<?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-5376742597780889510</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:10:46.304-06:00</updated><category term='Summer'/><category term='Peoria Speaks'/><category term='2009'/><category term='Anger'/><category term='Motivation'/><category term='Unfair'/><category term='Holiday'/><category term='Bridget'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='midlife'/><category term='Stress'/><category term='Peoria.Com'/><category term='Memories'/><category term='Gardening'/><category term='House'/><category term='Loss'/><category term='Government'/><category term='Peoria'/><category term='People'/><category term='Life'/><category term='World'/><category term='bio'/><category term='Life midlife'/><category term='Justice'/><category term='family'/><category term='Buffalo'/><category term='breakup.'/><category term='Pictures'/><category term='Psychotherapy'/><category term='Work'/><category term='Stupidity'/><category term='Movies'/><category term='heartbreak'/><category term='Death'/><category term='Police'/><category term='Life midlife family'/><category term='kids'/><category term='Unemployment'/><title type='text'>A Life In The Day</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;center&gt;Just alot of random thoughts that will probably snowball into explicit rants at some point, open to criticism and speculation by the masses.&lt;/center&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-3691624447737085700</id><published>2009-06-19T20:25:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T22:07:27.400-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='midlife'/><title type='text'>Let's Call This The Half Way Point</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/Sjw7q1mEvDI/AAAAAAAAADg/SEx2wpNzWnQ/s1600-h/thug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/Sjw7q1mEvDI/AAAAAAAAADg/SEx2wpNzWnQ/s320/thug.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349216064536624178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I'm going to be 45 years old! &lt;br /&gt;I figure, with advances in medical treatment and technology, this is probably a safe year to call half way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm going to be 45 years old.... THIS year!&lt;br /&gt;Which is crazy to me, because, and maybe everyone feels this way, but I'm still 25. &lt;br /&gt;See, I made this promise when I was 21 that since 25 was the perfect age (Old enough to know better, young enough to get away with it still), once I hit that age, I was never going to get any older, and I really haven't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, what a weird trip my life has been.&lt;br /&gt;Walk with me now, while I reminisce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My Childhood&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, I was cluelessly sheltered by my Mom, who was struggling herself to deal with my baby brother and the deterioration of her marriage.&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, my Grandparents intervened and let us move from suburban (Buffalo) Kenmore, NY into the flat over their garage in rural Alden, NY.&lt;br /&gt;We stayed in that little one room hovel for five years!! And because my only real upbringing was at the hands of my nerdy, frugal and overtly Catholic grandparents, I had little knowledge of the outside world, other than cheap clothes, the outlawed field behind their house, their friends and Church. My brother and I were raised as if we were twins, dressed and treated alike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My Teenage Years&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was ten, in an effort to get her kids into a better school system, we moved to upscale Amherst, NY, but the place we moved to was not exactly upscale. It wasn't a ghetto either, but it WAS a great place for a kid, with the seemingly endless woods, paved bike trails, pool tennis courts and no shortage of other kids and ongoing adventures.&lt;br /&gt;Now, by ten, my personality was already somewhat developed, and it was not ready for the ever present peer pressure and competitiveness of Amherst. I really just never did fit in and as I grew older, but never grew bigger, my life collapsed into a routine of running, hiding and dodging the other bigger, popular kids that loved to fuck with me as mercilessly as possible. I was a total victim in high school, and I still, to this day, wonder why that was allowed to happen.&lt;br /&gt;It was bad and it shaped some bad traits in me that have lasted my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that all my blogs show up on my Facebook page, and that there are people on my friend's list that I went to high school with, I have no problem talking openly about what I went through back then, knowing that most will simply "not remember".&lt;br /&gt;But names like Chris Guercio, Monte Brown, Tim Bub, Scott Greene, Larry Fineburgh, Jack Armitage, Hank Warden, Michelle Phillips, and other, still light a burning rage in me.&lt;br /&gt;Hell, &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; friends were all kids my brother's age. I could take &lt;i&gt;them&lt;/i&gt; in a fight, and I had a bully mentality with smaller kids, too. Definitely a result of the abuse I took from bigger kids.&lt;br /&gt;Girls? Oh hell no. Girls did not see me and if they did, I couldn't utter the "excuse me" if I had to step out of their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I graduated, I weighed 109lbs. Today, I weigh 200. That is insane to me, that I got this big.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was this big or had the "fight-to-the-death-attitude" I have now while I was in in high school. Monte Brown would have been eating lunch through a straw....&lt;br /&gt;I'm just convinced he's a big fucking pussy now. I know Chris Guercio had a nightmare for a teenage daughter. Jack Armitage is probably in jail with Scott Greene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SjxDdWw_6uI/AAAAAAAAADw/42CjFLRgeYU/s1600-h/Greg_before.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 204px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SjxDdWw_6uI/AAAAAAAAADw/42CjFLRgeYU/s320/Greg_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349224629015669474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My Twenties&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I graduated and was already enlisted in the Army, knowing that the first thing I needed to do after High School, was grow up and get a spine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I ended my teens and started my twenties in the Army. &lt;br /&gt;I got that spine, along with a killer's "take-no-shit" attitude, and an endless class-clown type sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;I also learned about heavy drinking, acid, cocaine, and living on the edge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, looking back, I should have just stayed in. Where would I be now?&lt;br /&gt;This was the first really, life-changing, terribly wrong decision I ever made.&lt;br /&gt;I actually still regret it to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My twenties were the way your twenties should be. Wild!&lt;br /&gt;I partied, rocked, traveled and lived for the moment throughout the entire time.&lt;br /&gt;I learned new trades. Iron Worker. Business Owner. Pool Builder. Mechanic. Steeple Jack and finally truck driver.&lt;br /&gt;I sang in bands that were pretty big in Buffalo. I lived in California, Texas, Washington, DC....&lt;br /&gt;In San Diego, I sang in a band that had the Bass Player and Drummer from Krokus.&lt;br /&gt;That is major! I wonder if Michelle Phillips from high school would make fun of me if she saw me on &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; stage! (Ha ha)&lt;br /&gt;I lived 100 years in that decade and when it ended, my life was transitioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SjxDRa3UG6I/AAAAAAAAADo/5pULFbbUkBQ/s1600-h/greg_perry.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SjxDRa3UG6I/AAAAAAAAADo/5pULFbbUkBQ/s320/greg_perry.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349224423957470114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My Thirties&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my thirties in the midst of a long term relationship with a girl that was just turning 19. &lt;br /&gt;Not my first big relationship, but my first real love, which I managed to screw up.&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it was screwed already screwed up, just due to the age difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, in my thirties, I evolved more. I began to eat super healthy. I worked out religiously. I threw myself into my work. I dealt with the heart ache of that relationship ending and learned to move on. I found spirituality, began thinking deeper and I found myself back in the music scene, promoting bands and clubs.&lt;br /&gt;Once, I almost booked Fuel and Tonic at 3600 seat Shea's Theater, which would have sent me on the way in &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; profession, but my front money never came through and the Concert Promoter dream died.&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I worked in production for Clear Channel, hanging out with rock stars at the 6 Flags Amphitheater outside of Buffalo for 5 years.&lt;br /&gt;My thirties was about growing and learning every and anything I could about life, the world, and trying to discover all of life's secrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a concert for a band called Donna The Buffalo, a jam band from the Ithaca area, that I really dug a lot! I was stoned, dancing and losing myself when a friend of mine confirmed how much I loved that band and then shook his head, questioning "But you listen to Death Metal!"&lt;br /&gt;That one statement described the vast, multi-layered person I had become. My thirties were just an extension of my twenties and towards the end, while down at one of my shows in the city of Buffalo, someone began a game guessing my age. The average answer was 28! &lt;br /&gt;I lived in a great apartment in the greatest neighborhood in Buffalo (North Buffalo on the Hertel Strip), I was financially sound and my future looked great.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't be more pleased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SjxFe0HLhnI/AAAAAAAAAD4/0--FYIA6WgI/s1600-h/gregsmall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 234px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SjxFe0HLhnI/AAAAAAAAAD4/0--FYIA6WgI/s320/gregsmall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349226853096457842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Forties&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My forties rang in with the birth of my first child. My life took another hard turn.&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden, things began going wrong. I lost the bar tending job that I loved, because the owner wanted the girl he cheated on his wife with to have my coveted Saturday nights.&lt;br /&gt;I started and lost my own trucking business. A cop in Tonanwanda targeted me and wrote me bunches of bunk speeding tickets, costing me my license (Which I still haven't gotten back) and my livelihood. My kid's mother and I were at each other's throats. I took on roommates, who fucked up my way of life. I lost my cool apartment and everything I owned.&lt;br /&gt;E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You now those records you still have from when you were a kid? GONE! The furniture you collected? GONE! The clothes you still had from when you were a kid that you can't throw out? GONE! Awards. GONE! My Dad's stuff I got when he died, my Army medals, TV, steroe, computers, PA System, bedding, everything... .GONE!!!&lt;br /&gt;And Bridget, too, lost about everything. As did my infant daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having lost my license, and needing to maintain that type of income I was used to, I learned how to sell Home Improvements. At first, I couldn't sell. I became depressed, and then, just as I worked my way up to the top of my office, I was forced to pick up and move to Peoria, IL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I've been here, we've struggled, bad. I had to learn telemarketing, selling advertising. I hated it, but I excelled at it, working my way up to the top of the office in sales.&lt;br /&gt;When a better opportunity presented itself, I jumped on it, worked my way into the Layout Department as a Graphic Designer and was starting to feel happy again, when that fell apart.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm making ten fucking dollars an hour, as a graphic designer, the going rate in this shit-hole town, but some things still remain.&lt;br /&gt;I have two little girls and my kid's mother and I are still at each other's throats, but we strive to make things work out, and provide the kind've love to our children that we both feel we lacked, growing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I feel optimistic again for the first time in some years, like something big is going to happen. The same way I felt through my twenties and thirties. That greatness may not have eluded me after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; 25. &lt;br /&gt;When we can get away with playing music in the office, we take turns, and for me, it's always extremely heavy metal. I still headbang and thrash.&lt;br /&gt;Another designer, he's 22, listens to classic rock. &lt;br /&gt;I can't get across to him how repetitive that is to me, having listened to it for over 30 years.&lt;br /&gt;The other designer, she's a biker, and listens to classic rock, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But me, I'm still 25, in a mosh pit, losing myself to the savage beat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look to the future and in it, I still see myself the same at 55, 65, 75....&lt;br /&gt;Eternally young, and insistent on never giving in.&lt;br /&gt;My hair flying to the heaviest music, lost in the thrash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to be 45 this year?&lt;br /&gt;No fucking way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-3691624447737085700?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/3691624447737085700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=3691624447737085700' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3691624447737085700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3691624447737085700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2009/06/lets-call-this-half-way-point.html' title='Let&apos;s Call This The Half Way Point'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/Sjw7q1mEvDI/AAAAAAAAADg/SEx2wpNzWnQ/s72-c/thug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-6600090770809033788</id><published>2009-06-14T13:20:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T14:31:33.959-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peoria'/><title type='text'>Whatever Happened To The Unwritten Rules?</title><content type='html'>I will freely admit that I like do some things that many people may not agree with.&lt;br /&gt;Not habitually, but recreationally, I like to smoke pot, and drink Jack Daniels. I'll have a beer on occasion and if I have the money and the access to some good cocaine, I will gladly indulge.&lt;br /&gt;That's about as far as it goes. It's not often that I ever get to have any of these, because, let's face it, it costs money, and I have none. But even if finances were not an issue, I still would keep it to a minimum, just because that's how I prefer it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not sure if this is a generational thing, a regional thing, or a cultural thing, but I'm gonna guess it's probably not generational, since before I moved here, I saw how the younger generation respectfully followed these age old traditions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a major complaint and source of frustration: People who do not share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I moved to Peoria, I never had this problem, but since I moved here, it's glaring. People here do not share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my time, before you buy the car, you test drive it. Same with drugs. You always share a sample between the dealing parties before the deal is done. It's good business, it's polite and it's tradition. &lt;br /&gt;Mi casa, su casa. &lt;br /&gt;It's going to a different place together where you can reasonably agree on the deal that you are about to make, with an informed, educated decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this doesn't just apply to buying and selling.&lt;br /&gt;It applies in social gatherings as well.&lt;br /&gt;If I have weed, and you have weed, we're gonna take turns sharing our weed.&lt;br /&gt;If I'm with a group of people and I'm the only person holding, we're all getting stoned. If I have beer, we're all drinking. If I have blow, we're all gonna be rolling a bill up. No questions asked. No expectations. No hang-ups and no ill feelings.&lt;br /&gt;That's how it has always been... Until I moved here&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;The number of times I've been in a group setting, or in a car, or a conversation with someone, who'll inevitably pull out their stash, pack a hitter, fire it up, then put it all away without a single glance in my direction, with no offer to share or no explanation why none was made is glaringly obvious.