<?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-147233862951791128</id><updated>2012-02-16T22:45:42.588-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bachelor of Arg</title><subtitle type='html'>Chronicling my incredibly long journey to achieving a simple B.A.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-4072061490316910023</id><published>2010-06-21T20:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T20:34:11.145-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Don't Update Often</title><content type='html'>1. My hair.&lt;br /&gt;2. My wardrobe.&lt;br /&gt;3. My blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did the hair on Thurs, so I figured maybe I'd toss out a blog post while I'm at it. The clothes though...who knows on that one. I still have clothes from when I was 16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the school topic, I finished Abnormal with a decent mark. I thought I bombed the exam, and while my mark wasn't great, it worked. I rocked my essay with a 95%. I wish I got it back with comments, sadly, I only get the mark. I was hoping to give you an excerpt, because I know the three of you care JUST THAT MUCH, but Word seems to crash my laptop. Suffice to say, I got a 95 with the title "She's Got One Hand in His Pocket, and the Other One is Signalling God". I don't even think my prof read them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to pick a new class for the fall and I am narrowed the choice down to BioPsych or Social Psych. BioPsych sounds like it's for smrt people, so I might skip that one. I wish I could take more than one class a semester, but that one jacks my time up so bad as it is. I'll be in second year for a few more years I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoga school is impending! Under two weeks now. I haven't finished all the readings, and what I have read is not affecting me on a deeper plane or whatever. The path to Nirvana seems impractical at best. I also can't quite reconcile psychology (this whole having a self thing) and yoga's path to unself yourself. You've reached the pinnicle of yoga if you can be of nothing, and frankly, it doesn't seem appealing. One of the current teachers at my studio has a MA in Cognitive, someday I should chat with him. Meh. At least half the students want nothing more than to look smoking in yoga pants, and I can at least help get them there. Heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-4072061490316910023?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/4072061490316910023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2010/06/things-i-dont-update-often.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/4072061490316910023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/4072061490316910023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2010/06/things-i-dont-update-often.html' title='Things I Don&apos;t Update Often'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-5525146053710726820</id><published>2010-02-18T10:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T10:39:10.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mo Midterm</title><content type='html'>I had my abnormal psych midterm last week. This one involved short answer and fill in the blank along with the usual bubbles. I was feeling pretty good about it when I handed it in. I checked the multiple choices that I wasn't quite sure if I got right against my notes, and I did get them right! Then I realized I goobered cyclothemia in the short answer section and lost three points there. Bloody hell. It was a stupid stupid mistake too, which just annoys me all the more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to write a paper. It's kind of bizarre. It's not an essay, requires no research and she doesn't want it written in third person. And yet, I am supposed to come up with 7 pages answering three questions on why some woman was misdiagnosed with schizophrenia in the 70's. It's worth 20%.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-5525146053710726820?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/5525146053710726820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2010/02/mo-midterm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/5525146053710726820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/5525146053710726820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2010/02/mo-midterm.html' title='Mo Midterm'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-8240031964735335825</id><published>2010-01-26T18:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T18:50:58.039-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yo yo yo ga ga</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Waaaaaay&lt;/span&gt; back in the beginning of this blog, I mentioned a series of possible career paths. One of which was yoga instructor, which I had tossed out for a variety of reasons. #1 was really that I'd have to spend a month in training, and how was that going to work exactly. I thought about it more, and I talked to the husband about it some, and he was all "You mean, I can live the dream of being married to a yoga instructor? Where do I sign?" So in July I'll be in Toronto attempting to survive &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Moksha's&lt;/span&gt; training program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty intensive, 6:30am until 8pm daily. There are two hot yoga classes per day. At the moment, I can barely find time to go to one per week. I may shrivel into &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nonexistence&lt;/span&gt;. I've also got a bunch of books to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These books are a bit of an issue. They're a little on the hippie dippy side. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, I am a little bit hippie - but seriously I'm more on the munchies and free love side of the hippie spectrum. Not so much on the achieving nirvana, weaving flowers in my hair and no longer eating bacon side. The first book wasn't so bad, mostly on paying more attention to your body when doing yoga and not straining or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;autopiloting&lt;/span&gt;. The second one is about daily meditations and affirmations. I don't see myself sitting in the middle of the floor and telling myself "There is no spoon" or whatever (I left the book in the bathroom &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;??).