022514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;For Your Party Monogram Matches - $48/Set of 50&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Stuntin&lt;/span&gt; is a Habit - &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Are you dating a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;brotha&lt;/span&gt; that stays dapper.  Trump that tie clip he bought himself and they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;cuff links&lt;/span&gt; you picked up for his birthday by dazzling him with these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;pimpish&lt;/span&gt; male furnishings:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRXwAAAxzI/AAAAAAAAAIE/hZCUUC-nVgg/s1600-h/38009.7ECD1691.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 370px; height: 370px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRXwAAAxzI/AAAAAAAAAIE/hZCUUC-nVgg/s400/38009.7ECD1691.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270433946075711282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Tateossian&lt;/span&gt; Mother of Pearl Collar Stays - $48/pair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gym Rat - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you dating a muscle man who lives in the gym?  Does his body look great but his gym bag looks like he'd been using it as a punching bag?  Do you just have a bunch of extra cash lying around?  Then this gift is for you (for him):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRbYhlQ70I/AAAAAAAAAIU/Wfvh05Bn3Gw/s1600-h/marc-jacobs-bag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 308px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRbYhlQ70I/AAAAAAAAAIU/Wfvh05Bn3Gw/s400/marc-jacobs-bag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270437940819980098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Marc Jacobs &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Luxe&lt;/span&gt; Gym Bag - $850&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Protect Yo Paper -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I had a Black man explain to me recently that men (or at least Black men) are impervious to water (this was after I inquired as to why he was walking out in the rain w/ no umbrella and why he refused to stand under mine).  While he maybe be waterproof, I'm pretty sure his canvas messenger bag was not.  If you're dating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Aqua Man&lt;/span&gt;, get him some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;waterproof&lt;/span&gt; gear to go with his natural suit of armor:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRYkirdqKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/FyTKVZhE9eY/s1600-h/arsl02_gear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRYkirdqKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/FyTKVZhE9eY/s400/arsl02_gear.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270434848737962146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;SealLine&lt;/span&gt; Urban Bag - $149.95&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have more where this came from... check back for updates throughout the shopping season!! :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-3058190445993664380?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/3058190445993664380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=3058190445993664380' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/3058190445993664380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/3058190445993664380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/11/brown-paper-packages-tied-up-w-string.html' title='Brown Paper Packages Tied-up w/ String...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/SSRD4ioBlYI/AAAAAAAAAHk/-MqYXQduttE/s72-c/furcaot.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-4218384316643293752</id><published>2008-11-10T21:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T21:55:02.159-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='secretary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kama sutra'/><title type='text'>Curl Up With a Good Movie?!...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;There are some movies that just speak to me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Today I called in sick and spent then day in the house.  I just needed a "me" day.  It's been so long since I've watched my soaps that I struggled to really pay attention.  I decided to curl up under the covers and pop in a good movie.  I've been feeling lonely lately.  Something about the winter always makes me wish I had someone to cuddle up with.  Since I've been feeling less than optimistic about my love life I figured I'd watch my two favorite movies about love:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Kama Sutra:  A Tale of Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This is a movie about a woman and her journey to find what love is and isn't.  It's also about the haves and the have nots.  Yes, it's sexy and there's plenty of T&amp;amp;A, but if you can look past the jiggly things on the screen there's a really touching story there.  Every time I watch it I end up balling my eyes out at the end but it's dear to my heart and I could watch it over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;One my favorite quotes is from this film - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Knowing love, I can allow all things to come and go, to be as supple as the wind and to face all things with great courage. My heart is as open as the sky..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Here's a peek:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5VvSZ57tYIg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5VvSZ57tYIg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;the other movie I watched was...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Secretary -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This is a super dysfunctional love story that proves there's someone out there for everybody.  Yes it's dark, yes it's deviant, but I absolutely think it's one of the most romantic movies I've ever seen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(&lt;---- that statement, once you've seen the movie, may make you think I'm nuts but I don't care).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I think everyone wants to be accepted, flaws and all, and there's a great quote from this movie that embodies that - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Each cut, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;each scar, &lt;br /&gt;each burn...&lt;br /&gt;A different mood or time.&lt;br /&gt;I told him what the first one was,&lt;br /&gt;told him where the second one came from.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered them all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the first time, I felt... beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;finally part of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;I touched the soil,&lt;br /&gt;and he loved me back"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Take a gander at the opening &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(what?!, I said it was deviant)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/28W3d3brIf0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/28W3d3brIf0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-4218384316643293752?