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	<entry>
		<title>Oh shit, NaBloPoMo</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/11/01/oh-shit-nablopomo.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-11-01:b8bb3c95-f498-4010-88ae-b37e6f26ed65</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Argy Bargy" />
		<updated>2008-11-02T04:14:00Z</updated>
		<published>2008-11-02T04:14:00Z</published>
		<content type="html">Um, first post? &lt;br&gt;</content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>The story of me an my love</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/10/21/the-story-of-me-an-my-love.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-10-21:36b04106-5537-4628-b7e0-c4594eb4b98c</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Glurge" />
		<updated>2008-10-21T23:19:00Z</updated>
		<published>2008-10-21T23:19:00Z</published>
		<content type="html">well lets see i really dont know where to start maybe wit the day i
first got together with my one an only true love. it was april 15th
2005 we had just recently started talking again an just decided to give
our relationship one more shot but at the time i had just been through
a lot an wasnt the girl i was when we first met, I was someone i hated
i had no emotions an would not talk to anyone, would not open up an
would not let a man come within 10 feet of me. but that was until chris
he showed me what it was to love again. he took the broken peices of my
heart an slowly mended them back together. from that day on we spent as
much time together as possible, but as you all know there were many
people who did not believe we should be together an to those people
look at us now we are still goin strong. But there was one person who
was out to break us up an you all know who i am talkin about but i will
not say names, everyday i was getting phone calls sayin he is cheatin
or doin drugs, but like a dumb ass i fell into the traps that this
person set an i almost left him many times. I know we do fight a lot
but no matter what i love him with all my heart. back to the story tho,
it was now about august an we were happier than ever when chris asked
me to have his baby i was hesitant at first but one night when we
together an talkin i told him yes an he looked at me like what do you
mean an i replied i want to have your child, but me i didnt think it
would happen but him he was very sure of himself so then we tried an
about 2 weeks later i heard rumors of him cheating on me so i left him
an we had been broken up for two weeks an he had been callin me off the
hook askin if i was pregnant but i refused to take a test but then
after i didnt have my monthly friend for a while i went an took one it
read yes then i said no cant be i will take another one tmrw that one
read yes then i still denied it an got one that read pregnant or not
pregnant the moment pregnant popped up i could not stop myself from
cryin i didnt know what to do we were no longer together an after
everything i had heard i didnt know what to believe. so i walked
downtown an called chris an told him the news the first thing he said
was let me call you back (weird i know) then he calls back an says we
need to see eachother so my friend gave me a ride to where he was an i
showed him the test an he hugged me an told me that he still loves me
an wants so badly to be with me an he kissed me. i didnt know what to
do so i told him i would see him later that night an so for a few
nights we were meeting at the park by where i live an then after about
the 3rd night we were sittin on the bench an he got down on one knee an
held my hand looked deep into my eyes an said"will you be my girl again
i love you with all my heart baby" i could not help but cry. the time
we had been apart was the hardest ever i love him so much an can not
see my life without him. during my pregnancy i was very hormonal an
always yellin but no matter what he stuck by me an was always there he
has always done everything he can for me an i love him so much for
that. when i was hungry he was right there with food if i needed him
wherever he was he would find a way to me. an he would stick by me no
matter what horrible things i would say or do an i know i have done
some horrible things to him but no matter what he is always there, an
he has done his share of things to me an he knows i can not leave him.
an now that our daughter is here he has proven to me that our love is
true. hes not like those other guys that run when a baby is on the way
he was there during the delivery an watched her come out, an has been
with her everday after that. when i look at them together it brings
tears to my eyes to know that i found my one an only true love, i have
found the man i have always wanted to share the rest of my life with,
an to everyone who hasnt met theirs trust me you will it just takes
time i know an even though times are rough things always manage to get
better. O ya an to all you hatin ass bitches tryin to ruin what me an
my hubby got goin on need to back off, i dont care what yall do or say
our love is neverendin an nothin can change that so back off hes takin.</content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>When I feel nostalgia for the corporate world, I think of this</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/10/17/when-i-feel-nostalgia-for-the-corporate-world-i-think-of-this.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-10-17:9178cacd-d150-44a3-8f7c-65b7e7242363</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Office Space" />
		<category term="Chi-tonw" />
		<updated>2008-10-17T14:05:00Z</updated>
		<published>2008-10-17T14:05:00Z</published>
		<content type="html">Caller: Yeah, I wanna come take the test to get into school. How I get there?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: Well, sir, where are you coming from?&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;Caller: Huh?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: Where are you located?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Caller: What?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: You are going to be coming here FROM somewhere. Where will you be coming FROM?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Caller: Oh. Um, [town west of Chicago].&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: OK, that's very easy, we are right off the expressway.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;Caller: Huh?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: We are right off the expressway. You take [expressway] west...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Caller: Huh? Suspretsway?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me:
EXPRESSWAY. You drive your car on it to get places. So you take the
expressway west and get off the Wisconsin freeway junction...&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;Caller: Huh? Junction?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: Yes, the EXPRESSWAY meets up with another EXPRESSWAY at a JUNCTION and then you get on the Wisconsin....&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Caller: Huh? West Carl Street?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: WISCONSIN. Like the state that is DIRECTLY NORTH OF US. &lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;Caller: .......&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: Sir?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Caller: Huh?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: I'm sorry sir, you are too dumb to take the test. ~click~ </content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>There's a lot going on up in here.</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/10/13/you-must-love-me-5.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-10-13:4db3d094-ffdd-4808-b7d5-1e838674f8c4</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Argy Bargy" />