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-8240031964735335825?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/8240031964735335825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2010/01/yo-yo-yo-ga-ga.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/8240031964735335825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/8240031964735335825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2010/01/yo-yo-yo-ga-ga.html' title='Yo yo yo ga ga'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-5005152889904368983</id><published>2010-01-18T12:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T12:27:44.175-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Return of the Mack</title><content type='html'>Or something. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The prof for Cognitive let us do a bonus assignment online to help make up for our collectively crappy marks on the midterm. It was only worth 2%, but I snapped them up. Every point counts, yo. The final was somewhat intimidating as it was in the ginormous gym at the U. There were tons of people there, and I hung my coat on the back of my chair which probably had me under intense scrutiny the whole time. I got to fill in bubbles for the first time in forever. Either I studied harder, understood the content better or the test was just easier. I finished a lot earlier than I had expected considering I was still scrambling as the timer went out on the midterm. I don't have the actual score I received on the exam, but overall I got an A- in the class. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started my next class, it's far more interesting, and we haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet. We're still reading about the history of psychology and it's various (humourously horrifying) approaches to diagnosis and treatment. Every time I imagine that poor Little Albert kid trying to play with his lab rat and some old dude sneaking up behind him with a pair of cymbals I crack up. I wonder how he managed to aquire this kid in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend of Watson's: Honey, I'm going to bring the boy with me over to Watson's for a beer and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Wife: That's guy's a nutjob. What sort of stuff we talkin' 'bout here?&lt;br /&gt;Friend: Uhh...just playing with rats.&lt;br /&gt;Wife: Rats?? WTF?&lt;br /&gt;Friend: No worries, we're just going to make him deathly afraid of them. Besides, it's the 1920's. Get in the kitchen and make me a pie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-5005152889904368983?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/5005152889904368983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2010/01/return-of-mack.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/5005152889904368983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/5005152889904368983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2010/01/return-of-mack.html' title='Return of the Mack'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-6714277147900232932</id><published>2009-11-03T15:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T15:47:27.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BRUTAL</title><content type='html'>The midterm was crazy hard. For about the first 20 (out of 60) questions, every other question I had no idea what the answer was. I think he made up some of these people and theories. There was no hope of attending dance class, I ran out of time while I was frantically flipping through my textbook trying to find the answers for the 15 or so questions I guessed at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good news is, online multiple choice exams are graded immediately. Bad news, I only got 70%. Pretty disappointing. The average was posted today, it's 67% and the prof says that's normal. When did university get so dang hard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like if it's going to take me 15 years to graduate, all I will have to make me not look like a dumbass is if I get excellent grades. And a 70 doesn't cut it. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-6714277147900232932?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/6714277147900232932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/11/brutal.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/6714277147900232932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/6714277147900232932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/11/brutal.html' title='BRUTAL'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-1322071720793557610</id><published>2009-11-02T11:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T12:12:27.775-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Countdown to Midterm</title><content type='html'>IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN! NANANAA NA NA NA NA NA! /air synthesizer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha, I make myself laugh. My midterm is tonight. Coincidentally, it's the same time as the older two kids' dance and tae kwon do, so they'll all be out of the house. Suckily, it's also during my ballet class. I may finish before then, it's multiple choice, so there's a good chance I could get done in 45 minutes. I did a Bio final in 20 once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am verging on terrified for this exam though. Not because I don't know the material (more on that in a minute), but because you get one log in. If your browser crashes or an asteroid lands on your house, too fucking bad. My laptop has been known to shut itself off randomly, and recently I've been having some issues with the touchpad. I don't really want to use it. The desktop dates back to Windows freakin 98, so I have my concerns there too. I tried using it on the website today, to partial success. I could load a quiz and take it, but then it said there was a submission error. However, the quiz appeared saved and finished on the list...I am hoping this is just a program glitch on their part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About that material and these quizzes. I was rather confident last night, until I started taking the quizzes. I don't know where these questions are coming from because I don't remember any of these people or their wacked out theories. Blah. If the average of the 10 quizzes is any indication, I'll score about a 73%. I'm more hoping for an 80%+.