<?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-9221272244452930006</id><updated>2011-11-25T09:52:14.823-07:00</updated><category term='facebook'/><category term='screw the system'/><category term='green-eyed monster'/><category term='movies'/><category term='bad drivers'/><category term='family'/><category term='All in your head'/><category term='texts'/><category term='stupid people'/><category term='health'/><category term='phone calls'/><category term='work'/><category term='fat'/><category term='heart break'/><category term='smut'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>Vent, Rant, and Rave</title><subtitle type='html'>Release your frustrations here.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4420080593016069791</id><published>2009-04-19T19:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T19:15:42.456-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Back Off CREEPY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SevMtp945lI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/91CQTiBJobo/s1600-h/WENDOVER.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326576069027358290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SevMtp945lI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/91CQTiBJobo/s200/WENDOVER.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last night we went to Wendover to have a little fun. I was walking along by myself in the Peppermill when I got the unmistakable feeling of someone too close behind me. I turned just in time to see some creepy guy about to grab my arm. He opened his mouth to talk to me but I guess the glare on my face was enough to shut him up. Good thing too, I had some really not-nice things to say ready for him. I can't stand creepy stalker dudes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4420080593016069791?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4420080593016069791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4420080593016069791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4420080593016069791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4420080593016069791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2009/04/back-off-creepy.html' title='Back Off CREEPY!'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SevMtp945lI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/91CQTiBJobo/s72-c/WENDOVER.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-8836374927876447380</id><published>2008-12-02T13:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T13:13:57.732-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Snarky Temps</title><content type='html'>So our receptionist has been out a lot with medical problems, and we've gone through a lot of temps. I still fill in during bathroom breaks and lunches, and I'm still fine with it, but what I'm not fine with is when they decide to give me attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one here today, for instance, called me just now and said, "I was just wondering if you were ever planning on covering for my lunch." Um, how about this sweetie: call me and say, "I'm ready for my lunch, could you please cover for me?" or something along those lines, and I'll be right up. There's no need to be snarky about it. This same temp, by the way, informed me last time she was here that she didn't get a lunch break. I'm looking at her thinking, and this is my problem? I have a job to do. I do my job at my desk. When you want to go to lunch, CALL ME AND ASK! It's that simple. No need for the attitude!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-8836374927876447380?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/8836374927876447380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=8836374927876447380' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/8836374927876447380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/8836374927876447380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/12/snarky-temps.html' title='Snarky Temps'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-5510232399571787165</id><published>2008-11-26T10:38:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T11:09:19.417-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screw the system'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Thanks For The Reminder.</title><content type='html'>Last night I'm standing over my sink, doing dishes and crying when my father walks through the door. He walks up to me, takes in my expression, obviously sees the tears and asks.... "Are you cooking dinner tonight?" WHAT!?! The flashback started: 2 years ago I was working full-time, going to school full-time and married. I would get up at 6am, get ready, head to &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SS2Qt58pxFI/AAAAAAAAAoc/lRemSOnHbAM/s1600-h/marriage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273029857044448338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SS2Qt58pxFI/AAAAAAAAAoc/lRemSOnHbAM/s200/marriage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;work, go to school at 3pm, be there until 6-8pm and then head home. My husband would be waiting for me after working his 8 hour day and what do you think he had to say to me as I came through the door? "Why is our house always so messy? Why don't you keep it clean? Why isn't my laundry done yet? When will dinner be ready?" I could be near collapsing and this was my welcome home every night. After I would meet his list of demands I still had homework to do and do you think he even tried to spend any quality time with me? NO! He just played video games and went to bed early. That was my life. So, thank you Daddy for reminding me why I vowed that I would NEVER get married again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-5510232399571787165?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/5510232399571787165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=5510232399571787165' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5510232399571787165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5510232399571787165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanks-for-reminder.html' title='Thanks For The Reminder.'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SS2Qt58pxFI/AAAAAAAAAoc/lRemSOnHbAM/s72-c/marriage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4617861608265781392</id><published>2008-10-14T15:21:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T15:41:59.267-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Business</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SPUNeU2OFlI/AAAAAAAAABs/ZdOnIZFNlUE/s1600-h/angry-guy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257122954668283474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SPUNeU2OFlI/AAAAAAAAABs/ZdOnIZFNlUE/s200/angry-guy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SPUM8HTbUPI/AAAAAAAAABk/62GP_J7OMtU/s1600-h/angry-guy.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you do when you work at a company where there are literally only 4 other secretaries for a month and there is another person that has worked there for about 5 years and has been wanting to be promoted and they want to promote you before that person? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a very delicate situation, but how do you tactfully say yes i will do it without completely horrifying the other person?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4617861608265781392?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4617861608265781392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4617861608265781392' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4617861608265781392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4617861608265781392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/10/small-business.html' title='Small Business'/><author><name>Sarah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SPUNeU2OFlI/AAAAAAAAABs/ZdOnIZFNlUE/s72-c/angry-guy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-6269878651087859101</id><published>2008-10-14T08:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T08:55:52.157-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart break'/><title type='text'>What more can I do?</title><content type='html'>This is not a rant or rave, but more of a vent. I am heartbroken because someone I cared very much about now seems to hate me. I have the best of intentions here, but every action is seen the wrong way. Being around this person used to be so much fun, but now it's almost toxic. I can't eat. Seriously, I can't. My friend who works at the Center for Change keeps telling me to stop it or she'll admit me. But I'm so upset that food does not appeal to me, or stay in me, so why bother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tried everything I know of to help the situation. I guess I have to accept the fact that another person is involved, and that person can choose to ignore my apologies, misinterpret my intent, and basically react however she chooses. I can only control my actions. I am trying to be kind. I am trying to be forgiving. Frankly, I'm not sure how much more I can take before I just stop caring. I have a lot going on in my life, and the biggest test I'll ever take in 10 days. I do not need more stress, and yet in spite of it all I still love this person and want to make things right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you let it go and accept that you've done all you can, and the ball is in someone else's court?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-6269878651087859101?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/6269878651087859101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=6269878651087859101' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6269878651087859101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6269878651087859101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-more-can-i-do.html' title='What more can I do?'