		<updated>2008-10-14T01:15:14Z</updated>
		<published>2008-10-14T01:15:14Z</published>
		<content type="html">Feeling oddly nostalgic; and I don't mean it's odd to feel nostalgia, I mean I'm feeling nostalgia for odd things. Like:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;That Crazy Mean Cat I Used to Have&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;His
name was Owen, and he just turned up on our back porch one day. He was
pretty friendly to the people, but he could not stop picking on my poor
cat Mouse. It got to the point where every day it went like this:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;~Mouse sidles out of my room and glances about warily~&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;~Owen appears from out of nowhere and ATTACKS!~&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;FITZFITZROWR&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;~Mouse disappears for another week~&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Clearly,
something had to change. My roommates and I sat around and talked about
it, and came up with a plan that was so genius, only a bunch of stoners
could have come up with it. We decided that Owen would only respect
Mouse if she defended herself, and there was no way she would ever do
that. Solution? We started throwing Mouse at him whenever he passed by.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Mouse
would hurtle through the air, claws flailing, and inadvertently
sneak-attack Owen. Of course she would take off and hide afterwards,
all O SHI HE'S A-GONNA KILL ME NOW, but after just a few tosses, he got
the hint, and left her alone.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The next thing I am feeling a weird nostalgia for is:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lies My Ex-Boyfriend Told Me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I'm going to have to number these suckers.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;1.
Told me he had been drunk for a year, staying up every night (in his
parent's suburban McMansion, oh ) writing poetry, and drinking a bottle
of Irish whiskey each time. Now, where he got the money for the
whiskey, or the whiskey itself for that matter at the age of 16, I
don't know. But this one actually seemed kind of plausible when
compared to the others.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;2. Like the one where he told me that he
had been in a band that headlined the Roxy and opened for Guns N Roses
etc. At the age of 13. They were called "Kids in the Dark" and they had
a gold record, uh, among his stuff somewhere, he'll find it soon I bet,
but don't say anything to mom cause she doesn't know he was in a band!
At the age of 13! That headlined the Roxy and sold 100,000 copies! He
had complete stories about each of the band members, including the
little detail that the bassist, Mike (who lived in Marin and washed his
dreadlocks in a bucket) sometimes "called" him on the phone. But we
couldn't visit him, because "he" didn't "like" to "meet" "people."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;3.
At the same time as he was living this rockstar life, he was hugely
addicted to heroin. He got it all for free, cause that's how it is when
you roll the rockstar life. But it all caught up to him when he OD'd
and was dead for three days. Amazingly, he recovered.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He referred back to this a lot, as a source of authority; "I know and you don't, because I've BEEN DEAD." *&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;4.
Claimed that he could not masturbate (and therefore NEEDED blowjobs,
more than the average guy, I mean) because he had been picked up and
molested by a bunch of guys in a white van when he was small. The
details changed a bit over the years, and it was pretty chilling when I
realized that this was a lie, too - I had always assumed it was one of
the few nuggets of truth.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Why did I buy all of these obvious
lies? Well, partly because I was very very naive. And I figured that
the stories were so outrageoous, they HAD to be true. But mostly, I
think I had a tendency to overlook that which was clearly not kosher,
all lalalalala I can't hear yooooouuuu when it didn't fit into my
perceptions of how things should be.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;That'll do for now. I need to shower and ruminate on the poor choices of my youth.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;*Footnote:
Buster has actually been documentably dead. He has yet to utter this
phrase about anything, much less when we are trying to decide what
movie to see or whatever.</content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>In the grand scheme of things, this is trivial</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/10/13/in-the-grand-scheme-of-things-this-is-trivial.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-10-13:1f4b258c-74d1-4235-b15f-20bf4d3b427c</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Argy Bargy" />
		<category term="Goo-goo Eyes" />
		<updated>2008-10-14T01:12:00Z</updated>
		<published>2008-10-14T01:12:00Z</published>
		<content type="html">Me: I’m looking for my special spoon. Have you seen it?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Buster: You have a special spoon?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: Yes. It’s got a long handle and a small spoony thing on the end.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;B: It’s a spoon with a small...spoon? What are you talking about?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me:
No, it’s a long-handled spoon with a small...spoony thing! The part of
the spoon that SPOONS! Did you maybe take it to work and forget it
there?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;B: Um. I do not know. I really don’t look at the spoons all that closely. Why is this one so important?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: I need it to eat yogurt with.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;B: You can’t use another spoon?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: I guess, but it’s more satisfying to eat it with this spoon. Are you sure you haven’t seen it?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;B: ~gazes at me, apparently reevaluating our relationship~&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;B: Uh, no. But I will be sure and tell you if it turns up.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: Pssh, fine. Bet you left it at work and did not even realize the value of that which you had lost.</content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Everything Is Better Naked</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/10/13/you-must-love-me-4.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-10-13:157a2ad0-e3d1-457a-8c3b-2a736b58d5ea</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Gigglesnort" />
		<updated>2008-10-14T01:11:14Z</updated>
		<published>2008-10-14T01:11:14Z</published>
		<content type="html">So we saw this performance art thing last night, with an entirely naked
cast, who danced and flopped around to music, while "clothed" by
ever-changing projections. After the show, there was a Q &amp;amp; A, and
the Knowing Laugher behind us asked a lot of stupid questions that he
clearly thought were clever. I had a bunch of questions I wanted to
ask, too, but didn't as I figured they would be inappropriate, like:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;1. Did you all have Brazilians before you joined the show, or is it mandatory for the cast?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;2. How many of you have had sex with each other, and in what combinations?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;3.