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cry for me, Argentina.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-1322071720793557610?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/1322071720793557610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/11/countdown-to-midterm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/1322071720793557610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/1322071720793557610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/11/countdown-to-midterm.html' title='Countdown to Midterm'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-8279088927923018270</id><published>2009-10-21T16:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T16:57:14.972-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wondering if I used ironic wrong last time</title><content type='html'>Castle complained about that last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suck at updating my blog. But what's new. Have you seen my other, more boring, blog? There's nothing much to say. I read, take notes and occasionally wig out. Wigging out is high on the list of things to do this week as I have a midterm shortly. Professor dude sent a note saying average is 65%, and he's concerned about the lack of questions the class has been asking. However, the program I am in requires a 7.0 (which far as I can gather is a B-, which I don't know WTF that means in % but it ain't no 65%) average in psych classes. So really, it can't be THAT hard, or we'd have no "research specialists". This is an entry year 2 class. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to figure out where they sent my student card. I just found out I have to take the final at the university in a gym of all places. Bummer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-8279088927923018270?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/8279088927923018270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/10/wondering-if-i-used-ironic-wrong-last.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/8279088927923018270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/8279088927923018270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/10/wondering-if-i-used-ironic-wrong-last.html' title='Wondering if I used ironic wrong last time'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-689570466917024122</id><published>2009-10-07T22:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T22:30:33.320-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Floundering</title><content type='html'>I'm finding it hard to keep up. It's only one class and thank god for that. I've usually only got one chapter and a couple of lectures to read per week, but dang those chapters are loooong. And a total snoozefest. It's ironic, learning about learning and not learning. I often find my mind wandering somewhere else and then I have to go back and reread because I remember nothing. It's really a matter of making time on weeknights, but they are already so jam packed. Wah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-689570466917024122?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/689570466917024122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/10/floundering.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/689570466917024122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/689570466917024122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/10/floundering.html' title='Floundering'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-17283888645579597</id><published>2009-09-21T12:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T12:55:39.858-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting</title><content type='html'>Going to school at 29 is exactly the same as going at 19. I am still trying to study while my neighbour tries to get me to party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-17283888645579597?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/17283888645579597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/09/interesting.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/17283888645579597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/17283888645579597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/09/interesting.html' title='Interesting'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-7549692042745110798</id><published>2009-09-12T21:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T22:03:18.162-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Deadlines are so last century</title><content type='html'>My course went online last week. I can already tell this is going to be rough as the system only allows me to use it if I buy it dinner first. I paid my tuition, but I have no proof yet that I actually go to this school. My student card is MIA. Though I guess they might want my picture or something. Even my Costco card has my picture on it. I also can't access my university email, which I have been told 8 million times is the only email anyone in the school uses so I better get that fixed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was right there first thing in the morning Thursday to see what was what in this course. The first thing I see is assignments. Assignments due on Sept 28! GAH. I haven't had to do anything by any specific time for a decade. Sure, I took two online classes already, but you can do whatever in them whenever. Sign up for exams when it's convenient. No convienience here - midterm is during my dance class. Poo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is, this class is finally something I have half an interest in. Cognition isn't my burning passion, but it's a hell of a lot more interesting than How to Write a Paper 101 or Stats.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-7549692042745110798?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/7549692042745110798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/09/deadlines-are-so-last-century.