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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand</id>
  <title>Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove</title>
  <subtitle>You don't lack the courage of your convictions, sir.  You lack *convictions.*</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Synthesized Goddess</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2006-11-24T20:26:24Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="4020582" username="whip_hand" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:49100</id>
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    <title>Serious Inquiries Only!</title>
    <published>2006-11-24T20:25:43Z</published>
    <updated>2006-11-24T20:26:24Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Lust for Blood - VAC</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Okay, so first, I am still, in fact, alive.  I can't access LJ any more at work, and really I've been too busy to do so.  That's the story and I'm sticking to it. Meantime, the work situation itself is sad.  People, you've had over 6 mos to hire me, and you haven't, so now I'm going to look for something better.  It's kind of like that moment that you decide you're going to cheat.  You stil need/want whoever it is for some reason, but you also know this isn't forever and you're not having that great of a time, so you begin to look elsewhere.  In addition, you now have the backup plan, when you decide you &lt;b&gt;really&lt;/b&gt; don't want to go there anymore or, as in my case most of the time, you find yourself without somewhere to go because you've just been laid off.  Before that happens, I will at least have taken a look at the market, if I haven't left before the shit hits the fan.  Oh, and I'm so not being a &lt;b&gt;Cassandra&lt;/b&gt; over this.  I've already seen the 1st round of layoffs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me also say that beating the crap out of myself at work and returning no results except the love and devotion of a bunch of good ol' boys in Texas - which in principle is okay - but not the only reward I was seeking.  Although, I do always seem to connect with at least one of my reps and this time around, it's pretty interesting.  I talk more to him than I do people I know in real life.  It's strange, but I guess not all that strange to me, as I'm used to talking to people I never see.  That's the way of things in my industry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings be to Halo's Crazy Scheme to Go on Vacation(tm):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go to Mardi Gras.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I &lt;b&gt;need&lt;/b&gt; to go to Mardi Gras. &lt;br /&gt;I would also like to do this w/ at least one person, so we can go halves on a hotel room.  I've no problem with my other expenses.  Plus, eating dinner and clubbing all by myself isn't so much fun.  I did that 2 days on my last trip.&lt;br /&gt;I want to go for 6 or 7 days.  It matters not to me because a) I may not even have a job or b) I'm still a temp so I'm not going to be paid, which means they can kiss my ass or c) I will have a new job with the understanding I have already booked the trip so fucking deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the problem:  None of you have any money.  Those of you not reading this that I've called, you also have no money.  So I asked a couple of my reps.  (That's right, I just asked people I have &lt;b&gt;never&lt;/b&gt; met to go on vacation with me.)  One said no because he's going to &lt;b&gt;Cancun&lt;/b&gt; to stand up in a wedding and can't do both trips.  He's not making that much in sales, apparently.  The other is making some serious bank but was planning on a trip to &lt;b&gt;Carnivale&lt;/b&gt; and can't take the time for both.  I'm waiting on an answer.  However, one last time, I will put the call out now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you REALLY have the money and are SERIOUS about doing this with me, please email or call me.  Mardi Gras is Feb 20th this year.  I need to get tickets ASAP.  Offer expires 2nd week of December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:48814</id>
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    <title>For Parasyte...</title>
    <published>2006-09-08T02:02:37Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-08T02:11:42Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Starlight - Muse</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-16047" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:bold; color:black; font-size:12px; cursor:default;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;My Personality&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;table width="100%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style="width:155px; height:15px;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width:145px; padding-right:5px; text-align:right; border-right:1px solid #960000;"&gt;&lt;div style="white-space:nowrap; overflow:hidden; font-size:12px;"&gt;Neuroticism&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="padding:0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-13837&amp;amp;a=personality-tests&amp;amp;x=70492x926776#s1" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; color:black;"&gt;&lt;div style="cursor:hand; float:left; height:18px; text-align:right; background-color:#FF0000; border-bottom:1px solid #960000; border-right:1px solid #960000; border-top:1px solid #FF6464; width:8%; filter:progid:DXImageTransform.Microsoft.Gradient(GradientType=0, StartColorStr=&amp;#39;#00FFFFFF&amp;#39;, EndColorStr=&amp;#39;#FF960000&amp;#39;);"&gt;&lt;div style="float:right; color:white; padding-right:2px; margin-top:2px; font-size:10px;"&gt;8&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width:145px; padding-right:5px; text-align:right; border-right:1px solid #000096;"&gt;&lt;div style="white-space:nowrap; overflow:hidden; font-size:12px;"&gt;Extraversion&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="padding:0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-13837&amp;amp;a=personality-tests&amp;amp;x=70492x926776#s2" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; color:black;"&gt;&lt;div style="cursor:hand; float:left; height:18px; text-align:right; background-color:#0000FF; border-bottom:1px solid #000096; border-right:1px solid #000096; border-top:1px solid #6464FF; width:97%; filter:progid:DXImageTransform.Microsoft.Gradient(GradientType=0, StartColorStr=&amp;#39;#00FFFFFF&amp;#39;, EndColorStr=&amp;#39;#FF000096&amp;#39;);"&gt;&lt;div style="float:right; color:white; padding-right:2px; margin-top:2px; font-size:10px;"&gt;97&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width:145px; padding-right:5px; text-align:right; border-right:1px solid #005A00;"&gt;&lt;div