Mike, I noticed your schlong was semi-turgid through much of the
performance. Is it always like that, or are you actually a little
turned on?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;4. If y'all are so free-spirited and open-minded, how
come everything was carefully choreographed so as to avoid labia
sightings?</content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>This should explain a thing or two about me</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/10/13/this-should-explain-a-thing-or-two-about-me.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-10-13:3202f3e3-68be-4f90-ab2c-cd5c5e055396</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<category term="WHY GOD WHY" />
		<updated>2008-10-14T01:09:00Z</updated>
		<published>2008-10-14T01:09:00Z</published>
		<content type="html">When I was a kid, we had hamsters. A hamster is a great pet for a kid -
practically disposable, just one step up from Tamagotchis. They're
cute, but they don't do much, and just as soon as you've gotten used to
them, boom! They die. And they join the other ten or so hammies
eternally dirtnapping in the backyard. And I was basically OK with that
- it was deeply saddening when Hammie Heathcliff kicked it, but after
that, I was toughened up and better able to deal with the sad reality
of mortality. In fact, I credit poor, brave Hammie's passing as helping
me to deal well with the death of my great-aunt, the first human death
I was cognizant of.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Well, to be perfectly frank, my equanimity
when getting that news might have had something to do with the fact
that my sole perception of my great-aunt was of a woman who passed the
time swearing at people and picking her toes. But anyway!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The
memorable deceased included a a couple of hammies, one of whom escaped
and drowned in the toilet, and the other refused pellets and water and
soon passed as well. This was a great tragedy in my young life, so
terrible and romantic, it was not soon to be gotten over. But of
course, I was eight, so when Mom suggested that we go back to the mall
and pick out some new ones, I was game. Especially when she threw in
the added incentive of Burger King.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Naturally, after the great
love my previous hamster compadres had shown each other, I was hoping
to replicate the experience (sans death). Sadly, this second set wasn't
quite so copacetic. They fought constantly; when they weren't sleeping,
their cage was a-rockin with spat after spat. But even that I was
willing to excuse (surely sometimes brothers fight too) (or sisters,
who the hell knows with those things) until one day my brother bullied
me into cleaning the cage EVEN THOUGH IT WAS HIS TURN, and I went
upstairs, grumbling, only to find one of the hamsters lying still and
quiet and the other running about frantically. Curious, I lifted the
lid, and found&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A HEADLESS HAMSTER&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I flung the lid down
and ran screaming, naturally. And my brother was called into action
despite all his best efforts, to fish out the body and give it the
proper ceremonial burial. The remaining hamster apparently liked the
taste of meat a whole lot, because we couldn't feed the thing without
it jumping up and trying to chew off a finger or two. So, sadly, it
ended up starving to death.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And then we tossed it in the garbage and called it a day on the whole hamster thing.</content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>You Must Love Me.</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/10/13/you-must-love-me.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-10-13:66788b89-ded1-4299-9007-53c99ac59bea</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Bake Whore" />
		<updated>2008-10-14T00:59:00Z</updated>
		<published>2008-10-14T00:59:00Z</published>
		<content type="html">We all emit a "please love me" distress signal. Mine is baking things. I used to clean people's houses instead, but honestly, baking things is much more fun, plus it allows me to be out there enjoying the fruits of my labor with everyone else instead of donning rubber gloves and cussing. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;The problem is, I think I am somewhere, on some level, convinced that I'm not worthy of love, and sabotage myself accordingly. How else to explain cakes that taste wonderful but have to be cemented back together with frosting? The brownies that are just a hair overbaked? The transcendentally lovely cookies that need to be chipped apart with an ice pick due to excessive spreading? You get the idea. I try, but only with half my ass, when really the whole one needs to be applied. &lt;br&gt;</content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Welcome</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://whatstherumpus.org/2008/08/28/welcome.aspx?ref=rss" />
		<id>tag:whatstherumpus.org,2008-08-28:63a27453-2116-4718-a222-206a1bf110f0</id>
		<author>
			<name>Belle Plain</name>
		</author>
		<updated>2008-08-28T12:35:32Z</updated>
		<published>2008-08-28T12:35:32Z</published>
		<content type="html">Welcome to my blog. Please check back soon for new entries.</content>
	</entry>
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