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/7549692042745110798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/7549692042745110798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/09/deadlines-are-so-last-century.html' title='Deadlines are so last century'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-916702231737154515</id><published>2009-09-04T22:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T22:44:02.054-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Atonement</title><content type='html'>Dear Karmic Computer Gods,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very sorry for making fun of Mr Music Teacher Guy last week. Killing my power cord and leaving me without a laptop for a week was cruel yet apt punishment. Loss of technology is no laughing matter.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-916702231737154515?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/916702231737154515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/09/atonement.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/916702231737154515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/916702231737154515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/09/atonement.html' title='Atonement'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-5755797841348377752</id><published>2009-08-26T16:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T17:14:37.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy shit, I'm old</title><content type='html'>Part time student orientation was last night. I figured since it was for part time students, there'd be people my age there. To be fair, there were two of them. Everyone else was like 12. Two hours of the orientation revolved around how much their online registration system sucks. Way to reassure me I've chosen the right university! Then I was blinded by the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dudes, there's this library thing, where you save all the books you read for your paper and then you press a button and it creates a works cited page for you IN THE FORMAT OF YOUR CHOOSING! In my day, you had to slave over a APA format book and try to figure out where to put the commas. Wave of the future!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then had a campus tour. I probably could have skipped that since I'm stuck in cyberland for at least a year, but hey. Mr Tour was pretty enthusiastic. He turns 20 in November. :/ They have sushi in their caf. Back in the old days when I lived on campus, we were thrilled at the prospect of taco night. Memmmmories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was one obnoxious guy who told us he wants to become a music teacher like 14 times. Everyone else made sure to emphasize honours when describing their degree, so they probably think I'm a dumbass because I just said "psych". During our tour we saw lecture halls. Some have plugs for laptops. Music guy asked if all desk areas had plugs and was told no. I swear he started sweating when asking WTF was he going to do if he ran out of battery. I showed him this nifty invention called "paper" and explained you can use a "pen" to make primitive markings upon it. I don't think I made a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last, I braved the scary online registration place again to sign up for Abnormal Psych in the winter term. Self diagnostics on a blog near you coming this January.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-5755797841348377752?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/5755797841348377752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/holy-shit-im-old.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/5755797841348377752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/5755797841348377752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/holy-shit-im-old.html' title='Holy shit, I&apos;m old'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-2683690305601077629</id><published>2009-08-24T12:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T12:59:36.309-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi, my name is Jen and... *click* hello?</title><content type='html'>This is the part where I make a name for myself annoying every single psychology faculty person and a few in admissions for good measure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my letter and it said they strongly advised me to call for advising. Alrighty then.&lt;br /&gt;Q1 - how many credits must I take?&lt;br /&gt;A - no more than 1.5 (3 classes) per term. But you can take none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q2 - how come some of my things transfered totally (ie. instead of .5 Jr blah blah, I have PS100) and some didn't? MOST NOTABLY MY STATS COURSE.&lt;br /&gt;A - I dunno. Yes, you'd have to take stats again, but the good news is you can take a it little later! Maybe that will ease the sting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q3 - Seriously? Stats again? Sucks.&lt;br /&gt;A - ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q4 - so...about that masters program. Is a degree from your U better than online U when we're talking admissions? Off the record.&lt;br /&gt;A - *stammer*mumble* accredited...I don't work in the grad department...uh..no comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I mull this over for a week, and decide going to "real" school is probably better. Call for more advising as I have no idea WTF course I should take first. I get a receptionist that tells me the advisor comes in for about one hour a week. Send her an e-mail. Get directed to a page on the website. Yeah, thanks. But she also tells me I'm in the wrong program and if I want to go to grad school I should be in Research Specialist. This makes me gag. I HATE research. I know &lt;em&gt;somebody&lt;/em&gt; has to learn how the brain works and how to fix it and blah blah blah. That somebody is so not me. I also need to write a thesis in my fourth year. Hoo-rah. I'm thinking 40 pages detailing the mental anguish I suffered writing the paper should suffice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I send an e-mail to admissions asking for the switch. They say sure, but fill out this form. And call this person for overrides to register, since I see you haven't actually signed up for a class yet stupid. I call this person, who's all "Jesus! Not you again!" but presses the prerequisites fulfilled button. Because of the lateness of me, and because I am currently limited to online classes, I had the choice between Intro to Cognitive Psychology and Biopsychology. They are part of an "at least two of" group wherein the other two are The Psychology of Learning and Sensory Processes and Perception. Cognitive was the easy choice. I'll probably pick learning for the other. I think I'm registered, it says so, but I haven't actually paid for anything yet. I also have to go pick up my books and stuff. Tomorrow is Orientation day, so hopefully that will be discussed and I won't have to ask and look more stupid. Cripes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-2683690305601077629?