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4612026362811177094</id><published>2008-10-07T12:20:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T12:48:57.366-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>NO TOUCHY!</title><content type='html'>So, my last two weeks at my former company was not the best.  It all started shortly after I put in my two weeks notice.  Steven came to pick me up for lunch and the &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SOuu6A4MJPI/AAAAAAAAAic/rz4PGbyG5_U/s1600-h/shoulders.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SOuu6A4MJPI/AAAAAAAAAic/rz4PGbyG5_U/s200/shoulders.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254485701949138162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;next day I had a complaint.  When we went outside he had stepped off of the curb and I had rubbed his shoulders twice.  Seriously, just two quick squeezes!  Well, someone had a problem with it and complained.  I had to listen to "the talk" and I told them that I would make sure I wouldn't touch him again while I was at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the next week Steven came to pick me up for lunch and I made DAMN sure that I DID NOT touch him.  I think I kicked the bottom of his shoe to get his attention.  Well, when I got back there was another complaint, same person as before.  But this time they LIED!  They said that I was playing with his hair or caressing his face or something like that.  I was FURIOUS!  They flat-out lied to get me in trouble!  What BS!  I had the hardest time not walking out on the job right then and there.  It is seriously a miracle that I stayed for the rest of the notice.  I have not been that mad in a long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4612026362811177094?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4612026362811177094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4612026362811177094' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4612026362811177094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4612026362811177094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/10/no-touchy.html' title='NO TOUCHY!'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SOuu6A4MJPI/AAAAAAAAAic/rz4PGbyG5_U/s72-c/shoulders.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7496208074967915261</id><published>2008-09-23T11:03:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T11:04:13.819-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screw the system'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Petty People</title><content type='html'>So someone at work keeps getting me in trouble for something I didn't do.  I can't say more now but maybe later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7496208074967915261?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7496208074967915261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7496208074967915261' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7496208074967915261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7496208074967915261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/09/petty-people.html' title='Petty People'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-5121420256110114157</id><published>2008-09-19T08:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T08:18:39.902-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screw the system'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Common Sense &amp; Parking Lots</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/SNO0CMBMMOI/AAAAAAAAAWk/vyMP8_c-OD8/s1600-h/ParkingLot2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247735940495716578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/SNO0CMBMMOI/AAAAAAAAAWk/vyMP8_c-OD8/s320/ParkingLot2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On Tuesday, everyone in my condo complex got fliers telling us that our parking lot was going to be repaved, so we'd have to park in an alternate lot just south of our complex. Well, the lot needed to be repaved, so no big deal. Sure, it's inconvenient for those of us who live at the north end to walk 3 blocks to the other lot, but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's Friday, and not only have they not repaved anything (just repainted), but the geniuses in charge started at the SOUTH end of the lot (along 300 North) and opened up that end for parking, but those of us at the NORTH end (3 blocks away, remember?) still have to park in the altnerate lots. Now, common sense would dictate starting at the north end so those who are most inconvenienced will be taken care of first. But since when does common sense prevail with any combination of Provo, construction and housing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-5121420256110114157?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/5121420256110114157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=5121420256110114157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5121420256110114157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5121420256110114157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/09/common-sense-parking-lots.html' title='Common Sense &amp; Parking Lots'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/SNO0CMBMMOI/AAAAAAAAAWk/vyMP8_c-OD8/s72-c/ParkingLot2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4860668192323649315</id><published>2008-09-14T20:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:33:58.108-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart break'/><title type='text'>I'm not that girl.</title><content type='html'>Lyrics to my life story &lt;a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/wicked/imnotthatgirl.htm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. I am so sick of being told I need to put myself out there more, and maybe then I'd get married. Ok, I'm sorry, but I am not and never have been the type to throw myself at a guy. I have more dignity and self-respect than that. I want someone who is going to love me for &lt;strong&gt;me&lt;/strong&gt;, not because I cater to his ego and Facebook-stalk him so I can pretend to share his interests. I'm sorry. That's not me. And when the people who act like this tell me I need to be more like them, and maybe then I'd date more...well, it's about all I can do to keep from screaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on now. I have a degree from BYU. I'm going to get a MBA. I'm the president of an alumni chapter. I have a full-time job and am completely self-sufficient. Why should I need to cater to some guy's ego, when that's not the kind of guy I'd want anyway? I'm past caring about quantity. It's time for quality. And you don't get quality by hurling yourself at his feet...or at least, not the kind of quality that I want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4860668192323649315?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4860668192323649315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4860668192323649315' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4860668192323649315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4860668192323649315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-not-that-girl.html' title='I&apos;m not that girl.'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7779113098217755228</id><published>2008-09-12T09:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T09:53:16.453-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>How?</title><content type='html'>Somehow, an ad for a product that my company no longer produces (and hasn't produced for quite some time) turned up in this week's edition of Woman's World, and no one knows how it got there. Not me, the resident control freak (aka project manager who supposedly "supervises" all transactions like this). Not any of the designers (who design much better ads than this and have, frankly, never seen it). Not the executive vice president of sales (who is less than pleased about this taking up valuable ad space). Not the marketing director for that line (who would much rather be using said valuable ad space for lines we are actually still producing). So, how the heck did it get there???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7779113098217755228?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7779113098217755228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7779113098217755228' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7779113098217755228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7779113098217755228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/09/how.html' title='How?'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-6068698339100323486</id><published>2008-08-27T10:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T10:08:18.924-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>MEN!</title><content type='html'>MEN ARE ANNOYING!  Enough said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-6068698339100323486?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/6068698339100323486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=6068698339100323486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6068698339100323486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6068698339100323486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/08/men.html' title='MEN!'