style="white-space:nowrap; overflow:hidden; font-size:12px;"&gt;Openness To Experience&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="padding:0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-13837&amp;amp;a=personality-tests&amp;amp;x=70492x926776#s3" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; color:black;"&gt;&lt;div style="cursor:hand; float:left; height:18px; text-align:right; background-color:#008000; border-bottom:1px solid #005A00; border-right:1px solid #005A00; border-top:1px solid #559F55; width:90%; filter:progid:DXImageTransform.Microsoft.Gradient(GradientType=0, StartColorStr=&amp;#39;#00FFFFFF&amp;#39;, EndColorStr=&amp;#39;#FF005A00&amp;#39;);"&gt;&lt;div style="float:right; color:white; padding-right:2px; margin-top:2px; font-size:10px;"&gt;90&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width:145px; padding-right:5px; text-align:right; border-right:1px solid #907300;"&gt;&lt;div style="white-space:nowrap; overflow:hidden; font-size:12px;"&gt;Agreeableness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="padding:0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-13837&amp;amp;a=personality-tests&amp;amp;x=70492x926776#s4" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; color:black;"&gt;&lt;div style="cursor:hand; float:left; height:18px; text-align:right; background-color:#FBD400; border-bottom:1px solid #907300; border-right:1px solid #907300; border-top:1px solid #FFF1AA; width:0%; filter:progid:DXImageTransform.Microsoft.Gradient(GradientType=0, StartColorStr=&amp;#39;#00FFFFFF&amp;#39;, EndColorStr=&amp;#39;#FF907300&amp;#39;);"&gt;&lt;div style="float:right; color:white; padding-right:2px; margin-top:2px; font-size:10px;"&gt;0&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width:145px; padding-right:5px; text-align:right; border-right:1px solid #500050;"&gt;&lt;div style="white-space:nowrap; overflow:hidden; font-size:12px;"&gt;Conscientiousness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="padding:0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-13837&amp;amp;a=personality-tests&amp;amp;x=70492x926776#s5" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; color:black;"&gt;&lt;div style="cursor:hand; float:left; height:18px; text-align:right; background-color:#800080; border-bottom:1px solid #500050; border-right:1px solid #500050; border-top:1px solid #956397; width:99%; filter:progid:DXImageTransform.Microsoft.Gradient(GradientType=0, StartColorStr=&amp;#39;#00FFFFFF&amp;#39;, EndColorStr=&amp;#39;#FF500050&amp;#39;);"&gt;&lt;div style="float:right; color:white; padding-right:2px; margin-top:2px; font-size:10px;"&gt;99&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;table width="100%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px; height:15px;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;nobr&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-13659&amp;amp;sh=y&amp;amp;ms=y" target="_blank" style="margin-left:5px; margin-right:5px;"&gt;Test Yourself&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/nobr&gt; &lt;nobr&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-13659&amp;amp;sh=y&amp;amp;ms=y&amp;amp;ur=70492x926776" target="_blank" style="margin-left:5px; margin-right:5px;"&gt;Compare Yourself&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/nobr&gt; &lt;nobr&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-13837&amp;amp;a=personality-tests&amp;amp;x=70492x926776" target="_blank" style="margin-left:5px; margin-right:5px;"&gt;View Full Report&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/nobr&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-16047" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; font-size:9px;"&gt;MySpace Surveys&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-37074" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; font-size:9px;"&gt;Bebo&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au/site_pi.asp?p=wpa-21472" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; font-size:9px;"&gt;MySpace Codes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;font style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; font-size:9px;"&gt; by Pulseware &lt;a href="http://www.pulseware.com.au" style="text-decoration:none; font-weight:normal; font-size:9px;"&gt;Survey Software&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br&gt;(You are sociable, outgoing, energetic, and lively. You prefer to be around people much of the time. You are generally calm and composed, reacting moderately well to situations that most people would describe as stressful. Novelty, variety, and change spice up your life and make you a curious, imaginative, and creative person. People see you as tough, critical, and uncompromising and you have less concern with others' needs than with your own. You set clear goals and pursue them with determination. People regard you as reliable and hard-working.) Note  - For an even better time, click on the full report about me and tell me if it doesn't fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it amazing how much we get along, even though you are completely neurotic?  I know that you are logical, and thus quite aware of this fact, so I'm not afraid to call it out.  Also, I stole the quiz from you and I could only compare my results to yours until my other friends here get bored and take it.  Which reminds me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::::turns to everyone else:::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take the quiz, bitches. 5 min. or less and you're through.  Then post, and show me how amazing it is that we haven't killed each other.  Or, conversely, the reasons why we &lt;b&gt;are&lt;/b&gt; such good friends.  Come on, entertain the sick little &lt;b&gt;Kitten.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::::coughs::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: Also, does this mean I'm completely &lt;b&gt;disagreeble&lt;/b&gt;?  What the fuck is that? &amp;gt;) (Honestly, didn't try for it,  I swear.)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:48502</id>
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    <title>Just call me Black Widow...</title>
    <published>2006-08-30T02:16:52Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-30T02:18:40Z</updated>
    <lj:music>March of the Dead - ::Wumpscut::</lj:music>