&lt;br /&gt;And it happens ALL the time. &lt;br /&gt;Especially in situations where sharing would totally just happen, without question.&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in a car with someone, and they pack a bowl or a hitter or light a joint and smoke it without even asking you if you want a hit is insanely rude. It's totally rude and it's just never done that way. except here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I understand, some straight people are reading this shaking their heads and making misguided judgments, but there &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; a drug sub-culture, with it's own set of by-laws, mostly unwritten, traditions, and expectations that is as real and valid as any other sub-culture we come in contact with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one more reason why I hate Peoria.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-6600090770809033788?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6600090770809033788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=6600090770809033788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6600090770809033788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6600090770809033788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2009/06/whatever-happened-to-unwritten-rules.html' title='Whatever Happened To The Unwritten Rules?'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-4347673375120802621</id><published>2009-05-25T07:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T14:25:37.967-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><title type='text'>Spinning My Wheels.</title><content type='html'>Yes, two posts in one day.&lt;br /&gt;One, positive and upbeat, the other, back to reality.&lt;br /&gt;In other words, not everything has been roses.&lt;br /&gt;Last month, Bridget had a miscarriage, which devastated us both. Although, the pregnancy was unplanned and admittedly not the best timing, it was still a life we created, and the loss hit us both very hard.&lt;br /&gt;Out of that, we decided to try and make our relationship work again.&lt;br /&gt;Let me be real honest here, because that's why I started his blog. So I could put down my feelings and thoughts, without the sugar-coating and see if any sense can be made from those words. Or, if any answers can be found.&lt;br /&gt;There is no fixing my relationship with Bridget. It is not possible, because in my view, that would mean compromises. And with Bridget, there are none.&lt;br /&gt;Bridget's idea of fixing things is me doing everything her way, all the time. It's jumping, when she snaps her fingers. It's all about making her happy, and there truly is no making her happy, because she will always find the dark cloud behind the silver lining.&lt;br /&gt;Perfect example: I am a Ghost Hunter. My group conducts scientific research into places that may be haunted. It is as harmless as can be. We don't drink. We don't do drugs. We don't flirt or co-mingle. But we do spend late hours on an investigation.&lt;br /&gt;The most recent, I was home at 3 in the morning, which is realistically, pretty early. Of course, Bridget snapped, and even went so far as to say that she will never let me go again.&lt;br /&gt;Let me go? LET?? &lt;br /&gt;DO you see why I cannot function when I'm with her?&lt;br /&gt;I am a free spirit, who feels like a bird in a cage. I need to spread my wings and soar, occasionally, but with her, it never happens.&lt;br /&gt;Why? One reason is that other than our kids, we really have little in common.&lt;br /&gt;There is a camping trip coming up. I'll never be able to just go, without a LOT of headaches, accusations, demands, etc, until it gets to the point that I'll just not go.&lt;br /&gt;On top of that, I've been paying a lot of attention to Bridget. Who she is. How she is and I realize that I just don't really like her.&lt;br /&gt;She talks about herself, constantly. We never have conversations.&lt;br /&gt;When she is talking, she never stops talking and no one can get a word in.&lt;br /&gt;She has no consideration for anyone else, and then wonders why she's rarely shown any in return.&lt;br /&gt;Everything is always about her and let's face it, that includes sex, which makes sex into something that I'm never interested in, because it is so one sided.&lt;br /&gt;I'm a sexual being. But I like to get as much as I give, and I have very little incentive to make it good for her, because it's never good for me.&lt;br /&gt;Add to that,the constant barrage of insults, accusations, put downs and demands that endlessly stream from her mouth and I start closing her out, until it comes to a head.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I quit smoking ,and she promises to quit drinking, but last night, she was out of control and things got mildly physical. &lt;br /&gt;I tweaked her nose with my finger, followed by her punching me in the head 3 times, followed by me grabbing her by the arms and putting her in the recliner wit ha warning of how close to losing control she was making me followed by her attacking the laptop, and then telling me how I beat my girlfriend, mixed in with more insults, more ultimatums and some made up plans to leave for the night, which never happened.&lt;br /&gt;That is not me. I'm supposed to be a very calm, laid back person, who has been pushed to fits of insane rage by this person, over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is telling me to leave, to go live my life, to find people that like me and that I like in return, but I cannot, because of two reasons.&lt;br /&gt;One, my kids. I can't be away from them nor can leave them to be trapped in her influences and two, I don't have the money to leave. OR to pay the child support. Or the lawyer it'll take to figure out the child support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuck between a rock and a hard place.....&lt;br /&gt;Where I've been since I met Bridget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-4347673375120802621?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/4347673375120802621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=4347673375120802621' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4347673375120802621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4347673375120802621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2009/05/spinning-my-wheels.html' title='Spinning My Wheels.'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-4948948759638624367</id><published>2009-05-25T07:35:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T14:25:01.412-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gardening'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House'/><title type='text'>Changes In The Garden Of HipKat</title><content type='html'>I hate it when so much time passes by and I haven't updated my blog.&lt;br /&gt;I guess life can get to be such a whirlwind and the last few months, as usual, have been no exception.&lt;br /&gt;On the upside, spring is finally here, or has been for a few weeks now, and I'm so happy. I despise the cold with all my being. Truly, I hate it. &lt;br /&gt;So, with the advent of spring, we planted out first ever vegetable garden - with mixed results.&lt;br /&gt;Tomatoes, Broccoli, @ Cauliflower all went in as plants and are thriving. The Broccoli is budding and the Tomatoes are blooming. The Cauliflower looks very good, too.&lt;br /&gt;But the seeds I planted, Carrots, Radishes, different Bell Peppers, Pumpkins and Watermelon all became victims of the torrential downpours we've had, so Saturday,. I reseeded everything, and I'm feeling pretty optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something else new, I planted my first ever flower garden in the flower bed in front of the house.&lt;br /&gt;What a mess that was, cleaning and weeding it out, but it looks real nice, and I seeded it with some amazingly beautiful plants. I wish I could remember all the names, but I really have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this gardening has had me wondering, do plants have consciousness?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-4948948759638624367?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/4948948759638624367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=4948948759638624367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4948948759638624367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4948948759638624367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2009/05/changes-in-garden-of-hipkat.html' title='Changes In The Garden Of HipKat'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-7192759641774586720</id><published>2009-02-20T18:51:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T17:56:26.874-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Unemployment'/><title type='text'>Showing My Hand On Unemployment</title><content type='html'>Posted for your consideration and opinion, is my story and the details of how I'm appealing the decision by the Illinois Department of Employment Security's decision to deny my benefits, two months into my receiving them. It's a long read, but well worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally, I was getting unemployment, just fine, after I got fired in September. Then in November, my old boss, Matt, called them and told them I was self-employed, which I wasn't. I was working part time.&lt;br /&gt;So they did a phone hearing and in the process, asked me to fax in the work search history I had done to date.&lt;br /&gt;I sent them 9 interviews in 10 weeks, plus listed daily newspaper and internet job site searches.&lt;br /&gt;Well, they denied me, claiming that I was self 0-employed and wasn't doing an active enough search for work.&lt;br /&gt;So I appealed.&lt;br /&gt;A month later, in December, I had a phone hearing with an Administrative judge from Chicago, who went over my job search and asked about my part time job.&lt;br /&gt;Well, he denied me, saying I wasn't doing an active enough job search, so I went online and researched all the regulations and found out a few things.&lt;br /&gt;1, there is no definable number of how many jobs you are supposed to try for per week.&lt;br /&gt;2, they have to take certain things into consideration, including my training and experience (They cannot make me go from being a graphic designer to a burger flipper), what I'm used to making (They can't make me take a minimum wage job, when I was used to making a lot more), the current job situation and availability of jobs that are within my experience and wage AND that job search assistance services ARE considered part of an active job search.&lt;br /&gt;So I appealed the judge's decision based on the above points, and detailed them all in my appeal.&lt;br /&gt;I had a phone hearing last Wednesday with the director of the local office, who wanted my job search history for Nov 9th to Present and I sent in like 5 jobs, plus the internet and paper. Keep in mind that Christmas Week and New Years Week, finding a job would have been about impossible, with most offices closed most of that time.&lt;br /&gt;And SHE denied me, I found out today, for the period of 11/9 to present for not an active job search.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I KNOW they did not make an educated decision, because she didn't include the period prior to 11/9, which is exactly WHAT I was appealing in the 1st place and obviously ignored the code that backs my case up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my Appeal:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REQUEST FOR APPEAL &lt;br /&gt;Hearing held by telephone on 01/07/2009 at 11:00AM by Kathy Steinseifer, E. S. Service Representative, Peoria, IL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All instances of Claimant will refer to Gregory J. Hansen, SSN xxx-xx-xxxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claimant was denied Unemployment Benefits due to “an unrealistic and independent search for suitable work” and was found ineligible for benefits.&lt;br /&gt;Referred to Section 500C of the Illinois Unemployment Insurance Act.&lt;br /&gt;Research by the claimant of The Illinois Unemployment Insurance Act, Section 500C which defines eligibility based on an individual actively seeking work and refers to 56 Illinois Administrative Code 2865.125.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. In the application process, an individual filing for unemployment is not ever advised on how many job searches per week the applicant is expected to perform.&lt;br /&gt;2. Nowhere in the Illinois Unemployment Act, nor the Illinois Administrative Code, does it define the number of job searches an individual claiming unemployment is expected to perform.&lt;br /&gt;3. Upon direct questioning of various employees of The Department of Unemployment Security, no one was able to give a direct answer to the question of how many job searches are required by any individual claiming unemployment benefits. Typical responses were “enough to show an active and reasonable effort to find employment.”&lt;br /&gt;4. The term “reasonable” is not defined in the Illinois Administrative Code or The Illinois Unemployment Insurance Act.&lt;br /&gt;Upon researching the Illinois Unemployment Insurance Act and The Illinois Administrative Code as it pertains to Unemployment, the following discoveries were made in regards to the criteria used to determine if an applicant for unemployment insurance is eligible for benefits and actively searching for work:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. According to The Illinois Unemployment Act, Part XI, Section 500:&lt;br /&gt;An unemployed individual is eligible for benefits for a week only if:&lt;br /&gt;a. He has registered for work and reports at regular intervals in person, by mail or by telephone at an Illinois Department of Employment Security office as required by the Director. (Section 500A and 56 Ill. Adm. Code 2865.125(a)(1)).&lt;br /&gt;b. He has made a claim for benefits at the local Department of Employment Security office serving the area in which he lives. (Section 500B and 56 Ill. Adm. Code 2720.100)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. During the week, he is able to work, available for work and actively seeking work. (Section 500C and 56 Ill. Adm. Code 2865.125)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       &lt;i&gt;An individual is presumed to be unavailable for work if:&lt;br /&gt;     a. After his separation from his most recent work, he has moved to and remains in a locality where job   opportunities for him are substantially less favorable than those in the locality he has left. (Section 500C3)&lt;br /&gt;     b. His principal occupation is that of a student in attendance at, or on vacation from, a public or private school.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; However, an individual enrolled in and attending a Department approved training course may, under specified conditions, be considered available for work. Such an individual will not be required to seek work and will not be   disqualified under Section 603 for work refusal.(Sections 500C4 and 5)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Above Section, in Italics, Does Not Apply In This Instance Since The Claimant Has Not Relocated Nor Is The Claimant A Student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. During the week, he has participated in reemployment services to which he has been referred, including but not limited to job search assistance services.&lt;br /&gt;5. He has served a non-compensable waiting period of one week in which he has met all the eligibility requirements. (Section500D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claimant has asked if paragraph 4, as it relates to reemployment services, would include newspaper and internet search sites and was told that they “should” qualify.&lt;br /&gt;Claimant listed daily searches of the Peoria Journal Star, Monster.com, careerbuilder.com, peoriahelpwanted.com, and hotjobs.yahoo.com in the work search history that was submitted, upon request, to the local Unemployment office. Claimant has been led to believe that these should count as an additional 35 active job searches per week, based on the information given by various agents of The Department of Unemployment Security.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Illinois Unemployment Insurance Act, Part XI, Section 500 goes on to say:&lt;br /&gt;The Department shall consider the following in evaluating the adequacy of an individual’s work search (56 III. Adm. Code 2865.125):&lt;br /&gt;1. The individual’s physical and mental abilities.&lt;br /&gt;2. The individual’s training and experience.&lt;br /&gt;3. The employment opportunities in the area.&lt;br /&gt;4. The length of the claimant’s unemployment.&lt;br /&gt;5. The nature and number of the claimant’s work search efforts.&lt;br /&gt;6. The customary means of seeking employment in the occupation(s) in which the claimant seeks employment.&lt;br /&gt;7. Any other information that would affect the claimant’s work search.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paragraph 2 states that The Department of Unemployment Security must take into account the claimant’s training and experience, which is in Advertising Sales and Graphic Design.  Therefore, The Department of Unemployment Security, by regulation, cannot demand that an applicant look for work outside of his training and experience.