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7738565160901514733</id><published>2008-08-22T08:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T08:11:17.204-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screw the system'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Sadistic Landlords + White Glove Cleaning Checks = 6 MORE Hours of Cleaning</title><content type='html'>I spent several hours this weekend on my hands and knees scrubbing dusty baseboards back to their original white, erasing scuff marks from the walls (thank you, Magic Erasers), polishing the tile floor, bleaching out the sinks and tub, spot-cleaning the (disgustingly stained and needing to be replaced) carpets and sweeping the pigeon poo (and nest!) bespeckled balcony. I thought I'd done a pretty dang good job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday after work, I came home to a frazzled and furious landlord. Apparently the roommate who moved out (remember the little control freak?) hadn't done ANY of her cleaning, so the cleaning check that should have taken 20 minutes took 2 hours instead. Now the landlord was in such a bad mood that she was finding problems with my cleaning. She was really grasping at straws (Did you clean the outside of your third story windows? No? Why not?!) but what else could I do but clean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From about 6-12 (excluding a much-needed dinner break to Olive Garden) my remaining roommate and I bleached, scrubbed, scoured, sorted, etc. The landlord is coming back today at 5:15 and heaven help me if there are any more issues for her to nit-pick at. I don't have the energy or patience to spend another 6 hours cleaning an apartment that, frankly, can only get cleaner with new carpets and fresh paint at this point!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7738565160901514733?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7738565160901514733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7738565160901514733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7738565160901514733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7738565160901514733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/08/sadistic-landlords-white-glove-cleaning.html' title='Sadistic Landlords + White Glove Cleaning Checks = 6 MORE Hours of Cleaning'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7445757939559027052</id><published>2008-08-21T12:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T12:26:15.846-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad drivers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Old People Should Not Drive</title><content type='html'>Call me an ageist. I dare you. People past a certain age should not drive. In general, they lack the reflexes and common sense to survive on the road. This is especially apparent during Education Week at BYU, where the normally young adult-populated campus is overrun by said students' grandparents. It takes twice as long to get anywhere in Provo (and three times as long to do anything on campus) during Education Week. And there's no parking, because these guests don't understand the signs that say "NO EDUCATION WEEK PARKING HERE" (because some of us younger people do still use campus during this week) and park there anyway. Use the shuttle bus, people. Oh, and next time you're driving along Bulldog going a mere 20 mph, remember that those of us behind you are used to taking it at 45 mph, and we have places to be. So move over, or speed up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7445757939559027052?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7445757939559027052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7445757939559027052' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7445757939559027052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7445757939559027052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/08/old-people-should-not-drive.html' title='Old People Should Not Drive'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-3970065616335364999</id><published>2008-08-20T17:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T17:34:38.608-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bosses making you stay late!</title><content type='html'>So i started a new job last week and i have been putting in 10 hours a day roughly, mind you my hours are only 8-5. Friday night he made me stay til 7pm! I commute people, i live in Provo and work in Salt lake. I was told when i started this job that i would be required to stay late 1 HIGHT A WEEK! Thats it 1 NIGHT A WEEK! What is with this, you have to stay til 2 am if you dont get that book printed tonight! It wouldnt bother me except the only reason i have to stay late is because i have to wait for SOMEONE ELSE to do there job before i can finish mine! This sucks, so i guess we will see if i make it to my softball game tonight or not!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-3970065616335364999?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/3970065616335364999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=3970065616335364999' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/3970065616335364999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/3970065616335364999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/08/bosses-making-you-stay-late.html' title='Bosses making you stay late!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-8932211107206513859</id><published>2008-08-19T14:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T14:34:34.574-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screw the system'/><title type='text'>I'm Trying To Work Here!</title><content type='html'>All day I've been getting extremely frustrated with these political campaign recordings. First off, they're always retarded, &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SKsuKoPOngI/AAAAAAAAAWg/Kbainmk3VPQ/s1600-h/telephone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236329751883193858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SKsuKoPOngI/AAAAAAAAAWg/Kbainmk3VPQ/s200/telephone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;cheesy, slanderous, and just annoying. Secondly, I've got a ton of other calls waiting to come in and it's people who are ticked off because it's taking me forever to get to their calls and the reasons it's taking forever is because I have to sift through the stupid recordings! They are wasting my time and causing me a lot of unnecessary stress and grief. I really can't stand them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-8932211107206513859?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/8932211107206513859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=8932211107206513859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/8932211107206513859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/8932211107206513859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-trying-to-work-here.html' title='I&apos;m Trying To Work Here!'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SKsuKoPOngI/AAAAAAAAAWg/Kbainmk3VPQ/s72-c/telephone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-3785085676708728601</id><published>2008-08-15T08:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T08:07:33.634-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='green-eyed monster'/><title type='text'>Jealousy is Not Becoming But...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SKmCDQZGLSI/AAAAAAAAAUo/GDC1AgzPLzY/s1600-h/flowers.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235859034246360354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SKmCDQZGLSI/AAAAAAAAAUo/GDC1AgzPLzY/s200/flowers.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I try really hard to not be a jealous person but I have to admit, I had a major slip yesterday. As the front desk receptionist I see a TON of flowers come through for some lucky little brat in the office. Well, there's two of them that get them consistently. I swear, one girl gets flowers at least once every couple of months. Yesterday her number came up again and in walks one of the most beautiful bouquets I've ever seen! Seriously, it was huge, it was gorgeous, and I was green with envy. Well, she comes to get it and I move on with my day. Then when I go home I get there to grumpy. NO! I'm the grumpy one! Now I'm pissed off that someone is being grumpy with me even though I already want to break something. Why am I not special enough for flowers?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-3785085676708728601?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/3785085676708728601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=3785085676708728601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/3785085676708728601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/3785085676708728601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/08/jealousy-is-not-becoming-but.html' title='Jealousy is Not Becoming But...'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SKmCDQZGLSI/AAAAAAAAAUo/GDC1AgzPLzY/s72-c/flowers.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7621063966213310365</id><published>2008-08-14T07:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T07:50:18.916-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Little Control Freak</title><content type='html'>I live with two other girls. One, I adore. We're very much alike and very close friends. The other, well, let's just say we're opposites. I'm very "live and let live" and don't try to tell people what to do; she likes to treat people like children. And she's a little control freak (I say little because of her height - she's not even 5 feet tall, but she has a much bigger ego and sense of power).