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/4218384316643293752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=4218384316643293752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/4218384316643293752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/4218384316643293752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/11/curl-up-with-good-movie.html' title='Curl Up With a Good Movie?!...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-6114704016438034136</id><published>2008-11-09T18:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T18:31:43.571-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep tight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bed bugs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wisdom from friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='safety first'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><title type='text'>Security Stick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I woke up this morning after I rather restless sleep.  I tossed and turned so much that I made a big rip in my 800&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tc&lt;/span&gt; (that stand for threat count for those not in the know) sheets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;me = pissed about it... guess I know what I'll be buying on payday ::sigh::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Anywho&lt;/span&gt;, my restless night reminded me of one of my good friends and her need/want of a security stick and how I too would like one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, I'm sure you're wondering what in the world a security stick is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Well...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Some people have security blankets, actual ones and other things that make them feel safe, like a crusty ass one-eyed teddy bear they've had since child hood, or a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;blankey&lt;/span&gt;, I have one friend who sleeps with a bible under her pillow.  Well a security stick would be that nice one between your man's legs, planted firmly against your back at night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I know... go ahead and giggle, but it's true.  Something about &lt;strike&gt;log&lt;/strike&gt; lump laying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;snugly&lt;/span&gt; behind you as you slumber just makes you sleep tight, and there's nothing that is really a good substitute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Like my girl said "there's nothing going to bed with a dick on your back."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Quote it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-6114704016438034136?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/6114704016438034136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=6114704016438034136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/6114704016438034136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/6114704016438034136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/11/security-stick.html' title='Security Stick'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-4930657032230329788</id><published>2008-11-09T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T08:49:03.730-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='damn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maintenance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='primping'/><title type='text'>Primpin' Ain't Easy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(was supposed to post this last week but got sidetracked by the election... Enjoy!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm a woman who's always taken her beauty routine seriously.  My mother was a cosmetologist and stressed the importance of skin care and presentation.  I noted in college how my daily routine had upgraded since high school, and now as I approach 30 in a few years, it seems things have advanced yet again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In high school I used to frustrate my mother daily.  I was a get up and go girl.  I'd jump in the shower 20mins before the bus was due to arrive.  I'd brush my teeth in the shower to save time, dry off, throw on lotion and deodorant, throw on clothes and comb my hair down on the way to the bus.  Hell, some mornings I'd keep on my scarf and just put a hat on and then do my hair on the way to school.  I recall the younger girls on the bus who were very impressed at my ability to do my make-up on the bus.  Despite all the rocking and bumps in the road I was able to line my eyes w/o stabbing myself in the cornea.  By the I reached home room I was ready to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In college this became more of a chore...  I went to school in the frozen tundra of Central New York.  This changed the game completely...  Throwing on lotion in the morning was no longer an option.  First I had to have a shower gel that was moisturizing.  Now I always used Dove.  Just plain ole soap was a no-no in my house.  One, cause my skin is sensitive and I'd break out in to a terrible rash, and two my skin would look like cracked earth in about 30 seconds.  In college we had such hard water that Dove was not gonna cut it.  I remember going through all types of changes.  Also, men were really a factor.  In high school I could care less about the nuccas at my hood ass school, but college was different.  I really got into the scented Vikki's shower gel and the body mist sprays and all that crap.  Then I had to give myself at least 20mins to lotion up.  We were strictly a Nivea household in college and that shit is like impossible to rub in, but at least you would be ashy when your skin met the Arctic winds outside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In college  there was also so much more preparation for going out.  Ugh... shaving... everywhere... eyebrow plucking, make-up, hair... it would take me at least 90mins to get ready to go out.  Also, being on a college budget meant doing it yourself.  So hair had to be done at home.  Eyebrows... better get a good pair of tweezers and sit reallly close to the mirror.  Make-up was usually the best of Wet N' Wild (for the men out there that's the cheapest shit they got at CVS),  with maybe one MAC lipstick thrown in the mix.  It was tough goings, but we worked it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Now I'm an adult... I have a job... and I'm getting older.  I wish I could find someone to shake bones over my face like Oprah does but so far I've had to put it all together myself...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let's start from the beginning... showering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Now as I've said, I've always been a Dove girl and now that I live in a place with normal temperatures I have been able to return to plain old Dove, but... a shower puff ain't gettin it no more.  If I want to skin to glow I have to exfoliate.  So I have special exfoliating gloves that I use daily.  If I had the money I'd get my Carol's Daughter on and have my Jamaican Punch Body Scrub on the ledge in the bathroom, but that shit is like $30 a jar and goes in about 2 weeks (if that).  We ain't ballin like that yet son... so the gloves will have to do.  They're a great solution but hard as hell to find.