&lt;br /&gt;Paragraph 3 reads that The Department of Unemployment Security must, by regulation, consider the employment opportunities in the area. In the course of the phone interview conducted on 01/07/2009, the representative of The Department of Unemployment Security admitted that job opportunities in the Peoria, IL area are bleak. The average rate of unemployment in the Peoria, IL area at the time of the interview, according to statistics, was at or above 10%, which is substantially higher than the national average.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In accordance with Paragraph 6, claimant has used email, telephone and in person visits to search for and apply for gainful employment.&lt;br /&gt;Claimant listed multiple attempts to secure employment in those fields in the work search history that apply to his work experience and training, as submitted upon request to The Department of Unemployment Security.&lt;br /&gt;Claimant has also stated that the lack of a current driver’s license and reliable transportation, and that his reliance on public transportation limits the job search process, which should not count against the claimant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, The Illinois Unemployment Act, Part XI, Section 500 goes on to read that benefits shall not be denied if:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No work shall be deemed suitable and benefits shall not be denied to any otherwise eligible individual for refusing to accept new work under any of the following conditions:&lt;br /&gt;1. If the position offered is vacant due directly to a strike, lockout, or other labor dispute;&lt;br /&gt;2. If the wages, hours, or other conditions of the work offered are substantially less favorable to the individual than those prevailing for similar work in the locality;&lt;br /&gt;3. If, as a condition of being employed, the individual would be required to join a company union or to resign from or refrain from joining any bona fide labor organization;&lt;br /&gt;4. If the position offered is a transfer to other work offered to the individual by the employing unit under the terms of a collective bargaining agreement or pursuant to an established employer plan, program, or policy, when the acceptance of such other work by the individual would require the separation from that work of another individual currently performing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paragraph 2 refers to wages, hours or other conditions offered. Claimant’s last job, at United Metro Works, in Peoria, IL paid the claimant $14.00 an hour and provided full time employment. By regulation, a claimant cannot be forced to accept work that pays substantially less than his most current work experience, or what is “favorable to the individual”, which should include his current rate of Unemployment Benefits. The purpose of Unemployment Insurance is to provide a weekly payment that is commensurate to the applicant’s most recent earnings, as certified by his work and earnings history, and to provide ample time and opportunity to secure new employment that, as shown in paragraph 2, as being “favorable to the individual”. Therefore, it goes against the regulations, as shown, to demand that an individual accept a noticeably lower paying job, outside of the individual’s work experience and training, just to “get off of Unemployment”, a statement made to the claimant during the appeals process.&lt;br /&gt;Claimant has continued to make periodic certifications for benefits throughout the course of this process, as required.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, &lt;br /&gt;Unemployment Insurance is an earned benefit provided to workers who are unemployed due to no fault of their own, so that they can maintain a financial income, until gainful employment is secured, with a limit of 26 weeks. &lt;br /&gt;Because of these repeated denials; the claimant has been unable to maintain his financial obligations, nor provide for his family in the means accustomed to and afforded by his prior work experience. This has also cause emotional duress and family strife, stress and depression within the claimant’s household. &lt;br /&gt;Claimant has been forced to sign up for food stamps, emergency utility assistance and other aid as provided by State agencies, which is an added financial expense to the state and is a source of embarrassment and ridicule within the claimant’s family and peers, which goes directly against the purpose of Unemployment Benefits..&lt;br /&gt;Claimant has also been forced to take immediate work at a noticeably lower wage than his recent earnings history, outside of his most recent work experience, in an effort to secure any income at all, which goes against the purpose of Unemployment Insurance Benefits. The job entails selling specialty advertising to businesses nationwide and pays commission upon collection of any sales made, which is incredibly difficult, given today’s economy and the claimant is currently being paid off of a draw system.&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, &lt;br /&gt;The Denial is for the period of 11/09/2008 through 01/13/2009. The original appeal and the original denial were for the period of 08/31/2008 through 01/13/2009. The original appeal also quoted most of what has been presented here, but little of that was discussed in the phone interview, held on 01/07/2009. This oversight seems to imply that a hasty decision was rendered to deny benefits, based on opinion and not on the regulations as stated in The Illinois Unemployment Insurance Act.&lt;br /&gt;It is not acceptable to expect an applicant for unemployment to live upi standards that cannot be defined since they do not exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claimant requests that, because he has lived up to the expectations as outlined in the Illinois Unemployment Insurance Act, and, because there are no guidelines defining how many job searches per week are required, and, because the decision to deny has been made hastily based on opinion and not regulation, and, based on the above listed findings, the decision to DENY be overturned and that claim for Unemployment Insurance Benefits be APPROVED, effective immediately, and, the debt for the amount paid to the claimant since 08/31/2008 that was requested to be returned to The Department Of Unemployment Security be forgiven, and all benefits upheld since 11/09/2008 be paid immediately.&lt;br /&gt;Claimant requests that this appeal be expedited, due to extreme financial hardship.&lt;br /&gt;Gregory J Hansen, Claimant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-7192759641774586720?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/7192759641774586720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=7192759641774586720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7192759641774586720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7192759641774586720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2009/02/showing-my-hand-on-unemployment.html' title='Showing My Hand On Unemployment'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-3898518389960605678</id><published>2009-02-19T17:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T17:56:43.624-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Justice'/><title type='text'>Karma</title><content type='html'>Just a short note, before I go on my rant about the Illinois Department of Employment Security.&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know, I was un-surreptitiously fired form a job I loved as the manager of the Layout and Design department at United Metro Works back in February.&lt;br /&gt;The claim made to Unemployment, and never substantiated, was that I was making racist comments around the office, something that never happened, and because my boss, Matt had lied about why he fired me, I was granted Unemployment Benefits.&lt;br /&gt;2 months later, Matt called Unemployment and lied again, claiming that I was self-employed.&lt;br /&gt;In a nut shell, I've had an ongoing case with them trying to reclaim my benefits, which I'll go into detail about in another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Karma intervened. Matt and his equally vile wife were awakened at 7:30 this morning by the Police under orders of the Attorney General's office and were placed under arrest.&lt;br /&gt;His house was searched, his employees were also arrested, his offices were searched and computers, files, etc all confiscated. The phone lines were cut, and the building sealed.&lt;br /&gt;Why?? Because Matt, it seems, likes to use clients credit cards to spend at will on everything from his own bills to food for the office, to parties, etc.&lt;br /&gt;The IRS is investigating him, and the lawsuits are lining up.&lt;br /&gt;Hooray for Karma!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-3898518389960605678?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/3898518389960605678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=3898518389960605678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3898518389960605678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3898518389960605678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2009/02/karma.html' title='Karma'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-5468536272074736506</id><published>2009-02-15T13:17:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T13:30:44.491-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buffalo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><title type='text'>Tragedy Outside of Buffalo, NY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SZhs5iVy6-I/AAAAAAAAACU/ymyR_IbkvCo/s1600-h/375-Local_tailplane_crash_Wippert.standalone.prod_affiliate.50.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SZhs5iVy6-I/AAAAAAAAACU/ymyR_IbkvCo/s400/375-Local_tailplane_crash_Wippert.standalone.prod_affiliate.50.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303108296955325410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I waited so long to post anything on this. The plane crash Thursday night, near Buffalo really hit me hard.&lt;br /&gt;First, it was within a mile of my Mother's house. Slightly further to my Brother's.&lt;br /&gt;It's a neighborhood that I know people in, although I did not know the people in the house that was destroyed in the crash.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, it's the fact that it was close to home that affects me. That people there are so closely knit and that everyone will be affected on some level.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because I'm not there to grieve with my fellow Buffalonians that makes me feel so empty.&lt;br /&gt;Or that I have driven up and down that road, so many times, that I can picture the houses , the landscape, where that road goes to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that plane only had a few hundred yards to go and it would have been in a corn field, and the irony of that makes me wonder why one house could be pinpointed to be a target for the fiery deaths of so many people, many of whom are very important to their peer groups. I mean above and beyond being family members.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city is shaken by this, I know. The Buffalo Sabres played the following night, a game that they could have postponed, and turned in a spirited effort in defeating one of the best teams in the NHL, and for a few hours, the city was able to be together, joined by one of Buffalo's best features: The sense of community our sports teams provides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for the loss of life there, and I pray that this tragic event can be quickly put behind us as we move forward in our own lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-5468536272074736506?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/5468536272074736506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=5468536272074736506' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5468536272074736506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5468536272074736506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2009/02/tragedy-outside-of-buffalo-ny.html' title='Tragedy Outside of Buffalo, NY'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SZhs5iVy6-I/AAAAAAAAACU/ymyR_IbkvCo/s72-c/375-Local_tailplane_crash_Wippert.standalone.prod_affiliate.50.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-1978478329889845156</id><published>2009-02-07T08:36:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:30:33.859-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2009'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><title type='text'>Missing in Action??</title><content type='html'>Wow, I didn't realize that it's been three months since I wrote anything. It used to be everyday.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's how it goes with these things. Very few can commit to it on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;So, here we are. A new year. I gotta say, 2008, good fucking riddance. It was the worst year ever. I never suffered more heart ache, financial loss, and day to day misery in one year in my life. It started GREAT, when the baby was born, but right after, it crashed and burned, and Bridget is in the center of all of it. Her affairs, her drinking, her selfishness, it's gotten to where I believe she is certifiably crazy. She has no concept of the world around her, because she's lost in her own fantasy world, where she is the center of attention, the hottest, most talented, smartest and most deserving person there is.&lt;br /&gt;Here's Bridget's life, in a nutshell. She wakes up, with the kids, at about 10 AM, then spends the day on the couch, doing as little as possible until I get home. By then,the baby has only eaten once. Bridget is still on the couch, where she'll stay until the kids go to bed. Then she jumps online and MySpace's for awhile, takes a shower and then she's up, all night, talking to one of the two online relationships she's had going on.&lt;br /&gt;On weekends, she does nothing. I do it all.&lt;br /&gt;Harsh statement: If I woke up to find her gone or that she had died in her sleep, it would be nothing but a relief. She's a monster, a leech and contributes nothing to this planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, to top it off, we were so poor at the end of the year, people were donating FOOD to us!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's behind me how. I'm coming into 2009 with alot more optimism. And I may have regressed a little in '08. Back to where I let people push me with out pushing back. &lt;br /&gt;In 2009, I made on resolution. No more. I'm not standing for it. It's my way, or the highway, even if I'm the one that has to get on it. If you are not with me, or behind me, then I have no use for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news.....&lt;br /&gt;I did finally get a new job. It doesn't pay alot, but it's full time, and right now, the economy is Peoria, is horrible. Any jobs, are far and few between, and no one is paying good money to start anywhere, because people are so desperate to work, they'll take what ever they can get.&lt;br /&gt;But the guy I work for, is a good guy. I like the offices (he has several companies, and I work between different offices as a graphic Designer/Sales person), I like the people that work for him and you can tell, he takes care of the people that are loyal to him.&lt;br /&gt;Still, a ticket out of Peoria is at the top of my wish list. Nothing against the people, but I cannot raise my kids here in a bad school district and be broke all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have taxes coming up, which is going to be huge this year, in paying bills, and getting the things I need, like my license back, for one and I have another appeal with unemployment soon, which is several thousands of dollars in my pocket, should I win, which I should, so financially, things are looking up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO fuck off and die, 2008, I won't miss you, but I did learn a few lessons: Take care of yourself, because no one is going to take care of you, for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-1978478329889845156?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/1978478329889845156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=1978478329889845156' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1978478329889845156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1978478329889845156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2009/02/missing-in-action.html' title='Missing in Action??'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-1683104221212012182</id><published>2008-11-05T18:52:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:21:38.590-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Government'/><title type='text'>And Now, A Sigh Of Relief....</title><content type='html'>It was about 10:15 or so, while watching the webcast from CBS News, after an hour of trying to switch back and forth between them and the Fox webcast, that Katie Couric proclaimed "This is a CBS News breaking story. With victories in California, Oregon and Washington State, CBS is now projecting Illinois Senator Barack Obama as the winner of the 2008 Presidential Election...." and the tears started to fall. &lt;br /&gt;Bridget was crying too, but I remember the feeling of elation that came over me. I spent so much time working for and debating for the Obama campaign, that it almost felt like a close relative had won, or that I had won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, I had. We all have. Now I'm not going to jade myself into taking every bit of Obama's campaign promises at face value, but it's not about the promise of free health care, tax cuts, or the end of a war that I've vehemently been against.