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, the AC. Roommate 1 and I like to have it around 74, maybe 73 degrees. She insists that we agreed on 75 (&lt;em&gt;she&lt;/em&gt; agreed with herself on this, since we don't remember having any such conversation). So if it's lower than 75, she turns it up. Also, she turns it off when she leaves for the day (around 9) so when I get home (around 4:30) it's sweltering in there. It's to "save money." BS. It takes more energy to get the temp back down (from the high 80s, usually) than it would to leave it alone. But last night made me furious: it's hot in my room, so I lower it to 74 (from 76). Rather than talk to me like a mature adult (hello, she's 26), she &lt;em&gt;texts&lt;/em&gt; me and asks if I lowered it. I reply, "Yes, my room is burning up." She replies, "Oh, SORRY" and proceeds to raise it to 75!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anothing thing she likes to control: the tv. Yes, it is her tv, but we've all been using it all summer, until now. Apparently last night she decided to disconnect the cable and keep the cord. My morning tradition of watching the Today Show (and the Olympic highlights, since I miss most of them by going to bed early) can't happen because heaven forbid I use her tv. (I have my own tv that I just brought up from California, but it's in Roommate 1's car and she's in Arizona for the week. I guess that means no more Olympics for me, huh?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, the thought of living with just her for the next week makes me want to shake something. Preferably her....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7621063966213310365?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7621063966213310365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7621063966213310365' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7621063966213310365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7621063966213310365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/08/little-control-freak.html' title='Little Control Freak'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4400159220929373794</id><published>2008-08-04T08:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T08:49:42.566-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>She Died</title><content type='html'>So I went to visit my "best friend" last night since she was actually in from New York for once and unfortunately that was the end of our friendship. She hasn't been a good friend to me for a while now but last night's incident was the straw that broke the camel's back and now I'm done. She totally bitched at Steven for something stupid and it really ticked me off. I miss my friend that was sweet, fun, and smiled all the time but I guess that girl is dead now and in her place is a mini version of her mother. I hate her mother. I should have seen this coming, when you tell your "best friend" &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJcW8j8LhII/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Tn4yYtlmYXE/s1600-h/th_graveyard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230674721909736578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJcW8j8LhII/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Tn4yYtlmYXE/s200/th_graveyard.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that you're so depressed that you want to kill yourself and she doesn't even listen you know she's not really a friend. Just to make it final I might have my own little funeral for my friend since she's obviously dead and there's some evil clone in her place now. It's so depressing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4400159220929373794?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4400159220929373794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4400159220929373794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4400159220929373794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4400159220929373794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/08/she-died.html' title='She Died'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJcW8j8LhII/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Tn4yYtlmYXE/s72-c/th_graveyard.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-703581127861047537</id><published>2008-07-31T09:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T09:45:34.511-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screw the system'/><title type='text'>No More Le Bus</title><content type='html'>We took Le Bus to Wendover and we'll never do that again. We left an hour and a half late because of driver difficulties. It was just dumb that they were off schedule and they didn't even offer us a little something for the inconvenience. I was very unhappy.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229204805534862530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJHeEKurzMI/AAAAAAAAAPg/l3gc8yRb2a4/s200/le_bus_bus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-703581127861047537?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/703581127861047537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=703581127861047537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/703581127861047537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/703581127861047537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-more-le-bus.html' title='No More Le Bus'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJHeEKurzMI/AAAAAAAAAPg/l3gc8yRb2a4/s72-c/le_bus_bus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-5572242685647745289</id><published>2008-07-31T09:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T09:40:27.852-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smut'/><title type='text'>Concert=Porn?</title><content type='html'>So, I went to Crue Fest thinking, this is a lot of great bands and Motely Crue is Rock Royalty so I need to go. How I wish I had stayed home. Besides dealing with sloppy drunks I also had to deal with the smut &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJHc36PQclI/AAAAAAAAAPY/ViwzRj--dwA/s1600-h/mc4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229203495438021202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJHc36PQclI/AAAAAAAAAPY/ViwzRj--dwA/s200/mc4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the artists decided to put out there. Buckcherry's lead singer went on a nice little pornographic rant during one of his songs. I'm a pretty sexual person but this was disgusting! Then Motley Crue came on, first off: their singer was sucking so bad that night, second off: they showed clips of girl on girl porn during their entire set. Oh, and don't forget the satanic images as well. I didn't go to a rock concert to see smut, I went to a rock concert to see artists perform their music and respect the rock. Why can't bands just be about the music? That's what I paid for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-5572242685647745289?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/5572242685647745289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=5572242685647745289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5572242685647745289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5572242685647745289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/concertporn.html' title='Concert=Porn?'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJHc36PQclI/AAAAAAAAAPY/ViwzRj--dwA/s72-c/mc4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7391213174328622105</id><published>2008-07-31T08:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T08:55:20.594-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Sloppy Drunks</title><content type='html'>Went to Crue Fest with some people I know. I really got pissed off because they drank way too much and I can't stand sloppy drunks! Well, we're rocking out having a good time when I feel something wet all over my back and my hair. I look behind me to see this drunk standing right behind me&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJHSRlUE69I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/ltfmiMgDLq4/s1600-h/shirtless.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229191841869786066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJHSRlUE69I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/ltfmiMgDLq4/s200/shirtless.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; with beer still trickling down his chin. &lt;strong&gt;He spit beer all over me! &lt;/strong&gt;I have not been that pissed off in a long time. Then this same individual kept grabbing me and trying to get me to dance with him. I seriously almost decked him. I had to stop myself and remind myself that it wasn't appropriate, neither is drinking like that though. Too bad to wrongs don't make a right huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7391213174328622105?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7391213174328622105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7391213174328622105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7391213174328622105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7391213174328622105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/sloppy-drunks.html' title='Sloppy Drunks'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SJHSRlUE69I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/ltfmiMgDLq4/s72-c/shirtless.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4029088721239014629</id><published>2008-07-30T17:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T17:41:16.994-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>Gambling</title><content type='html'>Went to Wendover, lost $80 playing black jack.  Need I say more?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4029088721239014629?