    <content type="html">...of the mortgage industry, at any rate.  The &lt;b&gt;President of the Home Loans Division&lt;/b&gt;, otherwise known as god, came in the other week.  I have you know if you don't realize it already where you work, god does not pay a visit to your little office in some random suburb without there being a &lt;b&gt;good&lt;/b&gt; reason...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namely, to sack us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this isn't definite, but the other processors are talking (k, gossiping), and frankly, it's a little too much &lt;b&gt;Aegis&lt;/b&gt; deja vu for me to handle.  Best part is, I really couldn't care less.  They'll be another job.  There's always another job.  And hey, in the immortal words of &lt;b&gt;Sting,&lt;/b&gt; "Why should I cry for you?"  I was just a &lt;b&gt;temp&lt;/b&gt;, anyway.  Yep.  &lt;i&gt;That&lt;/i&gt; little dirty word rearing its ugly head again.  You know they don't like to say it to your face, and they generally don't talk about us that way, but as soon as someone important walks by or they're having a bad day, you can easily overhear your magangers saying, "Oh, her?  She's one of the &lt;b&gt;temps&lt;/b&gt;."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::::smiles that smile you know means 'back away':::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, fuck you too, thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I don't think the girls are pulling a &lt;b&gt;Chicken Little&lt;/b&gt; here, because some of them have been with the company in different capacities at multiple centers for years. What I'm saying is I'm not the &lt;b&gt;ostrich&lt;/b&gt; this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the contrary, in fact, I'd actually be the person holding the &lt;b&gt;welcome sign&lt;/b&gt; for the aliens.  Why, you ask?...Well, again, I don't care because they don't care.  And I mean the company as a whole this time around, not my manager specifically.  I say this to absolve someone who is actually a decent human being, imagine that at work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, the parts aren't broken.  The &lt;b&gt;machine&lt;/b&gt; is flawed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:48302</id>
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    <title>Could you repeat that?</title>
    <published>2006-08-17T01:28:26Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-17T01:31:59Z</updated>
    <lj:music>St. Anger - Metallica</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I really can't describe how often I have to ask for the same damn conditions at work from the same damn brokers.  Oh, excuse me, it's &lt;b&gt;Banking Loan Consultants&lt;/b&gt; this week.  Yay for you, you took a day long seminar and forgot everything they told you.  Yet some of us have the equivalent of a month's worth of training and all we get is, "But I already sent that to you."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, okay.  Maybe.  So I'm calling you and asking for it because secretly I really enjoy wasting my time and torturing you and &lt;i&gt;furthermore&lt;/i&gt;, you &lt;b&gt;fool&lt;/b&gt;, I have it right &lt;b&gt;HERE&lt;/b&gt; and I am lying to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now back to reality...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::::sighs::::There. See?  You're glad to be back, too, aren't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other story of my header is the &lt;b&gt;Quote of the Day&lt;/b&gt;, cleverly nestled in this post, overheard at the gym of all places, and it goes like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Well, you know what &lt;br /&gt;I've noticed?  You see, we have a &lt;b&gt;Harley&lt;/b&gt;. Now that's it's summer my husband and I like to ride it after work, and I just realized something...I've just been sitting on my ass all day getting fat and sassy.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is probably no &lt;b&gt;Harley&lt;/b&gt; involved as an excuse for most of the people at my work, but that's what they're all doing and it's making me ill.  Even if my new -and I mean brand new, as I've been to two other departments since the last move- manager approves overtime, I am afraid to take it because I must go to the gym at least 4 days a week.  (By the by, I'm getting closer to that ever elusive &lt;b&gt;Amazon Kitten&lt;/b&gt; I want to be, so I can't stop now, people.  I will not work weekends and that's the end of that kind of nonsense right there.  I would never see the &lt;b&gt;Chef&lt;/b&gt; again, nor would I be at &lt;b&gt;Neo&lt;/b&gt; and that's just crazy talk.  Plus, I'd come into work and try to kill everyone if I didn't stay away from there from time to time, so there's that.  Anyway, here's to seeing you in my &lt;b&gt;House&lt;/b&gt; as some of my friends are also calling it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...just don't ask me to repeat myself when I'm talking to you at the bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:47917</id>
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    <title>Notice</title>
    <published>2006-07-28T21:47:24Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-28T21:47:24Z</updated>
    <lj:music>The sound of me flying out of my cube...</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Everyone who owns a &lt;b&gt;car&lt;/b&gt;* owes me a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manangement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*If you don't know and want to know why, you will have to ask.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:47784</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/47784.html"/>
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    <title>The New Emily</title>
    <published>2006-07-21T01:51:34Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-21T01:51:34Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Sledgehammer - Peter Gabriel</lj:music>
    <content type="html">For those of you who saw the movie - and there are precious few of you who know what I'm talking about, I'm sure - know where that comes from.  (I thought I'd say something about it, because you're all looking confused right now, especially the boys...except for one, who has a totally different reference for that name in his head as he reads it.  Or I might be totally off-base.  Who knows?  Who cares?  On with the post!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...the &lt;b&gt;new&lt;/b&gt; job...even though I haven't switched companies.  It's like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though no one is actually calling me by the processor's name who was out (due to an &lt;b&gt;ulcer&lt;/b&gt; she got from work, I may add), they might as well.  No one really cares &lt;b&gt;who&lt;/b&gt; gets the job done as long as it gets &lt;b&gt;done&lt;/b&gt;, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is some kind of &lt;b&gt;emergency&lt;/b&gt; and I should see it that way, too. (Too bad I worked &lt;b&gt;sub-prime&lt;/b&gt; because your closing dates mean &lt;b&gt;nothing&lt;/b&gt; to me.  You close when I &lt;b&gt;say&lt;/b&gt; you can close, fucker.  Besides, thinking the other way is what got that girl an ulcer, and she's the same age I am.  Not as healthy, but not the point.  