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Shaving... ugh.  until I get some more cash flow I'll be shaving my legs until I die I guess.  A BIC razor isn't gonna do it.  About 5 years ago God blessed us with the Venus razor.  I mean it truly changed my life.  I haven't cut myself shaving in years (knock on wood).  But they keep making upgrades and now it's kinda out of control.  I used the Venus razor with the moisture strip and the shaving gel built in.  It saves me time, but DAMN THAT SHIT IS EXPENSIVE!!!  Last time I checked razor refills are like $13 for 4.  WHAT THE FUCK!?!?  My sister and I go 1/2 on a pack.  For Christmas I might ask for that $40 multipack from Costco.  It's such a good deal but damn that seems like a lot to spend on razors.  ::sigh::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Now that I'm out the shower I must hurry and throw on some body oil.  I have about 60 seconds before my face gets dry so I must get to the sink to start my face routine, but by the time I'm done and go to put on lotion the skin on my legs will crack if I don't do something quick so I rub on some almond oil ($10) to give me a few extra minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Okay so now it's time for the face.  Ugh.  So I've always struggled with acne.  I have great skin but it's sensitive as hell.  I've done the dermatologist stuff, I did proactive, Murad.  Been there, done that.  I went for a facial recently ::pause:: and the woman told me I can't use chemicals on my face.  Now she's not the first person to tell me that but I like chemicals cause they work fast.  She also told me that I have to start using an eye cream.  REALLY?!?!  But I don't have any fine lines or crows feet?!?!  Apparently to keep it that way I have to start using an eye cream now... great, more shit and more $$$  So she sold me on this whole organic line of skincare shit.  I actually really like it, but since there's no chemicals I have to use it more often.  So I have a cleanser ($25) , then an exfoliating scrub ($26) every morning, followed by this under eye roller thing ($15) to prevent dark circles and puffiness, and I top it off ::double pause:: with my Oil of Olay ($12) with SPF (my mother swore by it and so do I).  That's not that bad, but then I have to rinse and repeat in the evenings and then put on a hydrating night lotion ($32) and I have a deep cleansing mask ($30) I have to use once every two weeks.  I also should go in for a facial ($80) every two months.  Yeah, that shit adds up.  I'm hoping all of said products will last for at least 4 months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;While I'm at the sink I might as well brush my teeth now.  I have sensitive teeth as well so I must brush with warm water.  I use the Colgate all in one with the tarter control, the stuff that makes your teeth less sensitive and mouth wash and breath strips all in one bottle ($4.50).  It's great, I've been using it since undergrad, no complaints.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Okay now to the couch to lotion up.  In a perfect world I'd be putting on my Carol's Daughter Shea Butter Body Souffle ($35), or some pure Shea Butter from the health food store ($18) but in this economy I've settled for Vaseline Intensive Care Cocoa and Shea Butter Body Cream ($12) or the lotion ($9) which ever is on sale.  I've said good-bye to body mists and scented lotions cause i'm tired of every heifer on the street smelling like me.  I've moved on to Fine Fragrances.  Now once again in a perfect world I'd have my Bond No. 9 Nuits de Noho ($180) but I'll settle for Delices de Cartier ($65) in the spring/summer and Tom Ford's Black Orchid ($60...down from $120 woooohooo!!!) in the fall/winter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Okay now I can get dressed.  We won't even get into how expensive all of the undergarments are or the clothes cause that's a whole nother blog.  But let's do a review of some of the other shit I didn't mention...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Waxing... Now I'm not a fan of a ton of hair below the belt... for me or him.  Actually I'm all about a man who parts with his pubes, but as long as it's well groomed I'm down ::pause::  As for me I prefer enough hair to feel like I'm an adult but not much more.  I don't like the landing strip or the Hitler as me and my friends refer to it.  A mid-sized triangle will do (is this TMI?!?!  Oh well...)  So I guess we'll call it a modified brazilian.  Now you can do it yourself or pay to have it done.  I've done both.  It's kind of a toss up.  If I do it I can get a kit for $12-15 but it'll take like 2-3 hours.  If I got to the spa it'll cost $40 but take 15mins or less.  So, it all depends on what the budget is, however it's a much better option than shaving.  Less bumps, less itchy and it lasts much longer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eyebrows... gone are the days of plucking at home.  Thank you Shiva for threading.  There is a wonderful indian woman on my way home from work who's started up a threading place in DC.  It's $12, not quite as cheap as the $8 I pay in NYC, but it's still worth it.  It's quick, easy, almost painless and much more exact than waxing which I've never been a fan of and grows back slower than a razor cut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Hair care... ugh... I hate how much haircare costs.  Be you permed or natural, it all costs money.  I went back to a perm because it's less time consuming (though I miss my fro... maybe when I'm making a bit more $$$ I'll grow it out again).  $75+ tip for a touch-up, wrap, and curl.  That's about a monthly expense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm done... I can't even get into make-up.  This shit is getting expensive.  My pockets hurt!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-4930657032230329788?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/4930657032230329788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=4930657032230329788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/4930657032230329788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/4930657032230329788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/11/primpin-aint-easy.html' title='Primpin&apos; Ain&apos;t Easy...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-3999486444443619380</id><published>2008-10-23T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T08:32:57.162-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cookies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chocolate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lobster'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='groceries'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Good Eats</title><content type='html'>I went grocery shopping the other day and my register receipt was as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pillsbury Break N Bake Cookies - 2.99&lt;br /&gt;Shiraz Cabernet - 5.64&lt;br /&gt;1 Gal. Spring Water - 1.29&lt;br /&gt;0.5lbs Lobster Claws - 4.45&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total: 14.37&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm impressed w/ my own bougieness... Lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing says late 20s and single like chocolate, wine, water and LOBSTER!  I had all the essentials.  The water keeps me hydrated, my skin fresh and my body healthy.  