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4029088721239014629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4029088721239014629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4029088721239014629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4029088721239014629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/gambling.html' title='Gambling'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4370689308635182039</id><published>2008-07-16T10:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T10:35:23.147-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Missing Money</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SH4jQy23vII/AAAAAAAAAMI/FdISJCNDRow/s1600-h/money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223651389233151106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SH4jQy23vII/AAAAAAAAAMI/FdISJCNDRow/s200/money.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last week I borrowed $40 from my mom. A few days later I wrote her a check, before I could even leave from giving her the check she lost it. I told her to look for it and if she couldn't find it I would write her another one. Then she asked me if I took the check back the next day. I told her no and brought her over $40 cash. Well, last night she calls me again and asks me if I took the $40 back. It's really upsetting me that she thinks I would still from her. I'm trying to be content with the knowledge that I didn't take the money and I know that and God knows that but it's still bothering me. I guess she really doesn't know me after all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4370689308635182039?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4370689308635182039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4370689308635182039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4370689308635182039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4370689308635182039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/missing-money.html' title='Missing Money'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SH4jQy23vII/AAAAAAAAAMI/FdISJCNDRow/s72-c/money.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-5956707396105848900</id><published>2008-07-10T15:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T15:31:15.493-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>NOT WHAT HE'S SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SHZ_iDbqawI/AAAAAAAAAKM/tVnMXbDcNVM/s1600-h/twi__oPt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221501040996281090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SHZ_iDbqawI/AAAAAAAAAKM/tVnMXbDcNVM/s320/twi__oPt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this is the cover of Entertainment Weekly(I know, "Aye Aye Captain Obvious!"). Here we have the talented young actors who are going to be playing Edward and Bella and what is this crap!?! Edward looks horrible and Bella looks like a beauty queen! Not how it's supposed to be. If this is a reflection on the movie I'm going to be pissed when it comes out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-5956707396105848900?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/5956707396105848900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=5956707396105848900' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5956707396105848900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5956707396105848900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/not-what-hes-supposed-to-look-like.html' title='NOT WHAT HE&apos;S SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE!'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SHZ_iDbqawI/AAAAAAAAAKM/tVnMXbDcNVM/s72-c/twi__oPt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-1851778263947747870</id><published>2008-07-07T15:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T16:19:25.594-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='screw the system'/><title type='text'>Justice Not Served</title><content type='html'>Six years ago today my mother's friend was viciously murdered by her husband that she was trying to get a divorce from. He broke into her house in the middle of the night and shot her in the face with a 12 gauge shotgun at a point blank range. She left behind 4 children ranging in age from 14 years to 9 months. It was my first funeral and the most haunting one I've ever been to. Of course, when someone you knew and cared about has their life stolen away from them you would like to see justice be served. The jury found him guilty of Murder One which was a great victory to us until the judge handed down the sentence: &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SHKO7QtgJXI/AAAAAAAAAJs/wXT5u2f5fXU/s1600-h/gavel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220392066825069938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SHKO7QtgJXI/AAAAAAAAAJs/wXT5u2f5fXU/s200/gavel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;5 to15 years. 5 to 15 years! What is up with that? Don't you think taking some one's life away, taking a mother away from her children should warrant more time? I'm still furious about his sentence and it's a point of annoyance for me. Sometimes, our justice system sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/37214/99/"&gt;http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/37214/99/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-1851778263947747870?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/1851778263947747870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=1851778263947747870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/1851778263947747870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/1851778263947747870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/justice-not-served.html' title='Justice Not Served'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SHKO7QtgJXI/AAAAAAAAAJs/wXT5u2f5fXU/s72-c/gavel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-6056272304085486631</id><published>2008-07-07T13:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T13:55:28.770-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Caught in the Middle!</title><content type='html'>Why do I want to pay $20,000-$90,000 to get an MBA? So I won't be on the bottom of the "food chain" and get yelled out for every mistake, that's why!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A certain (brilliant) scientist likes to vent to me about anything that goes wrong with things she writes. Never mind that her work is usually edited by our attorney (because some of the things she says could get us sued, and he's here to keep that from happening, so good job to him!) or another brilliant trainer/nutritionist. I take the flak (ok, the attorney usually steps in as soon as I tell him what's going on, but I take the initial flak).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that she's brilliant and doesn't like her work being questioned. I just wish she'd understand 1) I'm not doing the questioning here and 2) I don't have as much control as she thinks over the things other people do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-6056272304085486631?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/6056272304085486631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=6056272304085486631' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6056272304085486631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6056272304085486631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/caught-in-middle.html' title='Caught in the Middle!'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-6189932218421906847</id><published>2008-07-04T19:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T19:32:56.465-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart break'/><title type='text'>Not What I Thought.</title><content type='html'>I guess my relationship with the man I love is not what I thought&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SG7OnzhxjJI/AAAAAAAAAJU/PlOHHk6cXHo/s1600-h/broken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219336201411071122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SG7OnzhxjJI/AAAAAAAAAJU/PlOHHk6cXHo/s200/broken.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; it was. Everything is closing in on me and it really sucks. I feel so very alone, but I guess that's just my fate. I can't believe I lied to myself that much. I just wanted to believe that it was real so much that I convinced myself that it was even though the warning signs were all there right in front of my face. I feel like such a fool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-6189932218421906847?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/6189932218421906847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=6189932218421906847' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6189932218421906847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6189932218421906847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/not-what-i-thought.html' title='Not What I Thought.'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SG7OnzhxjJI/AAAAAAAAAJU/PlOHHk6cXHo/s72-c/broken.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4422787120178120441</id><published>2008-07-03T08:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T08:15:15.032-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Again...</title><content type='html'>Here I am, sick as a dog again.  Stuck at work.  I seriously want to die right now.  Please, would someone shoot me.  It would be merciful.  I would be forever grateful.  I seriously want to die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4422787120178120441?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4422787120178120441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4422787120178120441' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4422787120178120441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4422787120178120441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/again.html' title='Again...'