Stress is stress.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four of the previous contractors that entered that dept. quit.  Two actually walked out on the job...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other processor I started assisting is talking about quitting, (while she patiently explains to me anything I haven't managed to figure out on my own yet)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means that if (when) she does, there will be no one with experience to handle her files as they are all too busy.  Thus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will inherit all of the millions of files she has, and all the &lt;b&gt;angry&lt;/b&gt; people that are tied to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will be the new &lt;b&gt;Emily&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least my boss doesn't tell me that I'm &lt;b&gt;fat&lt;/b&gt; or make fun of my taste in &lt;b&gt;clothing&lt;/b&gt; - though I'm not exactly the fashion plate at work.  There's nothing exciting going on there, I can assure you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's this catch about the money and my dedication to work:  I &lt;b&gt;am&lt;/b&gt; in it for the money, but I also &lt;b&gt;care&lt;/b&gt; enough to do my job well.  Again, I am beyond stressing about this crap.  I'm not thinking about it when I leave, or anything, yet I don't believe this is my true calling, and I know none of you think so, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too bad that my work has to get in the way of my life, eh, &lt;b&gt;mes amis&lt;/b&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:47459</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/47459.html"/>
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    <title>_shift_employment</title>
    <published>2006-07-14T18:33:02Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-14T18:33:02Z</updated>
    <lj:music>You've Got Another Thing Comin' - Judas Priest</lj:music>
    <content type="html">So during a long and harrowing day - and I say harrowing referring to other people, not myself - it was divulged to me that I would be transferring depts.  This excites me so greatly, I was nearly overcome with joy.  Of course, for those of you that can imagine me at the office, I exercised an appropriate level of restraint, and my manager was met with a rather dry,&lt;i&gt;"Oh?  Is that so?"&lt;/i&gt;  My manager has never spoken so many words to me in the entire time that I have known her.  Such irony there was do much to say upon my departure. (It wasn't that long of a conversation, really.  It's simply a comparison to the one or two word emails I usually receive, &lt;i&gt;if&lt;/i&gt; I receive an answer.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was promised all those things you'd want at a job: responsibility, training, a fabulous team, and we'll see if they can really &lt;b&gt;stand and deliver&lt;/b&gt;.  Personally, I think that all mortgage companies pull relatively the same kind of crap.  Only their acronyms differ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, someone might care about me now, and that's good enough for me.  We all know if I don't get hired as soon as &lt;b&gt;December&lt;/b&gt;* hits I can kiss my ass goodbye, anyway.  So, for now, it's all good, and all about the &lt;b&gt;money&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you about my &lt;b&gt;alternative&lt;/b&gt; plans for the future if I can straighten them out.  I give you a hint:  It involves me going into &lt;b&gt;debt&lt;/b&gt;.  Big surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*For those of you who may be unaware, this begins the slow season in the industry and every company in the business cuts their temps -and often some of their perm staff- in order to stop the hemorrhagging until March, when they rehire.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:47299</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/47299.html"/>
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    <title>Word of the Day</title>
    <published>2006-07-11T21:13:13Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-11T21:15:08Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Lysergia - Velvet Acid Christ</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;b&gt;per·sev·er·a·tion&lt;/b&gt; n.&lt;br /&gt;1.a.Uncontrollable repetition of a particular response, such as a word, phrase, or gesture, despite the absence or cessation of a stimulus, usually caused by brain injury or other organic disorder. &lt;br /&gt;b.The tendency to continue or repeat an act or activity after the cessation of the original stimulus. &lt;br /&gt;2.The act or an instance of persevering; perseverance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the &lt;b&gt;New York Times&lt;/b&gt; for whipping that word out in an article describing the connection between meth and identity theft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm not saying I didn't already hear about meth heads going about pilfering bills (which contain personal checks) from suburban mailboxes, but let's face it: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagining a horde of them shambling down the street like &lt;b&gt;zombies&lt;/b&gt; and attacking your &lt;b&gt;little red school house&lt;/b&gt; is kind of silly when you think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Again, I'm not saying it doesn't happen.  I'm just amused by the image...and now I'm afraid to put the flag up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:47063</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/47063.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=47063"/>
    <title>But it only had 6HP left!</title>
    <published>2006-07-07T20:22:54Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-07T20:27:03Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Mortal Kombat Theme</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="background-color:#555;color:#eee; padding:8px 16px;border:8px #000 outset; width:60%; font-family:helvetica, sans-serif; text-align:center"&gt;&lt;h3 style="color:#fe0; background-color:#777; padding:8px; margin:0px"&gt;I died in the Dungeon of Chloegoth&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was killed in an unnatural fissure by &lt;b&gt;Mumtaz the arch-demon&lt;/b&gt;, whilst carrying...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; the Sword of Jlkennedy, the Dagger of Cloakedwraith, the Shield of Docbrite, the Sword of Werewolves, the Dagger of Annie Lennox and 34 gold pieces.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color:#fe0; background-color:#777; padding:8px"&gt;Score: &lt;b&gt;17&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://thesurrealist.co.uk/dungeon?user=chloegoth" style="color:#fe0;"&gt;Explore the Dungeon of Chloegoth&lt;/a&gt; and try to beat this score,&lt;br&gt;or enter your username to generate and explore your own dungeon...&lt;form action="http://thesurrealist.co.uk/dungeon" method="get"&gt;&lt;input type="text" name="user" style="background: #fff url(http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) no-repeat scroll 0px 1px; padding-left: 18px; color: rgb(0, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Go"&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn...Hey, wait a minute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this mean I've broken the &lt;b&gt;Vow of No-Gaming?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crap, I was clean for, like, 6 years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's &lt;b&gt;your&lt;/b&gt; fault, chloegoth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:46794</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/46794.html"/>