The chocolate chip cookies provide a little decadence.  I love savoring the fullness of a bold, perfectly aged red wine, makes me feel like a grown-up.  And the lobster gives that hint of luxury I was missing these last few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe what I'm looking for is a refreshing and well matured chocolaty man with a bent towards luxuriousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::giggle::&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-3999486444443619380?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/3999486444443619380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=3999486444443619380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/3999486444443619380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/3999486444443619380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/10/good-eats.html' title='Good Eats'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-2193991049337638926</id><published>2008-10-10T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T08:33:32.102-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='check up on it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art imitating life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I still got it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='porn'/><title type='text'>Janet Jack'Me?</title><content type='html'>I got a very interesting email from a former paramour yesterday.  Seems he had been introduced to a porn star that reminded him of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now some women might be offended by this, but with and alias like "Cherry Virtuocity", clearly I'm not of that ilk. I did however want to know who this bitch was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at work and I was certain a google image search for Kandee Lixx would produce all sorts of "not safe for work" content so I looked her up on my phone and surprisingly the first image that came up was a headshot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ::pause::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at Ms Lixx, I really saw no resemblance between us.  She has a fairer complextion, she was thinner, and rocking a long hawaiian silky (weave for those who don't know). About the only thing I could see that we had in common were big boobs (tittaaaaaays!!! ::doing a chest giggle::)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally decided to call my former boo (he hates that particular term of endearment..lol) and asked what in the WORLD about this chick reminded him of me.  Clearly I was missing something. Did we have similar labia?  I mean I just was kinda stumped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I waiting for him to pick up, in my head I could here him going on about how in some particular flick he'd seen, Ms Lixx &lt;strike&gt;attempted to&lt;/strike&gt; duplicated one of my signature suckles or some other feat of sexual acrobatics...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me if I had really taken a good look at her.  I tried to download one of her flicks on my computer at home, but I couldn't find any featuring Ms Lixx on Limewire.  He directed me to some random site and I was able to see the lady work.  So I'm watching this clip of her doing her thing and he began commentating, talking about her ass, the curve of her waist, her hips... Slowly I realized that in his head   ::pause::   this is what I looked like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I was certain that this was all just a pussy ploy, and yeah I'm sure it was in part, but also, he really sees my body like this.  I'm looking at this woman who in my opinion has a much better body than I do &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(though I think her makeup was over done, my hair is real and styled better and, in fact, my labia trump hers!)&lt;/span&gt; and here he is drooling over what he considers to be an okay substitute for the real thing (yes that would be me... I'm am in fact just like a bottle of Coke, curvy, classic and always a crowd pleaser).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an unexpected ego boost that came in a most unordinary form.  I guess I shouldn't be so critical of myself.  I am in fact, just as sexy as I think I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-2193991049337638926?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/2193991049337638926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=2193991049337638926' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/2193991049337638926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/2193991049337638926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/10/janet-jackme.html' title='Janet Jack&apos;Me?'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-8368078918061877922</id><published>2008-10-06T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T06:59:33.243-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad game'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='damn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I said good day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Marriage Vacation?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Last weekend I took a trip up to my alma mater for an alumni weekend thing and was shocked and slightly appalled at the number of hollers I got from married men...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;It was like they all took a "marriage vacation".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;They came in all shapes and sizes.  I had men with 3 kids, men w/ no kids, newlyweds and long time hubbies, all lookin to get laid.  None of them got any cookie, at least not from me.  But I was just quite amazed at the entire phenomenon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;They all had strikes against them, most obvious of which would be their spouses, but there were other issues:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Terribly outdated game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; - One dude tried the old "I'm a jackass" game.  Now this used to work when I was a freshman.  Fell for that shit hard.  He started off making a ton of asshole comments to throw me off my game and make me feel a bit insecure.  Then swooped in later that evening w/ an indecent proposal which is supposed to then make me feel all confident and pick me back up, tricking me into playing myself... AAAAHHHHNT!  WRONG!!!!  I'm 27 not 17.  Try again   ...oh and that he did.  He followed up with the guilt game.  He asked to sleep in my bed and acted like he was just asking something innocent... "what?!  why can't I just sleep in your bed?!" Then when I got tired of playing that game and told him I was going to bed and he should leave, I got the "damn, you just gonna kick me out?!?"  YES SIR!  I AM!  GOODNIGHT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Way Too Eager &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;- The one guy who had a fighting chance (until I remembered that he was recently married) was of course the youngest of the bunch.  He has a decent approach.  He managed to pop up randomly throughout the weekend, say something funny and/or cute and just keep it moving.  He didn't crowd me but always reminded me he was there and dote and flirt a bit.  Then waited til the last night to show me a bit more focused attention... but he fucked up by scrambling at the end of the night.  