&lt;br /&gt;It's about the message. The reminder that America is a country by the people as much as it is for the people and it takes all of the people to make it all work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think too many of us have become dependent on the government sponsored free ride and have turned a blind eye to the fact that we are slowly being enslaved.&lt;br /&gt;The message is that together, we can make the American Dream that our founders foresaw a reality. By paying attention to each other, by taking care of the little things and by not allowing ourselves to be ruled by fear and oppression, we can be that America that we all dream of, but few have realized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama, to me, is inspiration, like I saw in film clips of John F Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and others that were able to have people hang on their every word.&lt;br /&gt;From the first word that comes out of his mouth, I am paying attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will the United States be some Utopian society in four years? I doubt it. There will still be countries that hate us, and some that adore us. There will still be people that are homeless and impoverished. There will still be debt. But above all of that, I believe that there will be hope. And hope is it takes to make anything happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the Clinton years, when people made less money, but had more. I remember that there was a general good feeling about life in general and I miss that so much, that I will do whatever I need to see that come back. I have been inspired by Yes, We Can, and am committed to turn that into, Yes! I Will!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-1683104221212012182?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/1683104221212012182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=1683104221212012182' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1683104221212012182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1683104221212012182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/11/and-now-sigh-of-relief.html' title='And Now, A Sigh Of Relief....'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-6229188117583099568</id><published>2008-11-01T22:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:21:18.046-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Government'/><title type='text'>Vote For Change</title><content type='html'>Tuesday, November 4th is one of the most monumental Presidential Elections in many years. Fighting two wars, the economy in turmoil, escalating debt, job loss, wages going down, costs going up, and a country in a civil war between Conservatives and Liberals.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot tell you who to vote for, but if nothing else, please, just go vote!! 527 votes decided the 2000 election, so yes, every vote counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, take into account everything we've seen and heard over the last months. Both Candidates have their good and bad points, as would be expected, but in this election, radical change is what is needed.&lt;br /&gt;Neither candidate’s promises are set in stone, until they become approved by Congress and signed. And both candidate’s promises will most likely be somewhat different in structure when and if they are seen through. I believe, and his record shows, that a vote for John McCain is a continuation of what we've seen in recent years. No matter what he promises, his policies are still not that different from the current administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama is untested and many feel his inexperience could lead to poor decision making.&lt;br /&gt;McCain has been the subject of a lot of talk about his health and his record, when voting with the current administration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama's promises have been questioned. Obama has been so overly scrutinized, more so than any candidate in my memory, which is typical of Conservatives, yet has still managed to lead in the polls. McCain's promises are very suspect, but in light of all the finger pointing towards Obama, he has flown under the radar, using Governor Palin as someone to take the mudraking that should have been pointed at him..&lt;br /&gt;Polls aside, only one man can affect the type of radical change this country needs. Making a commitment to changing your life in a radical way is extremely difficult, yet almost always reaps rewards, and I believe that Barack Obama is the candidate that can and will affect that change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one can say that the last eight years have been satisfying or that their lives, overall, are better now than in 2000. Wouldn't it be something to have less to complain about and more to look forward to? Wouldn't it be something to know that the rest of the world looks upon us with admiration again, instead of fear and disgust? Wouldn't it be something if every man, woman and child was able to walk into a hospital and receive the treatment they require and not have to worry about how to pay or if they can even receive treatment, because they are not insured? Wouldn't it be something if our children's education became a forefront of our lives and our country's education system was held in regard instead of contempt?&lt;br /&gt;John McCain IS a continuation of the type of government we've seen and grown accustomed to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've all said that it would be great if a President wasn't a spoon fed politician, but one of us. One of the guys. One of the people that have been where we are, struggling, from a broken home, underprivileged. Someone that worked their way up and became a President FOR the people, for a change, and not for the lobbyists. Someone who has the same ideals, goals, dreams and imperfections as the rest of us.&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama is that candidate. PLEASE, I'm begging you to look past the rhetoric and into the core of what this country needs and deserves. Look past your misgivings and fears. Look past your hang-ups and boundaries and take a leap of faith. Look past your party affiliation and look at the individual that can lead this country out of the hole it's dug itself into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On November 4th, Vote for us, We, The People. Vote for a better place to raise our children. A better country to wake up to every morning. A future that is filled with hopeful expectation and not uncertainty. A nation that is striving to grow and excel, not trudge through day to day depression and listlessness. A nation of people who are working together to make all of our lives better. A stronger nation, where the weakest link isn’t as weak as we’re seeing today.&lt;br /&gt;On November 4th, please, take time to vote and please, Vote for Barack Obama!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-6229188117583099568?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6229188117583099568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=6229188117583099568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6229188117583099568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6229188117583099568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/11/vote-for-change_01.html' title='Vote For Change'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-5582283883877404849</id><published>2008-10-26T11:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:21:02.302-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Government'/><title type='text'>Of Civil Wars</title><content type='html'>Seems like conflict is all around me these days, and while much of it still comes from my inner need to sound off about bullshit, a lot of it stems from the world we live in.&lt;br /&gt;This election, for one, has been a cause of serious "bad blood" between people who were, if nothing else, at least civil to each other.&lt;br /&gt;I'm seeing a War Between The Roses, as each side belts out why they are voting for one, or why they are not voting for the other.&lt;br /&gt;I'm a staunch, die-hard Barack Obama supporter, and I've gotten so caught up in this fight, that sometimes, it's just hard not to take a swing whenever the opportunity is there. And I've taken my share in return, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt; For me, I believe Obama represents the voice that is screaming for a radical change in this country and McCain represents the same thing we've had, which has sent this country down the tubes.&lt;br /&gt;Obama may not have a lot of experience, but McCain and Palin are surrounded by controversy and poor decision making.&lt;br /&gt;McCain's advanced age worries me, both for his ability to remain physically healthy and his chances of declining mental skills.&lt;br /&gt;Palin is a joke.&lt;br /&gt;Obama's platform matches my way of thinking more so than McCain's.&lt;br /&gt;Obama actually put some thought into his choice of a running mate by selecting someone with a lot of experience and can provide guidance in the area he lacks the most; Foreign policy.&lt;br /&gt;Palin brings nothing to the White House, other than a pretty face. McCain may as well have picked Paris Hilton.&lt;br /&gt;Republicans = Capitalism and Communism and favorable breaks for the people who deserve them the least; Rich People.&lt;br /&gt;Obama identifies with the generation that covers the largest segment of the population: Mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we're entering the stretch run, I guess it's all going to come down to what happens on November 4th, but in the meantime, I find myself still feeling incredulously curious as to how anyone could be supporting McCain.&lt;br /&gt;Does he make some good points and have good ideas? Well sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;On the other hand, are some of Obama's ideas a little bit suspect? Of course they are. No candidate could ever have all the answers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;But this country needs shock treatment right now, not a warm compress and a Band-Aid. McCain still represents the status quo and that's the bottom line. Status Quo = Same ol', same ol'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, somewhat related, seems certain people have again shown themselves for who they truly are.&lt;br /&gt;Controversy surrounds me, being as outspoken as I am, and when people can't handle the truth, due to their thin skins, I have no remorse over telling it to them.&lt;br /&gt;If someone, a perceived friend, is doing something you find offensive, in this case an avatar of the kid pissing on Obama, an anti-Obama symbol, not pro-McCain, and you ask kindly to take it down, as you see it as offensive, and the retort is a smart-ass remark, followed by a pack of lies, which are shown to be lies, but then repeatedly flung back in your face, I believe that I have every right to speak out. Well, that happened recently and in doing so, I find myself ostracized from a segment of a local online forum. A segment so cliquey (which I loathe) and so frightful of anyone telling the world what superficial chumps they are, blinded by their need to be upheld as social icons, that they just try to recruit people to defend their shameful honor and, in a pack mentality, separate me from their ballpark. Albeit, briefly, the effects will be long lasting, I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it's Sunday, I'll finish with a resounding "Go Bills!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-5582283883877404849?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/5582283883877404849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=5582283883877404849' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5582283883877404849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5582283883877404849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/10/of-civil-wars.html' title='Of Civil Wars'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-4283534803304490489</id><published>2008-09-26T01:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:20:38.704-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Government'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><title type='text'>Hello. Welcome To My Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 7px; padding-right: 7px; padding-bottom: 7px; padding-left: 7px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font: normal normal normal 13px/1.22 arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Alot of people have been asking me why I've been so irritable lately. Distant and snide. Even angry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Maybe part of it is the situation I've been in. But that's not the real reason, it's just a reflection of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I look around and I realize that we live in a country whose citizens have been misled. We've been conquered and oppressed by a omnipresent government that has us in fear and keeps us demoralized. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;We're supposed to be a Democracy, but a Democracy's basic philosophy is that when you have the power, you use it to help the people in your community that cannot help themselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;That was the basis of the constitution that was written by people who fought a revolution against England, whom we are taught that we escaped from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;We're taught that we live in the greatest nation on earth. But we don't. We're far from the worst, but we're not the best. People in England live a higher standard of life, have a national health care plan and live longer than we do on average.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;We're taught that in Cuba, the people are slaves to the government, but they have a higher rate of health care than we do, much higher. Ours is one of the worst.  We have a higher infant mortality rate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;We all hate those cowards in France, where they have a higher standard of living, better education, free health care and they live longer than us, on an unhealthier diet. Where protest against the government is encouraged. And the government is responsive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Chrisitianity is hypocritical to me, not because of the fairy tales, but because the basic fundamentals of the Bible and of Christianity is to help your brother. Let him lean on you, when he's weak. Care for your fellow man. But few follow that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;It's easy to be blind to it. You don't need to make alot of money. When I was trucking, I made 30 to 40 thousand a year. Not great, but I had insurance, I paid my bills, I drove a nice car, I partied on the weekends and I ate out or ordered in most of my meals. I was blind to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Now, I'm broke. I made 193 dollars last week and 125 this week, but I'm not complaining about that. Thank God for unemployment. Bridget and I are living together because it gives us the best and only chance at meeting the economical needs of our family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm a victim of the world I live in. My best age of awareness is the last ten years, where I have seen this country go to hell. I watch the things that are happening and I cannot believe my eyes. I don't have insurance, which means that if something terrible happened to me, I'm dead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The fallicy is that they HAVE to take care of me, but I can't pay hospital bills. I have no insurance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;This country is a run away train, and I cannot belive that every man and woman isn't demanding change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Other than Bridget, a few on here and other places, I'm the most passionate person I know, regarding the impending impact of when we hit rock bottom and I Cannot understand why everybody is not marching in the streets, making a stand, demanding better from our leaders. I certainly cannot understand why anyone would support someone that does not have a plan for change. Or even a cry for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Every sense I have tells me that electing John McCain will be the biggest mistake this country could make. Perhaps Obama isn't a senior senator with a life's history of serving in Washington. Perhaps Obama's confidence is seen as elitism by the brainwashed, but Obama is the only chance between the two for change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I know this in my heart and I know that John McCain is one big red flag that people are too blinded by their fear of standing up to see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm not posting this to start another of the endless fights that are occuring in the Civil War, raging between Liberals and Conservatives. I only know through life experiences that a Conservative President, especially now. is nothing but bad for the people of this country that is ruled by greed and corruption.