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    <title>Why I Hate Pretty Girls</title>
    <published>2006-07-06T18:05:11Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-06T18:06:14Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Unpretty - TLC</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I hate pretty girls because the world fawns over them and by looking &lt;b&gt;weak and fragile&lt;/b&gt; (though showing some &lt;b&gt;cleavage&lt;/b&gt; doesn't hurt), they get people to do things for them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate pretty girls because they're generally &lt;b&gt;flaky&lt;/b&gt; and can't really commit to anything, but everyone just lets them &lt;b&gt;get away with it&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate pretty girls because they care more about their hair and what they wear then realizing that the ridiculous rhinestone collar their &lt;b&gt;poodle-in-a-bag&lt;/b&gt; has on is choking it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate pretty girls because they always wear open-toed shoes with pedicures which match perfectly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate pretty girls because they pretend to take a moment feel sorry for you when you've had a bad day, but not if it interferes with their &lt;b&gt;manicure appointment&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate pretty girls because they will never know what it's like for the world to pass judgment on them for their physical appearance and be found &lt;b&gt;lacking&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate pretty girls the most because they've convinced the world that we should &lt;b&gt;all&lt;/b&gt; be and, more importantly, all &lt;b&gt;want&lt;/b&gt; to be pretty girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:46400</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/46400.html"/>
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    <title>What a waste...</title>
    <published>2006-06-28T04:42:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-28T04:42:05Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Every Day is Exactly the Same - NIN</lj:music>
    <content type="html">2005, I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;b&gt;whole&lt;/b&gt; year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Practically nothing good came out of it, except meeting some people that don't suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did bad things to myself. &lt;b&gt;Again.&lt;/b&gt; And let me make it clear this is a &lt;b&gt;rant&lt;/b&gt;, not a cry for help, so if you've got me on speed dial, I won't need a medical team, or even a band-aid.  Just the call is fine, thanks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty pissed off at myself.  I had a really good thing going and I completely blew it, because that's what I do when I get depressed.  I fuck things up inside me so it gets all ugly in there and I can't sleep at night because I'm fucking screaming at myself and won't let it go...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look fine on the outside, of course.  Maybe a tad more flippant, perhaps a bit more apathetic, but generally the same sarcastic me you've come to know and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This job is crap.  I don't have a pipeline, my manager doesn't care whether I live or die, and she can't even be bothered to answer my most basic questions.  ("Who else is on our team?")  All I care about during the week is waiting for the day to end so I can go to the gym and do what I &lt;b&gt;really&lt;/b&gt; need to do.  This is turning into a less dramatic version of my life at the &lt;b&gt;U of C&lt;/b&gt; and you *all* know how much I &lt;b&gt;loved&lt;/b&gt; my life there.  Same psychotic diet, nearly the same psychotic workout schedule.  I have a &lt;b&gt;personal trainer&lt;/b&gt;, when I can afford to pay her.  But this time I'm not doing it for the first time.  This is the &lt;b&gt;second&lt;/b&gt; time around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there's something to &lt;b&gt;compare&lt;/b&gt; myself to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And let me tell you just how much that fucking &lt;b&gt;sucks&lt;/b&gt;, because I fucked up everything I had.  My only saving grace is that I did still dance on the weekends and my eating habits weren't that disgusting, so my muscle mass, proportionately speaking, is the same as it was.  I'm just bigger than I was before.  Not as bad as high school, because I, at least, like I said before, always gave a fleeting shit now and again as to what I ate and did something other than sit on my ass all the time.  I mean, my clothes are the same and all that garbage, except for the ultra tiny pants (Hey, they're a generous size 5 and I can't get much smaller) I bought somewhere in the middle of that.  They are known as &lt;b&gt;THE Pants&lt;/b&gt; to those of who who have heard me complain recently.  At least I can get them on now, but it's so not the same, and I &lt;b&gt;know&lt;/b&gt; why.  You see, I have statistics from then, and the numbers don't lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am truly disappointed in myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plateaus happen. They're hard to get over.  Progress is excellent and something to strive for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Losing ground is NOT acceptable.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing what a difference a year makes.  In one year, I was (suddenly) in the best shape of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in another, I threw all of that away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone's going to get their ass kicked...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you know who I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:46184</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/46184.html"/>