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7762188268541169189</id><published>2008-07-02T16:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T16:20:23.876-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Terrible Teens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SGv-sSKG-4I/AAAAAAAAA1E/O_D0-KipdEM/s1600-h/BM68%7EYou-Suck-Big-Time-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SGv-sSKG-4I/AAAAAAAAA1E/O_D0-KipdEM/s320/BM68%7EYou-Suck-Big-Time-Posters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218544629980789634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a love/hate relationship with teenagers. I serve in the YW and like 90% of the girls in there. I know many teenagers that are pretty cool. But I also know MANY who are not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teenagers are the #1 reason why I don't go to movie theaters. They are noisy and obnoxious and it's not worth spending the money to go and be irritated by them the whole time. When did so many teenagers get so obnoxious?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's another &lt;a href="http://www.capecodonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080630/NEWS11/80630013"&gt;example &lt;/a&gt;of how teens suck:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"FALMOUTH – A 14-year-old boy was arrested yesterday after he pushed a senior citizen off a dock because he “thought it would be funny,” police said.&lt;p class="articleGraf"&gt;The North Falmouth teen – whose name was not released because he is a juvenile – was at Megansett Beach when the 2:20 p.m. incident occurred. Police said the boy ran up behind the 71-year-old victim, who was fishing off the dock with his grandson, and pushed him off the dock and into the ocean.&lt;/p&gt;                               &lt;p class="articleGraf"&gt;The man suffered lacerations to both knees and lost his prescription glasses, police said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="articleGraf"&gt;Although the boy fled into the woods by the Talk of the Town Diner, several people at the beach knew his identity and immediately called police.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="articleGraf"&gt;Once arrested, the boy was allowed to make one phone call. Police said he chose to call a friend to “brag and laugh” about what he had done. police said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="articleGraf"&gt;The boy was held on $1,000 cash bail and transferred to a secure facility in New Bedford. Police said he will be arraigned today in Falmouth District Court.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="articleGraf"&gt;Read more about this story in tomorrow’s Cape Cod Times."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7762188268541169189?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7762188268541169189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7762188268541169189' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7762188268541169189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7762188268541169189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/terrible-teens.html' title='Terrible Teens'/><author><name>Lisa K</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SAEaMQeM7NI/AAAAAAAAAgk/5AFopDEWb_k/S220/769433910_l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SGv-sSKG-4I/AAAAAAAAA1E/O_D0-KipdEM/s72-c/BM68%7EYou-Suck-Big-Time-Posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-597743799402077257</id><published>2008-07-02T16:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T16:12:42.251-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Case of the Ex</title><content type='html'>My stupid ex-husband will not leave me alone.  All day he's been texting me asking me if I gave someone from Springville his phone number and it doesn't matter how many times I tell him no he keeps asking me!  Holy cow!  I'm so sick of him that I could scream!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-597743799402077257?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/597743799402077257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=597743799402077257' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/597743799402077257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/597743799402077257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/case-of-ex.html' title='Case of the Ex'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7346409049607399989</id><published>2008-07-02T15:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T15:37:42.903-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Boo for Being Sick</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was sick with heat exhaustion. What sucks most of all is so many people at my work are treating me like I'm just this big faker trying to get out of working. I'm not that kind of person and it's driving me crazy that people are assuming that. Besides, if I was going to choose a day to fake sick don't you think I would go for Thursday and give myself a longer weekend? I'm getting really sick of being sick, I wish I didn't have so many reasons to stay here. I would seriously move to Washington or Oregon. It would be nice to get away from the heat, nice to have green plants all year long, and I would love to make a fresh start something new and exciting! But, let's face it, I'm too big of a coward. I'll be stuck in Utah forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7346409049607399989?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7346409049607399989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7346409049607399989' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7346409049607399989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7346409049607399989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/07/boo-for-being-sick.html' title='Boo for Being Sick'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-3592653202288893922</id><published>2008-06-26T12:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T13:44:31.281-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>"I have to talk to someone RIGHT NOW!"</title><content type='html'>Obviously as a receptionist I direct incoming phone calls, I'm dealing with people all day, and let's face &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SGPgQM8MdtI/AAAAAAAAAGk/gxFCg5190MA/s1600-h/frustrated.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216259362381395666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SGPgQM8MdtI/AAAAAAAAAGk/gxFCg5190MA/s200/frustrated.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;it, people can be REALLY annoying. I hate those people who call and refuse to leave a voice mail. They have to talk to someone RIGHT NOW! They get mad when I tell them that I can't see if the person is at their desk or not, then they want me to go find them, then they get mad that I can't leave my desk. Grrrr! Whatever happened to patience and politeness? If it's out there, why is it that people feel the lowly receptionist doesn't deserve any?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-3592653202288893922?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/3592653202288893922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=3592653202288893922' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/3592653202288893922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/3592653202288893922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-have-to-talk-to-someone-right-now.html' title='&quot;I have to talk to someone RIGHT NOW!&quot;'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SGPgQM8MdtI/AAAAAAAAAGk/gxFCg5190MA/s72-c/frustrated.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-6402990886976757654</id><published>2008-06-26T10:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T10:44:41.261-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Vote for me!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SGPHVveeLhI/AAAAAAAAAzs/JAudUvBIZJU/s1600-h/sytycd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SGPHVveeLhI/AAAAAAAAAzs/JAudUvBIZJU/s320/sytycd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216231969760620050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm a HUGE fan of both American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance. I have to watch every second of both of these shows, seriously. I can't miss any of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm starting to get really bugged by how contestants on both shows (and any other talent-type show where home-viewers can vote) do obnoxious gestures, displaying what number they are, so that we remember to vote for them. Why can't they just stand there and look pretty for the camera? The producers of the show are already showing us the number on the screen, you're only distracting us from remember that number for later voting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-6402990886976757654?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/6402990886976757654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=6402990886976757654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6402990886976757654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6402990886976757654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/vote-for-me.html' title='Vote for me!!!'/><author><name>Lisa K</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SAEaMQeM7NI/AAAAAAAAAgk/5AFopDEWb_k/S220/769433910_l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SGPHVveeLhI/AAAAAAAAAzs/JAudUvBIZJU/s72-c/sytycd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4884384282147603769</id><published>2008-06-26T10:10:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T10:10:41.856-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Isn't it ironic</title><content type='html'>The days you have to leave early are the days when all hell breaks lose at work. I love those days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4884384282147603769?