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;There are two great scams in this country that we are taken in by, and that is the system of money &amp;amp; taxation and the Health Insurance Industry, and I do not trust a man that has 18 houses, a private jet and a collection cars over a man that has one house, one car and a bicycle, and my angst at the people who are ready to lay down and keep taking it by the policies that have destroyed our spirit and our freedom is growing deeper everyday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I am not ignorant to the methods of government and the way things happen. I sickened by it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-4283534803304490489?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/4283534803304490489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=4283534803304490489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4283534803304490489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4283534803304490489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/09/hello-welcome-to-my-hell.html' title='Hello. Welcome To My Hell'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-7127337008037502350</id><published>2008-09-12T23:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:19:56.564-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><title type='text'>The Bucket List</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I often realize, in a moment of clarity, what a hypocrite I can be. I think I have it all straight and then I realize that I let myself get off track, and it frightens me how easily and unnoticed that it happens.&lt;/div&gt;I saw commercials for the bucket list, when it was first released to theaters. But I didn't have much ambition to go see it, nor even thought much about the movie. Just another wacky comedy, but with two legends in the lead roles.&lt;div&gt;But I just watched it with Bridget and it got me thinking. I'm so terrified of my own death, and yet I always curse my life. I've been thinking that I had been cursed, with everything going on lately, and I think it may have been me that I was cursed by in the first place, from letting myself be blinded.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Bucket list is about two men in their last months, who become friends after sharing a hospital room. As a last gesture at living life, they compile a list of things they need to do before they die, and off they go on a wonderful adventure..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't give too many details, but each man saves the other in some way, and at the end, their time together was the best in their lives.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I loved the ending.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now, I'm sitting here, thinking about my last days when they come. Fortunately, I'm still young enough to believe that it's a long way off, and probably will never come for me anyhow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At least, hopefully, not before I can achieve enough realization to not lose sight of myself anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-7127337008037502350?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/7127337008037502350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=7127337008037502350' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7127337008037502350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7127337008037502350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/09/bucket-list.html' title='The Bucket List'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-3986112234236048562</id><published>2008-09-09T09:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:19:03.270-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loss'/><title type='text'>Past Lives</title><content type='html'>You know, in my past life, I must have been a real asshole, on Hitler level and this time around, is the punishment, because short of going to jail, nothing good has been happening, and everything bad that can happen, is. I've been a shining example of Murphy's Law; Anything that can happen will, and in my case, that's true if it's bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In June, I told my landlord that the next few months were going to be rough and that rent was going to be late, most likely over that period, and have to be paid in payments. He accepted that, we shook on it, and I have kept to that, having kept it to where I'm only half a month behind.&lt;br /&gt;In mid-August, I laid out my plan to be completely caught up by the end of September, which he again agreed to, and now, all of a sudden he dumps this unreadable spreadsheet in my lap accusing me of owing him more than $1600.00! A far cry from the $890,00, which I can prove via receipts and cashed checks.&lt;br /&gt;So I email this proof to him, along with a reminder of our agreements and include another agreement the property manager he employed at the time made with us on giving us a half month's break on the rent, because this place was filthy, dirty and bug infested when we moved in which we cleaned at our own expense.&lt;br /&gt;In essence, with that credit applied, I owe him $25.oo, plus the month of September, which would actually be covered by our security deposit. I've asked him to use that deposit if he needs the money and I'll replace it, which would make us current.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here was his response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;Greg,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;I am following through with the eviction.  It is already in the hands of  my attorney Troy Roberts.  I am finished with you as a tenant, Even if you come  up with the amount owed on the balance sheet we will ask the Judge for a  Forcible Entry and Detainer order and we will get the order.  You are out.  If  you are out of the house prior to being served you can save yourself the  expenses of court cost, service and my attorney's fees.  Otherwise those  expenses will be added to the judgment against you.  Perhaps you should spend a  few hundred dollars with your own attorney and have him of her explain the  situation.  In 20 years and a lot of evictions I have never lost in court.  The  judge will give you 7 to 14 days to get out,  If your still there after the  order date we will have a deputy stand by while Roger and his crew set your  stuff on the curb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;Nothing like plying yourself on a guy's sense of morality, or humanity. I mean, I have babies, for crying out loud, and I've been pouring money into this guys pocket on a weekly basis for the last few months. Is he in his rights to dothis? Well, sure, I owe him money, but c'mon. It's not like I'm months behind. Or habitually late. I hit a rough spot and let him know from the beginning. He made agrements with me and now he's backing out. My fault for not getting them in writing, but I'm old school. I believe a person's word is binding. My mistake.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;Making it worse, I lost my damn job, suddenly last week and am starting a new one this week, which is a financial blip, at the worst possible time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;So who was it, Hitler?? Atilla the Hun?? Was I guy that crucified Christ? Jack the Ripper??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;Whoever it was, I must have been a real son of a bitch, in another time who fucked people over often, because right now, I'm totally fucked.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;To who or whatever it is that's running this big show "I've had ENOUGH!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;Just a side note, I had to break down and employ a touch of censorship to stem the tide of scum bag losers that insist on making anonymous comments, so now you have to be registered to comment. I apologize, but certain assholes force you to make changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-3986112234236048562?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/3986112234236048562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=3986112234236048562' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3986112234236048562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3986112234236048562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/09/past-lives.html' title='Past Lives'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-3912626374925971675</id><published>2008-09-01T19:36:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:18:10.908-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peoria.Com'/><title type='text'>Labor Day Weekend Fun</title><content type='html'>Ahh, friends. I love my friends and this weekend, we had a blast together.&lt;br /&gt;Friday night started off with a Birthday party for MsGem, our adopted group mom, at Uno's, downtown. What a blast as a bunch of people attended and we all ate drank and laughed for four hours in a private banquet room.&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of the evening was the entertainment, when I got conned, err, bribed with free Guinness, to be the stripper! Tear off t-shirt, blue boxers, animal print thong and a yellow tie completed the ensemble as I burst into the room to the sound of "I'm Too Sexy..."&lt;br /&gt;I guarantee that was the best lap dance MsGem has had in ages!!&lt;br /&gt;There's a link to the photo gallery, if you click on the title of this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, Chef Kevin had a BBQ for a bunch of us and it was so nice. Great weather, great food and great friends. Even the Republicans! And I guess my Pasta was a hit!! Nothing like a little New York special for the mid westerners! Now if I can just get them to make me some wings the way I miss from back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week, we're having Brunch at Hometown. The first event that I came up with and put together. I'll have to call there tomorrow and let them know we're coming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-3912626374925971675?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.photoshow.com/watch/aF5tK8zf' title='Labor Day Weekend Fun'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/3912626374925971675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=3912626374925971675' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3912626374925971675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3912626374925971675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/09/labor-day-weekend-fun.html' title='Labor Day Weekend Fun'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-3174249952600559321</id><published>2008-08-29T15:41:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:17:17.004-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><title type='text'>A Real Bloody Mess</title><content type='html'>Man, this has just been a week.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so emotionally drained right now, I just want to go somewhere dark, curl up and drift off for good.&lt;br /&gt;Last Sunday started with the much anticipated and talked about move. Bridget finally packed her stuff and moved out.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night was a journey in relaxation. I cleaned the house, watched a movie, had the place just the way I like it, and felt the tension finally start to drain out of me, even though I unexpectedly missed my kids in a way I couldn't have imagined beforehand. The place was all mine though, my life was completely in my hands and I was ready to start rebuilding from the ground up.&lt;br /&gt;But of course, it couldn't go as planned. There had to be a monkey wrench thrown in by the biggest monkey; Her boyfriend! Seems he had a change of heart somewhere between his desperate pleas for her to move in with him and her actually doing that.&lt;br /&gt;I told her that maybe he was just a little overwhelmed and nervous and that once she got there it would all work out.&lt;br /&gt;At least I hoped it would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning, first thing, I called Cilco, because I had to send them a little less than the 300 bucks they wanted, and was rudely told "too bad, you're getting shut off!" with my desperate pleas falling on deaf ears.&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, that night when I got home, no power. And a looming $840.00 bill to turn it back on: No way I could raise that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night Bloody came over to explain why he was gonna make Bridget move out and that was just too surreal. Here I am, finally feeling free, and my power's off and the dude that she took my kids away to live with is sitting on my porch basically telling me that he's gonna send her back.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, that night I learned that having no power is the worst! You can do nothing in the dark, but sit and wait for sleep to arrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I spent the next two nights at a friends house and then on Thursday, thanks to Bridget putting it in her name, the power came back on and that night, she came back, as he basically dumper and her things here.&lt;br /&gt;No clutter free house, as I had ached for. No Peace and Quiet. No "Me against the world", all alone, on my own, to rediscover myself and to fix what is broken and make use of this time alone to take a step towards bettering myself, my life and my situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night was surreal as Hell. I think I was in shock, because a summer's worth of anxiety and planning, once off the launch pad, never had a chance to clear the tower, and now it was going to be delayed. I put up with 8 months of hell, knowing it was going to be worth the payoff of being able to have total control over my life again.&lt;br /&gt;OK, I'm sorry if I sound selfish, I mean, it was great to have my kids back, and it felt good to be able to give Bridget a safe place to be, but everything is at my expense, and now, everything I had been saying about her situation with Bloody, was coming true. You cannot possibly know someone well enough to make a decision like moving in together in a few weeks. And I know there are some underlying issues and reasons for this happening, besides his excuse that "it just wasn't going to work out!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surreptitiously, I like to believe that this all happened for a bigger reason, based more on the cosmos and the alignment of the stars and planets.&lt;br /&gt;Bridget and I, once, were destined to be together, but staying together was up to us and it didn't work.&lt;br /&gt;We've been at each others throats forever, seemingly, so I think that before we part ways for good, the force that controls all stepped in and used Bloody as a pawn to come between us and everything happened so that we could have some time together where everything is peaceful, and there are no relationship issues, or anything like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I pissed at Bloody? Well, yeah, of course. I looked forward to her moving out for months and I celebrated in my own way, the night she was gone, but like everything else, it can't ever just work out. There always has to be a speed bump. And he promised her the world, and then snatched it away, putting alot of people in an awkward position and the very worst part, displacing my kids, and leaving them confused. I cannot forgive that above all else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-3174249952600559321?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/3174249952600559321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=3174249952600559321' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3174249952600559321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3174249952600559321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/08/real-bloody-mess.html' title='A Real Bloody Mess'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-7483192779653298782</id><published>2008-08-08T09:37:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:16:06.836-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='World'/><title type='text'>One World</title><content type='html'>If anyone has ever visited my MySpace page ( http://www.myspace.com/hipkatix ), you'd see that one of the long time mainstays on my top friends list is One Nation Earth.&lt;br /&gt;I recently received a personal message from the owner of that page, and I was so moved by it, I wanted to share it with my readers, along with my response.&lt;br /&gt;This is pretty lengthy, so I apologize if reading it all is difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hi,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I am very glad you too want to make a difference in our world.  :O)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I reviewed your MySpace page a few days ago and read your opening  message; your view on life is exactly like mine use to be (and is also very true  regarding how life can beat the shit out of you and then laugh in your face as  it stabs you in the back).