It was like his dick was gonna turn into a pumpkin at 2am.  He started running around the room like a man trying to save a sinking ship.  He must have run around to every woman on his "list" checking in, trying to make sure he had something for the night.  Soon as I saw him running around from chick to chick it was a wrap.  I couldn't understand why he was suddenly so desperate and then I remembered I'd heard he had got married a few months back.  I'm like WTF!?!?  You would think his whole reason for showing up was to get some ass other than what he had at home.  Like damn son!  Don't give me the impression that you packed your Trojans first.  That's not sexy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Take it from Daddy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; - So the oldest of the group tried to hit me with the "let me give you some advice (and some dick)" game.  He starts out by asking me if I'm single and then asking why and what my opinion was about the dating scene.  Here he's trying to woo me in by letting me talk (which most women love).  Then he starts to tell me about his wife.  I think this was somehow so supposed to make him seem less threatening, making me uh... "trust" him.  Then he starts to give me advice about not giving up on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;young&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; men... "Oh, how endearing... NOT!"  He ends by telling me all about his wonderful wife... while trying to play footsie with me and making jokes about what turns him on... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;::side eye:: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;back up Daddy... it's not going down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;strike&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I Want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; I've Got Your Back &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;- The most disturbing advances came from a former mentor of sorts.  Someone who I used to think of as more of an ally than a predator.  I was happy to see that person who looked out when I was struggling college kid.  But then he hugged me a bit too tightly, seemed a little too happy to see me and then leaned in at happy hour to say that he "always had my back and I should holla at him if I ever needed &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;" with extra emphasis and a side squeeze, AND bedroom eyes on that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;... NO YOU DIDN'T!?!?  Ugh!  See... now I can't ask you for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;ANYTHING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;, cause I know you want something.  What a disappointment!  And don't you have a wife and three kids!?!?!  Go home Roger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;My main issue is how just ok they felt about stepping out.  Like it was no big deal.  Men like them make it hard for women to trust their significant others, or rather, makes women feel foolish for doing so.  You don't get a new pussy pass just because you've traveled 50 or 500 miles from home!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Once again... damn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;anybody got any good news?  lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-8368078918061877922?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/8368078918061877922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=8368078918061877922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/8368078918061877922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/8368078918061877922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/10/marriage-vacation.html' title='Marriage Vacation?'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-5108513230801330581</id><published>2008-10-05T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T05:07:10.200-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art imitating life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nip/tuck'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='damn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><title type='text'>Throwback...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So I've been doing a bad job keeping up with my blogging.  I need to make time in my schedule to actually post regularly, but in the meantime I decided I'd bring over some posts from an older blog I had that fell by the wayside.   And I promise starting this week (pinky swear) I will update at least weekly :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Cherry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10.17.06 - WHY NOT A WHORE?...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;11:12pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(153, 51, 204);   font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I dunno if you watch Nip/Tuck (it's a great show), but tonight's episode kinda threw me for one.  You know how sometimes a show can like illustrate your worst fear, or maybe show you a truth you didn't wanna know... yeah, it was one of those episodes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;So there's this kid Christian on the show.  He's the guy every man wants to be; super arrogant, crazy cocky, a paid ass plastic surgeon, completely pampered.  He's has a ridiculous apartment and is always having some out of control sexual escapade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I've never been able to watch the show religiously, but in the last two seasons I've seen him have a number of threesomes with these ridiculously gorgeous women, the most recent of which was with a mother and daughter.  He's the biggest jack ass you've ever seen.  He slept w/ a big girl but made her wear a bag on her head... no literally I big brown paper bag...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;So, he's had this off and on relationship with this chick Kimber who's an off and on porn star (I'm sure you assumed that as soon as you read the name).  They're both equally fucked up, but somehow Christian always manages to screw Kimber over.  Everytime she leaves him and kinda gets her life together, he squirms his way back in.  Last season they got engaged and he went on this whole long thing about being in love with her and how he wasn't for monogomy but could be with her, "you complete me" the whole shpeel.  Oh, and of couse... he shitted on her not too long after that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;This season Kimber has REALLY gotten it together.  Okay, so she's become a scientologist... BUT she's content with her life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Christian on the other hand fell in love with this one chick then fucked it all up by being his jack ass self.  So what does he do next...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;That's right, he runs right to Kimber's house... no literally the same damn day.  He shows up drunk off his ass and looking pitiful.  So of course she lets him in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;He says he needs her help.  He figured maybe if Scientology helped her then maybe it will work for him.  He said all the things that sounded like he was ready to make a change in his life.  He was so helpless and in need.  Then he pushed up on her, gave her the "I know you want me.  