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    <title>Too much time/Not enough time...REPEAT...</title>
    <published>2006-06-21T23:30:44Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-21T23:30:44Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Mr Brightside - The Killers</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Too much time - wasted on things which are not important to me but I can't get away from*.  I'm sure at some point I will make a real entry about this, but then there's the other problem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too little time - available to accomplish the things I actually want to do.  And no, it's not all about partying at &lt;b&gt;Neo&lt;/b&gt;. (I mean hey, even if I had my way, I'd only be out 4 times a week.  Okay 5, tops, I swear.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's strange because technically- allright let's be honest- &lt;b&gt;financially&lt;/b&gt; I'm not in too bad of a place.  Of course, I'm always trying to make more money, and I'm kind of regretting taking that 2nd exemption on my taxes, but bigger refund in the end, yes?  And of course, my friends are the kind, generous, loving people they have always been, if not more so over the years.  In addition, I've managed not to kill the &lt;b&gt;Chef&lt;/b&gt;, but I never see him.  Not that seeing him more would prompt a killing, but you get the drift. Oh, and this not seeing thing isn't the sort of high school &lt;b&gt;hangnail&lt;/b&gt; that it has been in the past.  I think that I clock exactly &lt;b&gt;10 waking hours&lt;/b&gt; with him a week.  So most of the time it's kind of like being single...and unwillingly &lt;b&gt;celibate&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::::claws at the furniture::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Seriously, if I don't post about this soon, just whine at me about it and I'll do something.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:45889</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/45889.html"/>
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    <title>And I wave my magic wand...</title>
    <published>2006-06-19T18:49:40Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-19T18:51:40Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Virtual jukebox playing Mephisto Waltz</lj:music>
    <content type="html">*Poof!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should it be of interest, you have regained your privileges, at least with regard to my journal.  Behave yourself or I shall be forced to throw you into the &lt;b&gt;bog of Eternal Stench&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:45784</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/45784.html"/>
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    <title>Snapshot #26</title>
    <published>2006-06-09T16:25:15Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-09T16:25:15Z</updated>
    <lj:music>My Name - Ravenous</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;i&gt;"That's why I enjoy licking you."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:45446</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/45446.html"/>
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    <title>No Further Arguments, Your Honor...</title>
    <published>2006-06-05T23:24:37Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-05T23:31:21Z</updated>
    <lj:music>I don't think we need any for this one.</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;i&gt;Lioness Kills Man Who Enters Zoo Cage&lt;br /&gt;Reuters&lt;br /&gt;KIEV (June 5) - A man shouting that God would keep him safe was mauled to death by a lioness in Kiev zoo after he crept into the animal's enclosure, a zoo official said on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The man shouted 'God will save me, if he exists', lowered himself by a rope into the enclosure, took his shoes off and went up to the lions," the official said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A lioness went straight for him, knocked him down and severed his carotid artery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The incident, Sunday evening when the zoo was packed with visitors, was the first of its kind at the attraction. Lions and tigers are kept in an "animal island" protected by thick concrete blocks.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love happy endings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: I also find this particularly stunning because animals whether in zoos or elsewhere rarely attack anyone...unless &lt;b&gt;provoked&lt;/b&gt;.  And it's your own damn fault if you enter their territory and don't know what provokes them, such as waving live meat in their faces and discussing religion.  Of course, that would provoke me, too, so draw your own conclusions.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:45117</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/45117.html"/>
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    <title>Lo, there was a job...</title>
    <published>2006-05-08T18:29:59Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-11T02:18:41Z</updated>
    <lj:music>"*I* have made fire!"</lj:music>
    <content type="html">And it begins tomorrow.  It's not perm so save the French dinner with the &lt;b&gt;prix fixe&lt;/b&gt; menu for when I get there, but a steakhouse is always appreciated. &amp;gt;)  I can't go dancing 5 days a week anymore, so it's weekends only from now on.  I had a total blast partying but now it's time to get my ass in the gym on all those days I don't club and not let my work take over my life.  Thanks for all your support.  Now I'm going to try to make as much money as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:44967</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/44967.html"/>
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    <title>SOMEBODY, PLEASE GIVE ME A JOB!</title>
    <published>2006-04-24T17:26:15Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-24T17:26:15Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Blood On the Dancefloor - LDO's special mix</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Otherwise, I really &lt;b&gt;will&lt;/b&gt; have to sleep under the bar at &lt;b&gt;Neo&lt;/b&gt; and nobody wants that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:44644</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/44644.html"/>
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    <title>Just when it was all looking so grand...</title>
    <published>2006-04-06T18:02:28Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-06T19:24:00Z</updated>