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/2683690305601077629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/hi-my-name-is-jen-and-click-hello.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/2683690305601077629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/2683690305601077629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/hi-my-name-is-jen-and-click-hello.html' title='Hi, my name is Jen and... *click* hello?'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-7378591966048535940</id><published>2009-08-23T13:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T14:04:18.189-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Backstory, Part 3</title><content type='html'>As I mentioned in the end of the last post, I went back to my original choice of psychology for a career path. I've ditched my dreams of being Clarice Starling however. These days, I want to be -&lt;s&gt; a lumberjack!&lt;/s&gt; a therapist. I have heard many rumblings from some *cough cough my mother* that I am not cut out for this. I do have a certain propensity to say such things as "You're STILL whining about this?" "uh huh...uh huh..yeah....wait, what?" and "God, you're such a fucking dumbass." I save that last one for my husband and brother mostly. I think I can supress my jackassery, and if not, Dr Phil makes a good living calling people asshats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I want to work with women who have had traumatic birth experiences and loss. I can't imagine telling anyone to suck it up in such a situation. We're looking at that PhD again though, and I don't know if that's in my cards. I'm taking this one degree at a time here. At this rate, I won't get a PhD until I'm approximately 104, and I was sort of hoping to have retired by then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years ago, someone had mentioned a Canadian online university to me. I figured this was the answer to my prayers. I can't possibly get out of the house, and everything is sent here. I also had high hopes of finishing my classes in less time, but that was quickly dashed. I found it really difficult at times just to keep up. The&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;U is fully accredited, but I did wonder about the real world reputation of a place that'll take anyone with a GED and $80. I took two courses there, an English that was mandatory for all and Statistics. That's when I started thinking about Optometry (it was the crack I was smoking at the time), and that maybe I should try for a BSc instead of a BA. Online U didn't have a BSc in Psychology. But, one of my local U's did. They also have quite a variety of online courses, but not full degrees. I sent some emails, annoyed a lot of people, and applied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever later, I got a teensy letter in the mail from them. I remember from my old days of University application, teensy letter means fuck you, you're too stupid to come here. Wah. I opened it anyways, hoping it would say I just needed to take Chemistry or something. Surprise, we'll offer you a program you didn't apply to. Just to screw with you some. So, no BSc, but I could take my BA there. They'd already done the transfer credits, 6 out of a total of 20. That was pretty surprising, I didn't think my old classes would count for much by now. I can't remember anything of them. Except, this one time in Psych 101 the TA took his sweater off and his tshirt came with it and....oh, sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sums up how I ended up at local U, mucking about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-7378591966048535940?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/7378591966048535940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/backstory-part-3.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/7378591966048535940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/7378591966048535940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/backstory-part-3.html' title='The Backstory, Part 3'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-1928422999901803174</id><published>2009-08-21T12:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T12:38:18.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Backstory, Part 2</title><content type='html'>I've spent the last 8 years biding my time. I knew someday I'd have to get me a "real" job (you know, one that pays) but I wasn't really looking forward to it. Little known fact: each kid buys me four years of time. This is how I ended up with Eeny, Meeny, Miny and Moe. I'd like another one, but I don't know what we'd name it. Somewhere about year six I did the math, and realized I needed to sort something out soon, or I'd be working at McDonalds when Moe hit junior kindergarten. Sadly, my husband doesn't buy housewife as a career choice. Again, with the nonpayingness, and we both know I'd just sit here and play The Sims all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came up with many a career choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Midwife&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;PRO - &lt;/em&gt;loves the babies.&lt;br /&gt;CON - on call would be kind of rough, I don't function so hot on 2 hours sleep. Don't drive, and expect that labouring mothers wouldn't appreciate me telling them I'll be in the next bus, cross your legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;OB/GYN&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRO&lt;em&gt; - &lt;/em&gt;still, lovin' the babies. The on call isn't quite as severe as midwifery. Hospital within walking distance.&lt;br /&gt;CON - a lot of vaginas that don't have babies emerging from them. And I'd have to sell a few of my kids to afford med school. Residency would probably kill me, and I don't live in the city with the med school. Most importantly, i r dum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Librarian&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRO - books are good. Normal hours.&lt;br /&gt;CON - might have to sing to children. And can you beleive the Dewey Decimal system requires a Master's degree?