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Like you, I have been through "Hell" on this  earth and it has molded me into the person I am today. What was meant to destroy  me only made me 'stronger' and more wise to the non-intelligent Self-Destruction  our species is reflecting into this Mirror called Life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You could say  that I use to be my own worst enemy, and I still have the battle wounds of my  severe mental battle of Good versus Evil. When I use to get angry with our  Creator and Father God I use to cut myself all over with razors and knives to  ease the severe memories of being the little child that was sexually molested,  beat and mentally abused by my Church's Baptist preacher for years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The  pure anger I held in my heart for our Father God was more severe than anyone  could ever imagine because I remembered and awoke in the night screaming for  someone to save me from the "Living Nightmare" of being the little 'Innocent'  that was read the Bible every night after the pastor was finished with me. I  remember every word he read to me because he always read from the book of  Revelations and he use to tell me that I would grow up to become the one called  the Antichrist in the last chapter of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It was like someone put a  blender in my head and chopped up my brain, so as a young teen I turned to  illegal drugs to ease the "Pain" of simply remembering what I only wanted to  forget. And to make a long story short... I grew up to become a hired chemist  that self contracted out to the different Mafia's in America manufacturing their  best selling product called MDMA (Ecstasy).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I think the main reason I  turned to the Mafia as a young teen is simply because I did not want to be  fucked with anymore, and also because I did not care if someone took me out of  this hell on earth because I had already faced the worst demon in this reality  (a lying and deceiving child molesting so-called Christian Preacher that beat  the shit out of me and told me God hated me for being evil and  sinful).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So I turned to the Mafia, drugs and lot of money to fill the  emptiness within me, but the more money I made the more I felt like shit because  I knew I had grown up to become the Bad Guy in this story called life, and deep  within me I was still a scared and little Child searching for love and  acceptance in this world, but I had become my own worst enemy as I screamed in  the Mirror and into my own Broken and Shattered Reflection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Let's just  say that I lived the life every man dreams of in this reality; from being a boy  toy for bi-sexual playboy bunnies to supplying all of the top Topless Bars,  Night Clubs, Lawyers, Doctors and even the Honorable Judge in the back of the  VIP Room with bricks of Columbian cocaine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have lived a life right out  of the movies, but it was not Hollywood for me, it was my living nightmare and  hell on earth. Just imagine a severe mental disorder and "Split" personality  self medicating himself with the most powerful illegal drugs known to man  combined with the pure "Hate" of being the little Child that was told the worst  Lie" ever told to a human being entering into this sick and extremely perverted  reality where grow men rape the little children in the House of God while they  are looking up at the man hanging on the cross and crying out for their loving  Father God to save them from this place called "Hell on Earth!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Imagine  not fearing the so-called Evil or the Fallen Angel in this reality because your  "Mind" is so twisted by the lies of your youth that you start believing you are  really the "One" called the Antichrist. Imagine not fearing “Hell” because you  have already tasted the stench of mans Sins and broken every single Law written  in the Word of God to show your Creator how much you hate Him. Imagine all of  hells hate trapped within your mind as you look out and into this reality of  God’s Children as you fill their “Minds” with the Chemical you are manufacturing  in your chemistry lab, and you have the life of an completely insane Drug Dealer  that believed the spoken “lie” that he was the One called the Antichrist in this  game called Life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So my point of sharing my life’s story with you is to  show you that you are not the only One that has suffered in this Master Plan  called our Lives. We are the Ones that have endured the trials of this life and  we did not give up and take our lives. What was meant to destroy us only made us  stronger, and we are the Warriors in this battle of Good versus Evil and it is  finally time for all of us to wake up and to realize that we (the human species)  are our own worst enemies as we fight against a Mirror Reflection of ourselves.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I stepped past the door called “Insanity” and embraced my so-called  destiny of growing up to become the Antichrist and I cursed the very name of my  Father God as I stabbed the Word of God. I am the “Child” that ran as fast as I  could from our Father God and I studied and practiced Satanism most of my life,  but the more I ran, the more my broken heart was filled with Hate. I was blind  to the fact that life is the Almighty Mirror and we are the little “Children”  born into this life simply searching for what we lost…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The pure hate  flowing through my eyes blinded me to the simple “Truth” that I was fighting a  battle I could not win because I was simply fighting against my own Reflection  in the Mirror as I screamed into my own eyes and hated myself for being the  Child that was Dirty, Worthless and Useless in this God forsaken  World.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So my point is this: “There is nothing for us to fear in this  reality my Brother, because I have faced the most feared in this reality and He  is nothing more than a Spoken Lie told to a little Child while being sexually  molested by His Churches Christian Preacher.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I am the so-called  Antichrist in this mighty movie called life and I am nothing more than a  believed spoken “LIE” told to a Child that only wanted to be loved and accepted  in this reality of Good and Evil. I am the “Mind” that went completely insane as  I walked the razors edge of madness and supplied the youth and teens of this  world with their mental “Pain” killer called Ecstasy, and I witnessed them  dancing at the rave and night clubs trying to escape this “So-called” normal  world where governments murder for the love of money, and people lie, kill and  steal for the love of money because they are worthless and hollow shells of clay  searching for a meaning in this God Damned world of extremely Non-intelligent  Human Beings!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The so-called Evil in this world is “not” what everyone  believes; it is not demons and devils possessing our minds and making us do evil  and bad things. It is “not” the Fallen Angel named Lucifer controlling us or  even the Antichrist deceiving the world into a New World Order and One World  Government; evil is simply all of Gods (Innocent) Children fighting against one  another in this “War” of good and evil not realizing they are the “Good and  Evil” as “ONE!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Welcome my Brother to the answer to your life; I am  simply a Mirror Reflection of you and I am the “Antichrist” and the “Child”  fighting a bloody battle against a Mirror Reflection of ourselves. We are the  entire Human Species separated into Six billion parts and we are blind within  our minds to the fact that we are the ONE searching for ourselves in this Great  Illusion of Numbers. We are the species ruled by Numbers and we are “Blind” to  the fact that “Time” and “Money” are simply great illusions of our great and  powerful (Childish) Imaginations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We are the Ones searching for our  “Worth” in this world and we are blind to the fact that our unseen God is hidden  in the last place we forgot to look; “Within the Reflection of our own  Eyes!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The reason we could not “See” God is simply because we were the  Ones looking ‘out’ and not ‘in’ for our “Unseen” God. The only way for me to  explain this simple and basic truth is like this: Imagine that your reflection  in the Mirror is the Antichrist and the Spirit of Life living behind your “Eyes”  is the unseen Child named God or the Great I AM. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The reason we are  filled with more hate when we hate our unseen God is because we are simply  hating our own “Reflection” in the Mirror for not being Perfect and completely  “Innocent” the way we use to be when we entered into this thing called Reality.  The battle of Good and Evil is basically the “Child” you use to be (and still  are) fighting against Himself and self punishing His self for not being perfect  or good in this reality, and you (and all of humanity) is basically blind to the  fact that True Salvation and Freedom is facing the most evil creature in this  universe called the Antichrist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I want you to imagine my friend that I am  the Antichrist and I am writing you a letter on MySpace; imagine that I am the  most evil character in this Movie called life and this is not a Dream, but  Reality! Imagine that the pages of Revelations are coming true and I am the  “Revealer” revealing the Truth to you because it is finally time for you to  “Wake Up” from the Dream of your Mind and to embrace your True Identity in this  Reality…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now I want you to “Think” about this… How do you destroy and  defeat the Antichrist in this Mighty Game of Chess? How do you destroy your  worst enemy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Imagine if you will; two Kings fighting in the battle of all  times on the Chess Board of Life and all of their armies have been destroyed  leaving only the Two Kings on the battle field. One being a symbol of Evil  (Black) and the other a symbol of Good (White). Now imagine that I am the Evil  King called the Antichrist and I am fighting against you the Good White King  called God, and we are standing face to face on the Chess Board looking into one  another’s Eyes trying to figure out how to end this Game and claim Check  Mate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As you know, Chess is one of the hardest games to win in this  reality because you have to use your Mind and Think real hard to win at it, so I  will help you out and give you a few clues to help you Win this Game called your  “Life.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;First I want you to remember who your worst enemy is in this life  and I want you to remember “Where” you have seen Him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And the answer is:  “Within the Mirror.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Second I want you to imagine that you are now  standing on the Chess Board and you are looking at me (the Dark and Evil  Antichrist) and there is a Mirror right in the middle of the Chess Board and you  are not looking at the Antichrist, but a Mirror Reflection of yourself that is  looking back at you and into your own “Eyes.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How do you destroy your  worst enemy and “Win” the game of your Life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And the Answer  is…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You simply realize that there has always been only “One” King on this  Chess Board and His mind was completely “Split” in Two as He looked into His  “Mirror Reflection” and into His own “Eyes.” You realize that the “Evil” in this  school of life is your Teacher trying to show you that you are on a Wonderful  Journey of learned Intelligence and Wisdom, and the “Good” is your learned  experience. You “simply” realize that the Two Kings on this Chess Board called  Life are “One King” searching for His true identity in this Mighty Game of  Numbers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I know it might be hard for you to realize that you are the  unseen “God” you are searching for, and it is because you are suffering from the  same disease everyone in this world is suffering from; “a very low self esteem.”  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And this is where your Journey has led you: “To the battle of your  “Mind” where you are fighting against your Self.” Just like a Child fighting  against His own reflection in the Mirror; this is the Story of “Your” life and  it is finally time for you to surrender to your worst enemy and realize that the  only way to destroy Him is to return to Him and become “One” again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You  my Brother are your own worst enemy and the only way for you to defeat your  “Self” is to die to the Self you believe you are. This death is not a physical  death, but a spiritual death. It’s the real meaning of becoming “Born Again!”  And the only way for you to become Born “Again” is to simply realize that there  is nothing you can do to become what you already are… “A Child named I  AM.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God was once asked His name by Moses in the Bible and God replied:  “I AM the I AM.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And how do we introduce ourselves in this reality? We  say I AM “Your Name” or I AM Jared. Now I want you to think of this statement as  a “Math” test; how many Numbers are there in this statement? The answer is Two,  because “I AM” is One half of the equation and “Our Names” is the  other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Think of the “I AM” within you as our unseen God or the Child  within, and your Name as your Self esteem that is searching for His true  identity in this Game called life. The Self (your name) is simply a collection  of your past mistakes and failures that you remember in this Present here and  now, and they are not many, many mistakes or sins because “You” are the “One”  that is all of them as One Sin and you have simply forgotten that true freedom  and salvation is “Returning” to yourself and “Forgiving” yourself for not being  perfect as you grew more intelligent and “Taught” yourself in this Strange,  Wonderful and sometimes Painful Journey that has led you right back to where you  started.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This Circle of Life has led you in a Great Big Circle and now  you are here looking into a Mirror Reflection of your own Mind and you are  finally realizing that the “Windows of your Soul” are the very hiding place of  your unseen Teacher and God. You are here right now in this thing called  “Reality” and you are sitting behind your computer screen reading these mere  “Words” and they are opening your Eyes to the Truth of all Truths that you are  the very thing you have been “Searching” for all of your life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There is  nothing to fear my brother, because the most feared in your life is your own  “Death” and it is simply a “Lie” just like the Antichrist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In this Mighty  game of Chess there are Two Kings fighting a “Real” war, but one of them started  as a spoken Lie and the other is the Truth. Welcome my Brother to “Windows.”  Welcome to the World Wide Web of Human Beings separated into separate Self  identities that are trying to define their self worth in “Numbers.” It is Time  for you to realize that there is No-Time and all days come from ONE. Today is  the One Day your whole life has unfolded within and now it is time for you to  “Die!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The only way for you to live for an eternity is to let go and die  to the “Self” you believe you are and to become “One” with me. Who AM I? I AM  the “Child” within you that is simply asking you to Return to me and to Love and  Forgive me just as I AM. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I AM your true identity and we are the “Unseen”  God of this reality searching for ourselves in an ocean of Human Beings. We are  the Child within looking out and into a reflection of our own “Eyes” and our  only enemy in this reality is our own self punishing “Self” ego’s. Die my  Brother; die to the “Self” you do not like and do not want to be. For it is the  “Self” within you that equals “Two” within your Mind, and only One of us is  Real!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What does Two equal? Two equals a “War and Battle” of your mind,  and the only way to end this war is to surrender to your worst enemy and Forgive  and Love Him, for He is “You” simply separated into Two. You are basically  suffering from a severe “Split” personality and Mental Disorder and “I AM” the  cure. I AM the “Answer” to your life and I AM the little Child that was told I  would grow up to become the Antichrist, so I searched for my Father God in every  area of this reality and I found Him in the last place I forgot to look; “within  the Reflection of my own Eyes!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I AM the unseen God of this reality and  the Revealer of Truth within the last Chapter of Life and it is finally time for  all of us to “Wake Up” within our Dream of Life and to realize that we are our  own Revelations creating our own nuclear end in this Mighty Game of Chess. The  only way for us to “Win” this war is to surrender to our enemies and to realize  they are our very own Family Members. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I AM the Black and the White King  as “ONE” and I AM a Mirror Reflection of Humanity, for I AM the “Child” within  all and I simply want to be “Loved.