    <lj:music>When am I going to learn?</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Something had to happen.  You know the &lt;b&gt;shoe&lt;/b&gt;, don't you?  Some of you might remember the post from my DJ (that I'm sure keeled over a long time ago because I never post in that journal, either.)  For those of you that may have forgotten or are new to the &lt;b&gt;shoe&lt;/b&gt;...You know it best as "The &lt;i&gt;other&lt;/i&gt; shoe."  As in, "Wait for [it] to drop."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the &lt;b&gt;shoe&lt;/b&gt;.  I'm getting along with the &lt;b&gt;Chef&lt;/b&gt; and I love the &lt;b&gt;Diva&lt;/b&gt; too much, so that would leave the third area of my life: &lt;b&gt;work&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear nasty, ugly rumors all day long about the fate of our company.  Worst part is, now my supervisor isn't even denying it.  He has no idea what's going on, and now I am officially worried.  The up side?  At least I won't be terminated, so it will make a fabulous (and let's face it) the only &lt;b&gt;serious&lt;/b&gt; corporate job I've had.  Fortunately, now that I have friends in the business, at least I won't be alone and they can assist me get to where I need to go. (Read this as: &lt;b&gt;Using them.&lt;/b&gt; Hey, they'd do the same with me if I knew anyone, and I'd be happy to help them, too.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, you know me...Even though I know everything, in the past I rarely preemtively struck at my enemies.  But as time went by, I relinquished that because I kept getting tossed out of my comfort zone time and again.  I think I'll just throw &lt;i&gt;myself&lt;/i&gt; out and see how it goes.  It can't hurt to take a look around.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Knowing your surroundings is what keeps you from getting attacked from behind.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about &lt;b&gt;that&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: Hello new people.  You can say hi also, if you like.  Or you can just stalk me, because it isn't &lt;br /&gt;anything new. &amp;gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;UPDATE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rumors are true.  Damn, I hate being right.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:44520</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/44520.html"/>
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    <title>Laissez les bons temps rouler!</title>
    <published>2006-02-23T23:10:47Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-23T23:10:47Z</updated>
    <lj:music>No Brakes - The Bravery</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Okay, okay already.  I got a &lt;b&gt;nudge&lt;/b&gt; from Darkman, so here I am.  I'm leaving for &lt;b&gt;New Orleans&lt;/b&gt; this Saturday. I'll be back Friday.  I am so excited, I don't know what to do with myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Except...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...install &lt;b&gt;dreadlocks.&lt;/b&gt;  That's right, I figure if I'm gone for a week, then I have time to make the whole process worthwhile.  I'll let you know how it goes and take some pictures.  They're going in tonight, as soon as I get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad that Conrad, whom some of you know as that &lt;b&gt;red-headed chef&lt;/b&gt; I date is from there so I am not totally lost.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::::grins::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess we get to see whether a week is too much togetherness or not.  I hardly see him as it is, so I'm thinking no.  FYI: He just had his birthday.  That bastard is only 22. &amp;gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have way too much luggage, 2 credit cards and a checking account that says, "Look, I have plenty of money.  Do whatever I tell you."  Thank god for a real job.  And speaking of that, I just had my 1 year anniversary with &lt;b&gt;AFC&lt;/b&gt;.  Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you'll excuse me, I have to sit and the desk for a few more wasted moments of my life and then the partying begins.  I'm going to check out the &lt;b&gt;Industrial/EBM&lt;/b&gt; DJ at &lt;b&gt;Holiday Club&lt;/b&gt; tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever come back*, I'll tell you about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Come &lt;i&gt;on&lt;/i&gt;!  I can drink on the street and smoke anywhere I want.  That's lightyears better than most places, particularly &lt;b&gt;California.&lt;/b&gt; Ick.  Let's &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; do that again. &amp;gt;)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:44252</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/44252.html"/>
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    <title>Vacation</title>
    <published>2006-01-26T20:58:57Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-26T20:58:57Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Holiday - The Birthday Massacre</lj:music>
    <content type="html">So, I'm finally getting that vacation that I've wanted for about 5 years now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to &lt;b&gt;New Orleans&lt;/b&gt; for Mardi Gras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited, I can hardly stand it.  I have everything booked:  Hotel, airfare, and the limo, of course, because this is my vacation and we're going to do things &lt;b&gt;my&lt;/b&gt; way which means: Whenever I can pay someone else to do it, that's how we're gonna do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as for the fact that I haven't the faintest idea where I'm going, we've solved that problem, too:  I have two locals going with me.  Locals in a matter of speaking - They're both transplants to Chicago, one by way of the hurricane.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them is the &lt;b&gt;Chef&lt;/b&gt;.  He makes the most beautiful food I have ever seen, and yes, it tastes as good as it looks. &amp;gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait for this trip.  I only get to see him for a few hours on the weekend, usually between 2am-7am.  His hours suck compared to mine.  But you know those damn Goths and their night schedules. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::::smiles::::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be gone Feb. 25- Mar. 2.  I have the 24th off, so I will be out and about Thurs., and Fri., because I'm crazy and going to go to &lt;b&gt; Neo&lt;/b&gt;.  Also, since I will be away from work for a week, I'm going to be doing some semi-permanent things to my hair.  It will be exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to what will truly be a singular experience...and the food.  Oh my god, &lt;i&gt;beignets&lt;/i&gt; in the morning and gumbo at night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:43954</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/43954.html"/>