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4884384282147603769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4884384282147603769' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4884384282147603769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4884384282147603769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/isnt-it-ironic.html' title='Isn&apos;t it ironic'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-4514979673498155402</id><published>2008-06-24T12:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T13:03:16.650-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>So much for perfect teeth!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/SGFE59OdWiI/AAAAAAAAAK8/vpXbcQRz8i0/s1600-h/toothdecay.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215525605950183970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/SGFE59OdWiI/AAAAAAAAAK8/vpXbcQRz8i0/s320/toothdecay.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm neurotic about my teeth. I love my Sonicare toothbrush. I floss daily and whiten (the natural way with hydrogen peroxide) every week. And I've gone to the dentist every six months since...well, probably since I've had teeth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was my first appointment with Dr. Losse (up til December I was on my dad's insurance and did all my medical/dental stuff in California). He had this cool laser thing that measures any decay in your teeth. He said this can often help a dentist see the difference between a cavity and a harmless stain or dark spot. Well, this trusty little tool of his found 4 "spots of decay" in my formerly cavity-less teeth. The best part? Although they've been there for at least a year (according to him), my dentist in CA didn't catch them six months ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So glad I've been paying for preventative visits for all these years, only to find out Dr. Cross in La Habra missed not one, not two, but FOUR cavities that I now need to get filled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I mention the thought of novacaine is freaking me out because I'm deathly afraid of needles??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-4514979673498155402?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/4514979673498155402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=4514979673498155402' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4514979673498155402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/4514979673498155402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-much-for-perfect-teeth.html' title='So much for perfect teeth!'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/SGFE59OdWiI/AAAAAAAAAK8/vpXbcQRz8i0/s72-c/toothdecay.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-8012223326645072985</id><published>2008-06-23T16:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T16:53:00.591-06:00</updated><title type='text'>OK sooooo.........</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SGApMxCduQI/AAAAAAAAAAU/BHCc0nj-Gcc/s1600-h/FAT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215213667793877250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SGApMxCduQI/AAAAAAAAAAU/BHCc0nj-Gcc/s400/FAT.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am fat! Here is my picture!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dont argue with me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do with it what you will!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9221272244452930006-8012223326645072985?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/8012223326645072985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=8012223326645072985' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/8012223326645072985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/8012223326645072985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/ok-sooooo.html' title='OK sooooo.........'/><author><name>Sarah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SGApMxCduQI/AAAAAAAAAAU/BHCc0nj-Gcc/s72-c/FAT.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-509652037317826918</id><published>2008-06-23T14:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T15:06:56.992-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fat'/><title type='text'>Ugly Pictures</title><content type='html'>This weekend I went to my friend Cheri's and added some pictures that she&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SGAPg_liJDI/AAAAAAAAAGE/wO_xPqq_gPg/s1600-h/Exercise.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215185427994125362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SGAPg_liJDI/AAAAAAAAAGE/wO_xPqq_gPg/s200/Exercise.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; took of Steven and I to my facebook. I was happy to have pictures of Steven and myself until I examined the pictures further. I totally looked like a cow! COW! I was so horribly fat in them that I cried, and cried, and cried. It was horrible. My self-esteem was completely shattered. In one little moment it was completely shattered. Now the work begins 1. to loose weight and 2. it re-build my self-esteem. This is going to be a long process. Stupid pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-509652037317826918?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/509652037317826918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=509652037317826918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/509652037317826918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/509652037317826918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/ugly-pictures.html' title='Ugly Pictures'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SGAPg_liJDI/AAAAAAAAAGE/wO_xPqq_gPg/s72-c/Exercise.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-555173144984178246</id><published>2008-06-20T21:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T22:00:00.916-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Overrated Cookie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SFx8ozyOp1I/AAAAAAAAAyc/EFq7jdbqUtU/s1600-h/oreo_Full.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 199px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SFx8ozyOp1I/AAAAAAAAAyc/EFq7jdbqUtU/s320/oreo_Full.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214179509125687122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The most worthless cookies are regular Oreos. Why would anyone ever buy a single stuff when Double Stuff is available? I appreciate regular Oreos in as much as they served as a proto-type for Double Stuffs, but they’ve done their job and we don’t really need them anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since they no longer have trans-fats, they don't even "melt" in milk anymore. Double lame!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-555173144984178246?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/555173144984178246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=555173144984178246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/555173144984178246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/555173144984178246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/overrated-cookie.html' title='Overrated Cookie'/><author><name>Lisa K</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SAEaMQeM7NI/AAAAAAAAAgk/5AFopDEWb_k/S220/769433910_l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SFx8ozyOp1I/AAAAAAAAAyc/EFq7jdbqUtU/s72-c/oreo_Full.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-804810710464137965</id><published>2008-06-20T08:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T16:32:20.988-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All in your head'/><title type='text'>Stupid Song</title><content type='html'>The song "Rock Lobster" by the B52's is playing over and over again inside my head and I can't seem to get it to stop. It really sucks. It's a really annoying song and I wish I could think of something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/szhJzX0UgDM&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/szhJzX0UgDM&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-804810710464137965?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/804810710464137965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=804810710464137965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/804810710464137965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/804810710464137965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/stupid-song.html' title='Stupid Song'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7633137959186043614</id><published>2008-06-19T13:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T14:05:55.750-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phone calls'/><title type='text'>Stupid Doctor's Office!</title><content type='html'>So, I have something wrong with my body again, big surprise!  I'm pretty sure I know what it is except for one symptom doesn't quit fit.  Naturally before I begin treatment for what I think it is I want to know so I call my doctor's office.  Do they answer the phone?  Of course not, that would be asking WAY too much.  But the problem is, they never call you back when you leave a message either.  So, to make a long story short, I sure hope that what I think I have is what I do have because I've started treatment for it.  I could not wait any longer because I'm going nuts so pray I'm right, or I'm in trouble.  Stupid nurses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7633137959186043614?