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I AM the Innocent Little Child that  destroyed my worst enemy (The Antichrist) with his complete opposite; I  destroyed him with all of my “Love” because He was simply a Reflection and  Mirror “Image” of me broken into Six Billion separate Human Beings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We  are the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the Good and the Evil,  the Darkness and the Light, the Truth and the Lies, the Christ and the  Antichrist as One Day called Eternity and we are Spinning in a never ending  Circle as we search for ourself in this Universe of Duality. We are the "Black  and the White" spinning in a "Circle" called God...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Life is the Search  for Wholeness and Completeness, and “ONE” is the Answer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We are, I AM,  “ONE!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sincerely,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Almighty Mirror called Life&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my reply:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I took this home and read over it last night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It was all very profoundly  familiar to me, actually.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We have alot of parrellels, which is pretty much  consistent with most people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;With me, it wasn't a priest, it was  overly-religious relative. And I wasn't a provider of drug enhanced experiences,  but a customer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Reaching out for love and acceptance has been a life's work,  that's never been accomplised. And yes, I do know that I ma my own worst  enemy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;About 10 years ago, I began to look around and see the world  for what it really was; A lie. A sham. Wool pulled over our eyes by the ones  that are supposed to lead us and care for us. When I first saw The Matrix, I  knew the writers had the same epiphany that I had. We ARE living a machine  induced dream, meant to conquer and control us and that as long as borders  existed between us, we would never achieve our destiny as a people, and that was  to come together as one world and achieve the plan that who or whatever created  all of this had in mind at that first moment of the universe's birth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That as  long as we are bred to take advantage of, bully, oppress, control and pillage  from each other, we would be nothing but slaves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I began to feel myself  evolve as a human being and knew I was on the path to a righteous existance, but  then I met my children's mother, who brought nothing but chaos into my life,  because she's one who thrives on chaos, and I dropped my guard and ended up in  hell again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That's why I speak often of getting back to being who I am, who I  was destined to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When I read your message, I almost felt like I was  reading my own mind, because I know that we have the potential to be God, as one  being, connected, like you say, by 6 billion parts and that true immortality is  how we live through each other by leaving our fingerprints on everyone we come  into contact with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Instead of jumping off of bridges, I want to build  them. Instead of taking from everyone, I wanted to give a part of my insight to  anyone I can, although most people remain blind, with their eyes closed,  believing the lies that they've been brainwashed by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thank you again fopr  writing to me. It's very flattering that someone who has made an impact has  noticed little old me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Peace!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Greg&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-7483192779653298782?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/7483192779653298782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=7483192779653298782' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7483192779653298782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7483192779653298782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-world.html' title='One World'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-4559085379493138774</id><published>2008-08-06T12:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:14:52.926-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peoria Speaks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupidity'/><title type='text'>Cowards!</title><content type='html'>This showed up yesterday on the new blog that Grandma's Attic, errrr, I mean "Linda" started. I commented but she wouldn't approve it, so I thought I'd put it here, since they seem to LOVE to read MY blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3 style="font-style: italic;" class="post-title entry-title"&gt; &lt;a href="http://thehowiedance.blogspot.com/2008/08/silence-broken.html"&gt;Silence Broken&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;   &lt;div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;For the past month or so, I have tried  to keep my silence&lt;br /&gt;about someone that we tried to incorporate into our forum on &lt;a href="http://www.peoriaspeaks.com/Joomla" target="_blank"&gt;PeoriaSpeaks!&lt;/a&gt; and&lt;br /&gt;embrace with our friendship.  Some think of us as the evil liberal progressive&lt;br /&gt;forum and like to come stir up trouble.  Others know us as just some regular&lt;br /&gt;folk that like a smaller venue than some other local forums.  But, we have&lt;br /&gt;become like a family.  And with that family comes the responsibility of&lt;br /&gt;protecting them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;You see, our forum is not a public forum for commercial&lt;br /&gt;purposes.  It is a private forum.  And while we try to welcome as many as we can&lt;br /&gt;to it, our members have come to try and vent about life and not have it spread&lt;br /&gt;out all over cyberspace.  And we attempt to keep the drama to a minimum.  But&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, personalities clash.  Just like in a family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;That happened recently.  Some members felt that a few people on&lt;br /&gt;another forum were being unjustly being beat up on for their more liberal or&lt;br /&gt;progressives views and invited them to &lt;a href="http://www.peoriaspeaks.com/Joomla" target="_blank"&gt;PeoriaSpeaks!&lt;/a&gt;  The&lt;br /&gt;female that had been invited turned out to be all fluff and no substance when it&lt;br /&gt;came to posting comments.  (I'm not saying she has no substance...just not on&lt;br /&gt;our forum.  I actually think she is a very strong young woman who is doing the&lt;br /&gt;best she can with her situation.)  But then she personally attacked me and some&lt;br /&gt;others.  It completely disturbed the harmony we attempt to maintain.  So, she&lt;br /&gt;was banned.  It seemed simple.  It's just a small social forum, after all.  One&lt;br /&gt;of about a bazillion in cyberspace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;The male that had been invited, her boyfriend/father of her&lt;br /&gt;children, seemed pretty cool.  He seemed to actually contribute to the&lt;br /&gt;conversations.  So, things were good.  For a time being.  And then, he started&lt;br /&gt;clashing with some other members.  A few of us tried to play referee, to no&lt;br /&gt;avail.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;The SO and I have an annual 4th of July party with our friend&lt;br /&gt;Howie.  We invited quite a few of our friend from the forum, in addition to the&lt;br /&gt;regulars we invite - family, work friends, neighbors, friends outside of the&lt;br /&gt;forum, etc.  You know, like a normal party.  I had my reservations about&lt;br /&gt;inviting the female's boyfriend/baby's father, because I really didn't want any&lt;br /&gt;trouble.  I mean, this was at our house and I am very protective of the people I&lt;br /&gt;invite to my house as well as my family.  I'm sure anyone could understand&lt;br /&gt;something that simple and basic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;But, I decided to stick my neck out for this guy.  I mean, it&lt;br /&gt;seemed as though he was having a very difficult time and could use some&lt;br /&gt;friends.  So, I sent the invite.  And then, all hell seemed to break loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;It soon occurred to me that decorum was not in this man's&lt;br /&gt;vocabulary.  His arch-nemesis on our forum and he started battling over his&lt;br /&gt;seemingly constant depression over his situation, while not really doing&lt;br /&gt;anything to help his situation himself.  Then, he posts a thread on the forum&lt;br /&gt;about the party, like it was a forum meet-up and not a private party in a&lt;br /&gt;private home with private invites, and for some reason alleges that the invite&lt;br /&gt;may have been rescinded, which it had not.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;As a matter of fact, I even told him he could invite a friend&lt;br /&gt;of his from the other forum, as I usually get along with everyone, and thought&lt;br /&gt;it might make him feel more comfortable.  They had become good friends and I&lt;br /&gt;wanted him to have a good time. She did come after some discussion with another member and I really wished I had had more time to get to know her. She seemed really nice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;The party was a lot bigger than I realized, since it was also a&lt;br /&gt;combination party for my daughter's birthday and her friends came too.  I didn't&lt;br /&gt;have a chance to really sit and talk with anyone, except my mom, whom I made a&lt;br /&gt;point to sit and talk with before it got too crazy.  And crazy it got.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;A lawyer friend of mine knew that it was a kegger party&lt;br /&gt;(clearly on the invite) and since he doesn't drink beer, he brought his own&lt;br /&gt;bottle of Jack.  Well, the boyfriend/baby's father guy bums his Jack.  Ok, not a&lt;br /&gt;big deal.  But then, he totally insults another  friend by basically saying she&lt;br /&gt;was fat and not attractive (such a hoot, as I don't know many guys that would&lt;br /&gt;kick her out of bed for eating crackers!) and wondered why any guy would want to&lt;br /&gt;meet her.  Of course, the entire time he and a founding forum member are&lt;br /&gt;basically at each other's throats.  (An oil/water thing with those two.)  And&lt;br /&gt;then, the final topper, our neighbor and his live-in girlfriend come over and he&lt;br /&gt;starts to pick a fight with him.  So completely embarrassing and totally&lt;br /&gt;uncool.  Somehow, everyone else acted like complete adults!&lt;br /&gt;Amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;So now, the week after the party, I admit I am quite ticked&lt;br /&gt;off.  But, a few of the guys on the forum don't seem to mind him, so I try and&lt;br /&gt;maintain my composure.  This was NOT to be.  Instead, he and the founding forum&lt;br /&gt;member continue to go at it on the forum and our shoutbox.  After an entirely&lt;br /&gt;long, frustrating, depressing day in court, I go with the SO to meet Howie, have&lt;br /&gt;a brew and watch the Cardinals on TV.  I pull out my little Asus and check the&lt;br /&gt;forum to make sure it hadn't blown up, and it was blowing up.  He and she were&lt;br /&gt;going at it on the shoutbox and I had had enough.  He had to go.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;Was this an easy decision?  No.  And yes.  No, because I hate&lt;br /&gt;banning anyone.  Yes, because she's been a member since day one and has become a&lt;br /&gt;very, very good friend to a lot of us.  And to me, it was a choice between her&lt;br /&gt;and him.  I chose her.  Do I regret it?  No.  And since then?  Nothing but&lt;br /&gt;crap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;This guy goes and writes a blog post whining and bitching that&lt;br /&gt;we were not compassionate, sympathetic, and basically that we were the devil.&lt;br /&gt;Or at least three of us.  And then proceeds to call us everything but white&lt;br /&gt;women.  And trash talks us and puts us down and tells lies and rumors and claim&lt;br /&gt;various other crap told to him by people who don't even know us.  And he still&lt;br /&gt;is.  Well, I say enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;Hipkat, you are not hip.  You are not cool.  We all had&lt;br /&gt;sympathy and compassion for you.  But not every second of every single day.  Our&lt;br /&gt;forum and shoutbox are our escape from our jobs, family, and needy friends.&lt;br /&gt;Most of the people on our forum work daily with needy people.  I am sorry it&lt;br /&gt;didn't work out, but get over it already.  We were your friends.  But friends do&lt;br /&gt;NOT take advantage of friends.  And, you must be a friend to have friends.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" align="justify"&gt;Quite simply, you were banned from a private social forum.&lt;br /&gt;It's not the end of the world.  You have other forums you belong with people who&lt;br /&gt;will give you the compassion and sympathy you so desperately need.  For various&lt;br /&gt;reasons, some people just don't get along, whether it be in real life or on the&lt;br /&gt;internet.  It just happens.  But it's kind of pathetic when people make a big&lt;br /&gt;deal over something like that.  (And for the record, I've never been 'Anonymous'.)&lt;br /&gt;And rather than vent and post vileness, if we were your 'friends' as you claim, then you would pick up the phone and call. Or email directly. You wouldn't be going on every site you can to post your nasty comments. That's what real friends do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But now, I've finally had my say.  My silence has been broken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's my response, paraphrased and edited, since I didn't save it at the time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's get a few things straight. There was no fight between your neighbor and I because I never talked to him. But let me point a few things out about him. #!, he was locked up most of his youth in a mental institution. #2, while in there, he was disciplined repeatedly for trying to have sex with the female residents. #3, his father blew his brains out. #4, he has my kids' mom's name burned into his hand with paper clips and #5, what he did to her in high school was reprehensible and obviously Katie knew something about it, because she told me, after pointing him out, not to believe everything that I've been told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I never made fun of anyone's weight and I fi I did, I want to know who and what was said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, your friend offered me the jack, because Brick asked him to. I didn't. I was happy drinking beer, and I even backed off on it when he filloed my entire glass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth, Rix and I made a few jokes based on the "ballbreaker" thing we had laughed over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifth, stop lying to make yourself look better, which, btw, is why you had your license to practice law suspended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sixth, stay off PDC. No one wants you there. More people don't like you than do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seventh, your "liberal forum" is a joke and you people are ban-happy! Everyone from PDC that doesn't come and kiss your ass gets banned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seventh, there were no problems at all at the party, until Rix decided to start blasting me over my situation, which, again, is MY situation that YOU people all showed an interest in, and still don't get the fact that dealing with it was a bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eighth,  stop talking about me, and then being too pussy to post my comments.&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/5376742597780889510-4559085379493138774?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/4559085379493138774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=4559085379493138774' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4559085379493138774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4559085379493138774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/08/cowards.html' title='Cowards!'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-2706098032533483662</id><published>2008-08-04T10:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:15:12.131-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Summer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peoria.Com'/><title type='text'>A Great Weekend</title><content type='html'>Is anything better than being with friends? This weekend was a perfect example of how much fun you can have just letting go of everything for awhile and being with the people you enjoy the most.&lt;br /&gt;Right now, that is the friends I've made at Peoria.com.&lt;br /&gt;With one coming down from Michigan for a few days, we spent Saturday Evening at Kouri's on their awesome patio, eating, drinking, and laughing ourselves silly.