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    <title>Best Pick-up Line</title>
    <published>2006-01-18T17:48:39Z</published>
    <updated>2006-01-18T17:48:39Z</updated>
    <lj:music>The entire Wishfire cd by The Cruxshadows. I blame the chef.</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Was listening to some of the worst, most tired lines on the way to work, but there was one that would totally get me, just because of context alone.  I swear I did not make it up.  Again, this obviously wouldn't have the same effect on your average woman, but I'm special. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, enough preamble:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Hey, &lt;b&gt;Kitten&lt;/b&gt;, would you like to spend some of your nine lives with me?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Thanks to ladypoetess for testing out the new Nudge feature here on LJ.  Hope you're happy, damnit.  I posted.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:43616</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/43616.html"/>
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    <title>Snapshot #25</title>
    <published>2005-12-28T21:26:06Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-28T21:26:06Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Missed these, didn't you?  Admit it...</lj:music>
    <content type="html">"If your [sic] against that email, your [sic] against the &lt;b&gt;War on Phonics&lt;/b&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:43511</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/43511.html"/>
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    <title>The Xmas Card that should have been sent...</title>
    <published>2005-12-22T23:44:45Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-22T23:44:45Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Enjoy the Abuse - Combichrist</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Father,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just sending you Season's Greetings.  I wanted to thank you for all that you have done for me over the years.  Your ability to strike &lt;b&gt;fear&lt;/b&gt; in the hearts of young girls is unsurpassed, and the level of &lt;b&gt;control&lt;/b&gt; you exert over women is unmatched.  With your two-pronged strategy of &lt;b&gt;blackmail and intimidation&lt;/b&gt;, used on both your loved ones and your co-workers, you've managed to become the most despicable man I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.  I, personally, am just thrilled to &lt;b&gt;pieces&lt;/b&gt; we're related.  (By the way, thanks for forgetting to call me for my birthday this year, especially since you told me you would...&lt;b&gt;in writing&lt;/b&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all your &lt;b&gt;broken promises&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your &lt;b&gt;conditional&lt;/b&gt; love, because I did not grow up to be what you wanted.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for offering me money instead of your respect and praise.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for ignoring me after you made your whole little life perfect with another family, and think of me when it is &lt;b&gt;convenient&lt;/b&gt; for you, or out of some misguided sense of obligation my Mother puts into your head.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for &lt;b&gt;hurting&lt;/b&gt; me physically, mentally, and emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making me so &lt;b&gt;afraid&lt;/b&gt; of you for all these years that I could never stand up to you, so that now all that is left is a simmering &lt;b&gt;rage&lt;/b&gt;, and the twisted comfort that you will one day &lt;b&gt;die&lt;/b&gt;, so that I may rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishing you all the love and support you gave me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:43061</id>
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    <title>The Definition of Insanity:</title>
    <published>2005-12-07T01:24:36Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-07T01:24:36Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Remove/Replace - Icon of Coil</lj:music>
    <content type="html">In a given scenario where the variables remain constant, replicating that scenario over and over again hoping to achieve a different result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: Perhaps it is time for some to change the variables, yes?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:whip_hand:42839</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/42839.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://whip-hand.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=42839"/>
    <title>Vacation?</title>
    <published>2005-12-02T02:04:02Z</published>
    <updated>2005-12-02T02:04:02Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Legion - The Endparty</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I know it was just Thanksgiving, but I came back to hell on earth.  The Account Manager I partner with is gone on vacation, leaving me with her desk and mine at the &lt;b&gt;end of the month&lt;/b&gt;.  I hate the end of the month.  It sucks quite a bit, and that is putting it mildly.  So instead of just my problems, I have &lt;b&gt;7&lt;/b&gt; Account Executives, &lt;b&gt;30&lt;/b&gt; brokers and &lt;b&gt;20&lt;/b&gt; processors all calling and emailing me about what seems like every single file the both of us have put together.  The good news is that it's almost Friday.  The even better news is when she comes back on Monday, I'll be off for the day, as it just so happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(No, it &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; a coincidence.  Thanks for sharing.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad news is that I might as well bring a blanket here.  I work 10 to 12 hour days with no lunch, get 80 something emails a day and 30 something calls.  Of course, this also means I'm making massive OT, and money's always good for what ails you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least for me, because I have the things that money can't buy already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'd like to work on what I can buy with my money...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...you know, now that I'm not &lt;b&gt;carrying&lt;/b&gt; someone's ass along with mine.  If you don't make at least as much or more money than I do, we're not dating.  Period.  Actually, I have so many rules now, I'd doubt anyone can fit the bill, which was my plan all along after I left him.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Halo</content>
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