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7633137959186043614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7633137959186043614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7633137959186043614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7633137959186043614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/stupid-doctors-office.html' title='Stupid Doctor&apos;s Office!'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-2037966398587441210</id><published>2008-06-18T12:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T12:25:53.015-06:00</updated><title type='text'>They always come back</title><content type='html'>Why is it that as soon as you convince yourself you're over someone and you've moved on with your life and he is no longer welcome as a part of it, he decides to come back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why is it that I always let him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no problem telling my friends exactly what to do with scummy ex's (it involves pliers, a butcher knife, and minor surgery, in case you were wondering) but I can never take my own advice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-2037966398587441210?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/2037966398587441210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=2037966398587441210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/2037966398587441210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/2037966398587441210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/they-always-come-back.html' title='They always come back'/><author><name>Janessa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSicnt-zm0/TT9D62JTGOI/AAAAAAAABPc/oC3LdcVU0js/s220/blackwhite3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-3673577541019536442</id><published>2008-06-18T08:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T08:54:11.823-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texts'/><title type='text'>Forwarded Messages</title><content type='html'>I keep getting these messages on my wall on facebook that say, "forward it to see what happens next" or "forward this and you'll see who looks at your profile the most" or, well anything stupid like that. They suck, and they're super annoying. Also the text messages, "send this to 10 people or you're going to have bad luck for seven years." Who cares!?! More importantly, who's stupid enough to believe in that superstitious crap!?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-3673577541019536442?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/3673577541019536442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=3673577541019536442' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/3673577541019536442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/3673577541019536442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/forwarded-messages.html' title='Forwarded Messages'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-5889446318203327847</id><published>2008-06-17T16:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T16:53:49.854-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Living in a Movie!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SFg9dEN7j1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/gDQOIZgocZU/s1600-h/warning1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212984138239020882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SFg9dEN7j1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/gDQOIZgocZU/s320/warning1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ok so i was reading a co-wokers blog today, and she was posting about another co-workers blog. These girls know who they are! Anyway, in this blog it said that the movie she would want to live in is Underworld, i am so upset because this is in fact one of my very favorite movies!~ If she lives in it it will ruin the movie for me. Geez, can't she think about other peoples feelings before she posts things like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to leave you all with something....&lt;br /&gt;"I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant"&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-5889446318203327847?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/5889446318203327847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=5889446318203327847' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5889446318203327847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/5889446318203327847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/living-in-movie.html' title='Living in a Movie!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_coZYYkw6efs/SFg9dEN7j1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/gDQOIZgocZU/s72-c/warning1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-6168236304368898099</id><published>2008-06-17T15:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T16:06:13.906-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Move Over People! I'm Trying To Park!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SFg09oA8zBI/AAAAAAAAAw8/rzNB6gbaQPM/s1600-h/expectant-mother.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SFg09oA8zBI/AAAAAAAAAw8/rzNB6gbaQPM/s320/expectant-mother.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212974801999416338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What's up with businesses not having Expectant Mother Parking? We're carrying humans inside of us, the least they could do is offer us close parking so we don't have to waddles a mile away just to get into the stores. If you won't give me a designated parking spot, then meet me at my car with a wheelchair-cart thingie. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SFg1DTx2jII/AAAAAAAAAxE/s1a9iMJGr_Q/s1600-h/PregnantLordosis-738779.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SFg1DTx2jII/AAAAAAAAAxE/s1a9iMJGr_Q/s320/PregnantLordosis-738779.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212974899646598274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-6168236304368898099?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/6168236304368898099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=6168236304368898099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6168236304368898099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/6168236304368898099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/move-over-people-im-trying-to-park.html' title='Move Over People! I&apos;m Trying To Park!'/><author><name>Lisa K</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='21' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SAEaMQeM7NI/AAAAAAAAAgk/5AFopDEWb_k/S220/769433910_l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Aac-nP4Hh4/SFg09oA8zBI/AAAAAAAAAw8/rzNB6gbaQPM/s72-c/expectant-mother.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-7447427735787790611</id><published>2008-06-06T12:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T12:47:58.060-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid people'/><title type='text'>Let's get this party started: JERK!</title><content type='html'>I'm very lucky because I have a job that I LOVE! However, just like every other job, there are aspects of it that I don't like. Wait, not aspects: people. The thing is, when I have to sit and listen to these jerks can I snap back? No. I have to be all polite and sweet when really all I want to do is yell,&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208837551017018674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SEmCJ7EVxTI/AAAAAAAAACA/NTldnkfGJ3Q/s200/anger.jpg" border="0" /&gt; "Reality check jerk! The world doesn't revolve around your rude self! Grow up!" People are annoying, that's all I have to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-7447427735787790611?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/7447427735787790611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=7447427735787790611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7447427735787790611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/7447427735787790611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/lets-get-this-party-started-jerk.html' title='Let&apos;s get this party started: JERK!'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SEmCJ7EVxTI/AAAAAAAAACA/NTldnkfGJ3Q/s72-c/anger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221272244452930006.post-8167368389786208914</id><published>2008-06-06T11:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T11:05:02.796-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Introduction</title><content type='html'>I created this blog because I believe in cathartic healing.  They say that venting helps you feel better and this is the place to do it!  If you're interested in becoming a team member so you can vent here as well let me know and I'll add you.  Let the frustration releasing begin!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221272244452930006-8167368389786208914?l=releasefrustration.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/feeds/8167368389786208914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221272244452930006&amp;postID=8167368389786208914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/8167368389786208914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221272244452930006/posts/default/8167368389786208914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://releasefrustration.blogspot.com/2008/06/introduction.html' title='Introduction'/><author><name>Celtic Rock Chic</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08514384938885345621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g3NGgQ51t_s/SdgFB1oZUhI/AAAAAAAAAu8/FQED8HJwZf4/S220/bd3.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