Don't you still think about me?...blah, blah, talk panties off, blah"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;So Kimber gives in, they're fucking on the counter tops etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Cut to after.  Kimber is lounging all happy on the couch.  She walks to the bedroom and slides into the nook, looking all fulfilled and happy and says "let's just lock ourselves in and order takeout and make love all weekend", Christian says no, he has to go to work.  Kimber makes a second offer to meet up with him at her church.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Christian gets up to get dressed and says "are you fucking kidding me?  I'm not going to some wacko bullshit!"  She gets that confused look like "but you said..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Here's the priceless part:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Christian cuts her off, "I said what I always say... whatever it takes to get laid." (jack ass smirk on face)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Kimber retorts, "How can you be so cruel!  Why come to me?!?!? Why not just fuck one of your whores!!!!?!?!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;His response (this made me cringe), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;"Whores?, they just give you their body.  I needed more than that.  I needed to feel like the most important thing in the world.  So I came to you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;She then proceeded to smack the shit out of him and he kinda laughed her off and threw her on the bed and walked out...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Now, most dudes have NO WHERE NEAR the balls to say some shit like that and be that straight forward and blunt with someone...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;HOWEVER, damned if that shit didn't ring true some where.  I actually had to change the channel cause it really disturbed me.  I had to stop and think... is that why me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I've had so many of my female friends come to me with "why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Why did he lie?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Why does he play with my feelings?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Why does he always come back to me if he doesn't want to be with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;If he had a girl, was in love with her, was not interested, was not feeling me, if I wasn't the one, if I wasn't his type, if I wasn't x, y, or z?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Is it because we loved them?  Is it because we made them feel loved and they knew we'd give it to them without knowing for sure we'd get it in return?  Are they just using us?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;And though I know it's been said a million times, a million ways, seeing it like that... it was never truer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;... damn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-5108513230801330581?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/5108513230801330581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=5108513230801330581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/5108513230801330581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/5108513230801330581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/10/throwback.html' title='Throwback...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-6845699336792855825</id><published>2008-10-04T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T05:05:26.101-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='damn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dazed and confused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UK slang'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost'/><title type='text'>Where Am I?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;The one thing stuck on my brain this week has been the shaky state of my love life, or rather what exactly I'm doing in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;singledom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Do I like being single... yes and no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I have friends in all stages of relationships.  Married w/ kids, just married about to have kids, just married, engaged, not engaged (and not happy about it), together w/ a side of drama, kinda together, too close for comfort, too distant and slightly separate.  I'm getting to that point in life where it feels like everyone has something going on... but me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I'm ALWAYS single and I don't date, so I guess that doesn't help the situation much, but I've never really been one who dated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I went out to happy hour this weekend with no expectations of meeting someone, but I thought I'd at least find someone fun to flirt with... WRONG!  Now me, my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;homegirl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; and her friend all clearly "struck out" for the night but damn, they at least had bullshit hollers.  At one point I found myself suddenly dancing alone amongst my girls and their unwanted suitors and I felt like chopped liver.  I mean, my outfit was super cute and the girls looked fantastic, but suddenly I felt like an ass.  If it wasn't for the 9 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;pamaritas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; I knocked back I might not have had the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strike&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;liquid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; courage to keep &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;rockin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; to the beat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;It's like on one hand I don't want bullshit.  Every time I talk with my girls about their relationship drama I find myself saying "so glad that is NOT my life".  But on the other hand, it would be nice to see what the hell it's like to have someone to call and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;cooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; at, to go out with, to share and giggle with, to call and say dirty things to, to wake up with in the morning.  It takes two to tango and I'm tired of chair dancing on the sidelines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;The worst part is I have no idea if I'm doing something wrong and what that something might be.  Okay, I do admit that I'm picky... or well not so much picky but it's more that I don't go for your typical guy.  I don't just like someone cause they're cute or had on a nice outfit or have a certain type of job.  I'm drawn to personality.  Once I find one I like, I'm kinda hooked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;In the past 3 years I've been in 3... let's call them "situations" -- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;cause they sure as hell were not relationships&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;.  I feel like at some point in all three I was branded as "relationship girl".  