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nurse&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRO - maybe labour and delivery, then back to the babies!&lt;br /&gt;CON - everyone wants L&amp;amp;D, I'd be stuck wiping old man ass for years. 12 hour shifts, bleck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chef&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRO - I like cooking. Food tastes like yum. I watched that Chef School show.&lt;br /&gt;CON - can't cook anything without a cookbook. Who's going to feed my kids while I am feeding other people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yoga Instructor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRO - make your own hours. Make husband happy *wink wink*&lt;br /&gt;CON - What's the difference between a yoga instructor and a pizza? A pizza can feed a family of four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lawyer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRO - get paid for being a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;CON - my mom wants me to do this, so obviously I'm not going to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Teacher&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRO - great hours, summer off FTW!&lt;br /&gt;CON - 30 horrible children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Optometrist&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRO - optometry school just up the way. Save $3000 with DIY husband's laser eye surgery.&lt;br /&gt;CON - see: price tag of med school. Requires Science degree, see: i r dum. Spend life saying, "better, or worse?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so on, and so forth. And this is why my husband hates me. He's all "Woman! Just go do SOMETHING for christ's sake." And I go, "FINE! I'll just get a degree in psychology and you can SUCK ON THAT."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-1928422999901803174?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/1928422999901803174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/backstory-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/1928422999901803174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/1928422999901803174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/backstory-part-2.html' title='The Backstory, Part 2'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-8762313507631440838</id><published>2009-08-20T11:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T13:38:12.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Backstory, Part 1</title><content type='html'>One upon a time, in a magical world free of responsibilities, I started University. I had grand plans of going through and getting a PhD and becoming the next John Douglas, or failing that Kathy Reichs. God, and if I &lt;em&gt;had&lt;/em&gt; to, I'd become a professor. It's just that easy! You show up to class (or....you don't) and voila, someday you're rich and powerful. How's that working for you, Phronk? Hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I had 10 years of schooling to look forward to, I didn't have time to have kids or whatnot. But since I was 19, living in a dorm, and taking bullshit elective courses, I did have plenty of time for partying and having sex. Can you see where this is going? Me neither.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week before my second year was to start, I was alerted to the fact I seemed to be missing something. Hmm, yeah, that's weird, I'll take a pregnancy test for shits and giggles. Suffice to say there was some nervous giggling and shitting of pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus ended the first chapter in my quest for a B.A. But the once upon a time did end happily ever after as I married the dude who knocked me up and had 3 more kids with him for good measure. My grandma is always bitching I never finish what I started, but hello, I'm HARDCORE on the birthing here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-8762313507631440838?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/8762313507631440838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/backstory-part-1.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/8762313507631440838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/8762313507631440838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/backstory-part-1.html' title='The Backstory, Part 1'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-147233862951791128.post-676420730841130031</id><published>2009-08-19T19:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T19:26:28.552-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Reason</title><content type='html'>I figure I should kick off the new blog with an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;explanation&lt;/span&gt; of why I decided to start it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Reason is not You. Sorry, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hoobastank&lt;/span&gt;. Probably no one is going to read this. But, I enabled the ad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doohicker&lt;/span&gt; just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Trying to sort out my life is, like, all complicated and stuff. How can we possibly expect teenagers to figure this out? I'm old and this is HARD. My husband is sick of my complaining, so obviously I need a new outlet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;FU&lt;/span&gt;, Penguin can get a goddamn book deal I want one too. But see point #1. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Seriously though &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;FUP&lt;/span&gt;, I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/147233862951791128-676420730841130031?l=bachelorofarg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/feeds/676420730841130031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/reason.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/676420730841130031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/147233862951791128/posts/default/676420730841130031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bachelorofarg.blogspot.com/2009/08/reason.html' title='The Reason'/><author><name>Jennifer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14161164884106137548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