At some point I either did &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;or was accused&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; wanting more than the other person was looking for in life at the time or from me.  Oddly enough, within a year all three were dating someone, and are still dating that someone.  It kind of makes me go "WHAT THE FUCK!??!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I'm not one to rush in.  I have been the stupid girl who got her feelings all invested and got all caught up in some man who was completely in capable of having a functional, let alone committed relationship.  I loved him to death and he became one of my closest friends but he hurt me more than anyone (second only to maybe myself) and though he was a JACKASS (big big big jackass) I made a ton of mistakes.  I've forgiven myself for most of them.  I was young, naive, and inexperienced.  Now that I'm older I'm more realistic about men and relationships but even then it's hard to keep picking myself up from rejection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Last two guys I was interested in really disappointed me.  The first guy was a good friend and so I took him and I gave him the benefit of the doubt a little too much.  We rushed in.  I slept with him way before I should have, mostly because it had been forever and I let Cherry lead me astray, but I feel like that shouldn't really matter.  Either you are interested in someone or you aren't.  It's not that complicated, but he basically when I asked, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;is there anything going on between us that wasn't between the sheets,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; he said, while he wasn't looking for a relationship, he was up for hanging out more and seeing where things went.  So... yeah that never happened.  The increased time together never happened and after months of him telling me one thing and doing another, I eventually was just completely over the situation.  It was the first time I actually just completely lost interest in someone.  It was sad.  He showed up one day ready to hang out and that tingly feeling had disappeared and I would preferred a nap.  So, I walked away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Following that I didn't happen upon anyone I was really attracted to until I ran into an old well I guess we'll go with "crush" for lack of a better word.  Well... nah that's not quite it... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Let's go with... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;a guy I thought had potential&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;.  He was cool, I definitely thought he was someone I could kick it with, but last we crossed paths &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strike&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;bumped uglies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; he made a jackass out of himself.  At the time I blamed it on him being young and so I decided it had been a few years, why not try again.  We hooked up.  It was fun.  I wasn't interested in anything more, or rather after our last incident I didn't want to chance anything past a physical connection cause I was not trying to deal with any bullshit.  Things were going great until I named the puppy (Friends reference, either you got it or you didn't).  I found out that the potential &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;ie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;., that he was actually a person I'd date, was really there.  So I was stuck cause I started to like him, not in terms of feelings... wasn't there yet, but I thought he was someone I wouldn't mind getting to know more (yeah it would have been great to make that determination before we started showing each other our "Oh" faces, but sometimes it doesn't happen that way).  I decided I'd give it a month to see if the "like" thing passed.  I am a woman and sometimes I do get wrapped up in the idea of someone, so I like to give myself time to process before acting on things.  So once I determined it wasn't just a passing notion, I would like to let my guard down a little, get to really know this person and see them more often... they pop up with a relationship...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I was gobsmacked.  Truly just gobsmacked...  My feelings weren't hurt (maybe my ego was a bit) but mostly I was just disappointed.  Here it had taken me almost a year and a 1/2 to identify someone I'd actually consider maybe dating and now... they're taken.  UGH!... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;BUZZKILL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;So now I'm back to where I was I guess and just kinda at a loss.  I totally didn't see that coming and now I'm just stunned.  Where the hell am I gonna meet someone I'd like?!?  And in the meantime it was like "damn, no more dick, until... ::crickets::  DAMN!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I already know that the bar/club/lounge scene is not at all where it's at.  I was advised recently to go to a Sports Bar but I think I might be too lazy for that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;.  Today I watched the game on my couch, in a t-shirt and boy shorts, no bra (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;ahhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; freedom), with a bag of cheese popcorn.  It was awesome!!!  I yelled at the TV, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; my boy to see how the Giants were doing, said a prayer or two about Dallas falling apart so I could heckle some co-workers on Monday and it was great.  I didn't have to curl my hair, put on make-up, pick out clothes, hell... I didn't even have to shower.  It was a nice relaxing Sunday.  Just like I don't always feel like spending my Saturday getting ready for the club, I don't want to spend my Sunday out hunting for men. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Why can't I just skip ahead to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;sittin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; on the couch sharing my popcorn w/ my boo/boyfriend/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;hunny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;/baby/whatever and talking shit about my team and/or cheering on our team?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I'm tired of rolling &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;dolo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; but have no motivation to get out there and "find" somebody...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Also, I don't just jump into bed w/ anyone and there is no one waiting in the wings... FUCK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Where am I and what the hell am I doing?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;*checkout the Single Girl's Blues &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;playlist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; (hey, at least I'm not snuggled up w/ a bottle of wine and a Mary CD &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-6845699336792855825?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/6845699336792855825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=6845699336792855825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/6845699336792855825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/6845699336792855825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/10/where-am-i.html' title='Where Am I?'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791046103500616844.post-3502346030233929349</id><published>2008-08-25T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T11:10:59.650-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby makin'/><title type='text'>We're not makin' love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This week I've been celebrating my return to the virtual world by diving headfirst into one of my favorite past times; downloading music and making playlists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;* (side note: so the gatekeepers over at Verizon have managed to somehow block me from using Limewire and my old trust Bearshare has been severely downgraded in the 369 days since I last logged in... If anyone else knows a good option please hit me up)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make all manner of playlist but my personal favorite has always been the Baby Makin Mix. The Baby Makin Music is a strictly R&amp;amp;B mix for makin’ &lt;em&gt;(or in most of our cases, practicing)&lt;/em&gt; babies. I have three existing volumes &lt;em&gt;(checkout a taste of them on the right; note there are some songs I couldn’t find online, and a few tasty interludes that I couldn't replicate but something is better than nothin)&lt;/em&gt; the first was a masterful mix of some of my favorite moisture inducing tracks from high school and my freshman year. The second was a smoother compilation, paying tribute to the “grown and sexy” movement. The third and my personal favorite was a throwback to the original masters of baby makin, a libido stirring, soulful concoction, fueled by the instrumentation of the soul music of the 1970s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sat at the terminal in the confines of my laboratory, ready to cast another spell of intoxication and brew my musical stew... when I found myself stumped, stymied (&lt;em&gt;and slightly tipsy, 1/2 way into a great bottle of Chardonnay)&lt;/em&gt; with very little progress. I was discovering there weren't many songs worthy of a mix. Generally I approach my mixes like you would a good piece of jewelry. I browse through albums and select the gems that stand out from each artist’s catalog. Then I go through and pick out the ones that shine but also complement each other, and then carefully and thoughtfully arrange them to craft the perfect mix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This process was road blocked at step one. I was digging for pearls in the rubble of the house that love built. What is really good with 3&amp;amp;B and soul music today?! Carl Thomas… what happened? I heard you were last seen w/ a 40 in one hand, and a j in the other, in a corner of Puff's garage. Then you came back with a super sub-par album… Damn! If 112 made it to a second album, so can you! Maxwell? Is that you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RW_L69tyj0M"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Crawl from under that bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; w/ that crusty ass stiletto &lt;em&gt;(you know you remember that video)&lt;/em&gt; and get back to what you do best...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to the backseat slow jams? The track that's supposed to get me wide open and willing to rock anytime, anyplace? I know there have been a handful of radio hits but seriously folks, Falsetto is not a panty dropper. I love I Luv Your Girl, so no disrespect to The-Dream, but Bed is close but no cigar [insert your own inappropriate Monica Lewinski joke].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's out now in R&amp;amp;B?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That kid who sings falsetto&lt;/strong&gt; -- the fact that I can't remember his name says it all &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lloyd&lt;/strong&gt; – he’s good for a catchy seat dance in the car/flirty grind in the club track, but that’s about it &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lyfe Jennings&lt;/strong&gt; -- after that S.E.X. nonsense I can see that his attempts to be relevant will keep him from being relevant to this conversation &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Usher&lt;/strong&gt; – his new album is just like his choice in women… disappointing &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ne-yo&lt;/strong&gt; – too tangy to tango to (I know… great alliteration… if you don’t know what that is ::pause:: do better!) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alicia Keys&lt;/strong&gt; – some good songs to dance to w/ your boo at your cousin’s wedding, or post up on your myspace when you have a new crush, but no baby makers &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chris Brown&lt;/strong&gt; – I’m not taking my clothes off to songs sung by children &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pretty Ricky&lt;/strong&gt; – … let’s not even discuss this just insert a rant about fuckery [here] &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;T-Pain&lt;/strong&gt;?!?! – Hells No!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are the crooners? Is no one willing to sing a sista’s panties off anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dug into the crates like Scarlet O’Hara after they burned down Terra and pulled up a few yams to keep me from going hungry &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I know… bizarre reference, but if you have seen Gone With the Wind, you know it works!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s what I got:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jill Scott&lt;/strong&gt; – Come See Me, Crown Royal, Epiphany&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Robin Thicke&lt;/strong&gt; – Teach You a Lesson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Raheem DeVaughn&lt;/strong&gt; – You, Breathe, Desire, Midnight (interlude), Marathon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Floetry&lt;/strong&gt; – Closer, Lay Down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Janet&lt;/strong&gt; – Moist (and BOOO!! to Discipline… it was just kinda over the top, even for Ms. Jackson)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ciara&lt;/strong&gt; – Promise (I know… it’s a stretch but I’m desperate here)&lt;br /&gt;Umm…. Yeah, that’s all I got at the moment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody? Suggestions? Comments?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5791046103500616844-3502346030233929349?l=cherry-sundae.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/feeds/3502346030233929349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5791046103500616844&amp;postID=3502346030233929349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/3502346030233929349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5791046103500616844/posts/default/3502346030233929349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cherry-sundae.blogspot.com/2008/08/were-not-makin-love.html' title='We&apos;re not makin&apos; love...'/><author><name>amberife</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VFIMOfAUjXY/S2-tHeGGErI/AAAAAAAAAOI/QUnvgBdwnRk/S220/cherryshirt.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