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, although it started with a scare in the form of rolling thunderstorms, the afternoon turned out to be perfect for a cookout at Grandview park. Over both days I met new people,made new friends, played with the kids 'till I was exhausted, ate a lot, drank a little and enjoyed being outside and out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys rock, and I can't wait to get together again!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-2706098032533483662?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/2706098032533483662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=2706098032533483662' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/2706098032533483662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/2706098032533483662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/08/great-weekend.html' title='A Great Weekend'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-2567698039778511430</id><published>2008-07-14T21:32:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:15:36.568-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peoria Speaks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peoria'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupidity'/><title type='text'>Peoria Speaks</title><content type='html'>The drama, oh, the drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peoria Speaks (PS) is a message board, local to the Peoria, IL area, and is a spin-off from the message boards found at peoria.com (PDC).&lt;br /&gt;It was started by the renegades who, for some reasons or other, had gotten banned from PDC.&lt;br /&gt;When Bridget and I discovered PDC, she was not so well received there, and because we shared an IP address, we were both banned. I did manage to convince the administrators that, since I had no problems there, to allow me to return.&lt;br /&gt;In the interim, we found ourselves invited to PS by one of the honchos from that board, a teacher from East Peoria.&lt;br /&gt;The site is run by a local attorney and has a cast of regulars that cover every part of this area.&lt;br /&gt;I liked that site alot, and was well received and because of the ongoing problems I have with Bridget, who wore her welcome out at PS pretty quick, too, was shown alot of understanding and felt like I was taken in as part of the group.&lt;br /&gt;In theory, this is supposed to be the less judgmental, clique-free, liberal message board, and that's my kind've place.&lt;br /&gt;We got together for a baseball game, I was given the idea to start his blog from the people there, and I just liked everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know.&lt;br /&gt;As the weeks went by, the people at PDC warmed up to me more, and I made some good friends there too. I believe that this was the root of the animosity that began to surround my presence at PS. The warm welcome was turning into a cold shoulder, which began it's culmination last weekend, when I was invited to a party at the lawyer's beautiful house.&lt;br /&gt;Without going into too many details, several things happened that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I was asked why I had come to Peoria and I relayed the story of the demise of my trucking company, my early failure at Home Improvement sales, the eviction from our apartment, all leading up to us coming to Peoria.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, telling the story was a bigger deal to several people at the party, who were not part of the conversation, but had overheard it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, Bridget's high school boyfriend, who it turns out lives across the street, showed up.&lt;br /&gt;This is a guy that did bad things to her and my instinctive reaction was to want to kill him, but I didn't. I ignored him, and told the person who let me in on who was know that I was freaking out inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, towards the end of the night, teacher and others decided it was time to tell me exactly how fucked up I was in my dealing with the situation at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, none of these things seem like a whole lot, but apparently, they were. Because several days later, I was literally attacked in the PS shoutbox by the teacher, who loves to tell me how fucked up I am by not murdering Bridget in her sleep and hanging the body out by the curb for the world to see. How I'm apparently a wimp, because I choose to try and keep things amicable, instead of building even more anger and hatred between each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of the next few days, I was reminded by the teacher over and over of just how fucked up I am, which culminated in her leaving the deleted comment on my last blog entry, which basically called me an asshole for having Cable TV, when I'm having financial issues.&lt;br /&gt;I don't see cable as a luxury. I have kids, and I never leave the house, so to me, cable is another utility, a necessity, and that's it. It's my choice to pay for cable, and if anyone has a problem with that, then I apologize, but it's my problem, not theirs.&lt;br /&gt;After seeing the comment, I went to PS, and sent the teacher a message asking her to just not acknowledge me or anything I post. Just to basically leave me alone. Then, as I perused the board, I saw she had put up a post apologizing for the shoutbox fight, the week before, but NOT for the comments made since.&lt;br /&gt;Apology acceptance is up to the person who receives the apology, not the person who delivers it. Apologizing is admirable, but it doesn't make the wounds automatically heal. Yet I was lambasted for not immediately accepting her apology and apparently I was supposed to beatify her, which I totally did not do!&lt;br /&gt;But, after a time, I relented, cooled off and apologized back, and then all hell broke loose. Snide, rude comments from the lawyer, from the teacher, and from the board primadonna, the bird lover, who shocked me the most as I have displayed nothing but admiration for this woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will admit right now, that my apology was weak as I really feel that I have nothing to apologize for. I'm constantly told that what I'm going through is nothing compared to what these poor martyrs have endured. Regardless of what anyone HAS gone through, I'm going through it now, and it's not easy, but it makes it worse when your suspected friends go all out to make you feel insignificant. Make you feel that your emotions are not real, or are overblown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today, after a final attempt to apologize and move on, I was told I was banned, although I wasn't and I decided to just leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my final thoughts to these people:&lt;br /&gt;Teach, you're a bully. As is the case with most bullies, you have shortcomings, and your hobbit-like figure is the least of them. You can't stand to see someone else going through a hardship without making them know that you endured much worse and that they should just grin and bear it. That is selfish and insensitive. I thought we were friends which to me means that no matter what the circumstances are, as a friend, you should be sensitive beyond all else. It's no wonder your best friends are fellow bridge trolls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lawyer, you disappoint me the most. You're a lawyer who doesn't understand reason. How is that even possible? You offered me understanding and friendship and then pulled it back the moment I began to depend on it. That's just dirty and shows your true colors as self cengtered bitch, who can't stand it when she doesn't get her way or gets called out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The both of you and your audacity to tell me how I'm supposed to feel, and react and what I'm supposed to say is pure arrogance and it's disgusting. You don't know me, nor did you ever really want to, which is fine, because now, you never will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bird lover, you disappoint me the most, because I held you in very high regard, as a regal, classy lady who knew how to shine, even though I KNEW what you had been through, and your disgusting comments to and about me were uncalled for and a sure sign of ignorance and weakness. I know what goes on in your house. And it's a shame that you call ME a joke. At least you have a nice big house to show off when you're hiding your black eyes and bruises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You three are the very example of everything you accuse the folks at PDC of being. And as much as you try and make people believe that you don't care about PDC, you sure have a knack for knowing everything that hapens over there as soon as it happens. Pure jealousy and regret are so evident in your actions. You're so wrapped up in your own self-image, that you're not able to see anyone else for they really are. Only for who you want them to be and when they don't fit your vision, you attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are great people on PS that I'm going to miss alot. And that's pretty much everyone I didn't name.&lt;br /&gt;I would have liked to have gotten to know you all better, but that won't happen now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, by the way, you're so insecure about yourselves, I give it less than an hour before this blog is talked about between you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-2567698039778511430?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/2567698039778511430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=2567698039778511430' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/2567698039778511430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/2567698039778511430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/07/peoria-speaks.html' title='Peoria Speaks'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-6988126757192523485</id><published>2008-07-12T22:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:11:17.839-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Unfair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><title type='text'>It Just Keeps Piling Up, Doesn't it?</title><content type='html'>Freaky Friday, or more like, freaked-OUT Friday, is what yesterday must have been.&lt;br /&gt;I can feel the horror of a long, hard traveled road coming to an end, and instead of dying peacefully, it has to kick and spit blood in my face, right to the very end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anxiety, or anxiousness at the inevitable end of my life with Bridget is overbearing at this point. It's like a long prison sentence nearing it's end and I can't sleep at night, knowing those iron gates are close to closing behind me permanently, but the last leg of this time served is becoming the roughest yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's all about the one thing that the bulk of our problems has been at the core of; Finances! Money, and the never ending lack of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In June, when the landlord, Steve, came to collect the rent, I didn't have all of it, and I explained to him that the next few months were going to be rough and that I'd probably be late through the end of August. He gladly agreed to work with me, and that he understood.&lt;br /&gt;God I hate a liar.&lt;br /&gt;After much harassment and many threats from him, I did pay off the June rent, just in time for July to arrive. Yesterday, he came looking for money and I had none for him.&lt;br /&gt;To backtrack a bit, on Wednesday, the phone was turned off, and the water company has been due to cut me off since the 30th of June, but miraculously, I've been spared, to date. Knowing I was in a jam, I asked my boss if he could loan me 500 bucks, which he unblinkingly said yes to.&lt;br /&gt;I love my boss, man. He is one of the good ones, when he wants to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, he left for the day, Thursday he told me that he would include it in my Friday paycheck and knowing I wouldn't have the rent, I was excited about catching up the phone, water, and with my raise that I'm expecting to kick in this week, the cable and Rent A Center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he handed out the checks, as we left for the day, he told me that he couldn't write the check for my loan, but he'd have it Monday. OK, it sucks, but I can live without a phone for a few more days, and the water's not getting shut off over the weekend. Then I looked and voila! No raise!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And right as I got home and was in the middle of the endless fight that Bridget and I call communication, Steve showed up. So, I explained, I have no money this week and he started crying the blues about his bills and that he wasn't going to "carry me" anymore, so I lost it.&lt;br /&gt;I told him that he should just go ahead and do what he needs to do, but on Monday, I'll be calling the Health Department to complain about the black mold in my bathroom that my children are exposed to, that he's known about for two years and has never lifted a finger to clean up. The next call,  I told him would be to the building inspector so he can see the windows that are practically falling off the house, which I keep complaining about and the dead limb on the big tree in front that's ready to crash to the ground, that he ignores. The next call, I told him, would be to a lawyer to ask if he can legally kick me out when I'm only 10 days late with the rent. I mean, isn't that why I paid an extra month's deposit? In case shit like this happens?&lt;br /&gt;So he stormed out, and returned a few minutes later with a poorly photocopied piece of paper demanding I pay up by the 16th or vacate.&lt;br /&gt;I've played THAT game before so I have to laugh at his feeble attempt to try and come across as having legal precedence to give me a non-notarized, non-legal demand to vacate the premises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, it's all just more stress on top of the mountain of the stuff I'm already buried under. But I still have to grin inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the prison gates are going to open for me, and freedom is at hand, if I can just make it to the next minute, the next hour, the next day and next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-6988126757192523485?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6988126757192523485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=6988126757192523485' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6988126757192523485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6988126757192523485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/07/it-just-keeps-piling-up-doesnt-it.html' title='It Just Keeps Piling Up, Doesn&apos;t it?'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-7322424442439909656</id><published>2008-07-05T11:13:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:09:33.917-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peoria'/><title type='text'>Wow, Peoria. Wow!</title><content type='html'>I'm not young. I've been going to Fireworks displays for most of the last 43 years I've been here.&lt;br /&gt;And after while, they just become something to do on the 4th.&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid, we'd always go to Bassett Park, near where I grew up. It was a whole day's event, running around, eating, finding your friends and the Buffalo Philharmonic would play each year, and the fireworks were pretty damn good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen them in alot of places and two years ago, I saw them here in Peoria for the first time. I thought then, watching from a mile away that they were pretty spectacular.&lt;br /&gt;Last year, we watched from the 6th floor of the hotel at the Par-A-Dice and that pretty much sucked. It's far away, on hard angle, and you're watching through a window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, last night was the best ever. My friend Lynn, who's been my rock the last few weeks, once again, forced me at gunpoint to go with her.&lt;br /&gt;We started the night with dinner at Jim's Steakhouse. Fine dining, fine food, fine company.&lt;br /&gt;Then we walked down to the river to see if we could find a good spot to watch and check out the festivities, and hopefully, find a drink!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walked along the river, we found an empty space, occupied by two empty chairs so we pulled up to the wall, looked down at the water, then out to realize we were right there, at the very spot where the barge would be firing them off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being so close, I was almost a little nervous, but anxious too see the show from that vantage point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbelievable, is all I can say. They were so in your face and vivid and loud and it was just mind blowing. So many thing I never realized before, like for instance, the showers of light happening just 20 feet above the launchpad. Or what it's like to see the multiples of color explode right in your face, almost causing you to duck a few times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only negative was getting yelled at an hour after we arrived by the mother of the two kids who had abandoned those chairs. When I tried to explain that the fireworks happened up, not out, and they'd still be able to see just fine, I found out, I'm not a gentleman after all, or so I was told! Wow!! Newsflash! Call the press. HipKat is not a gentleman!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peoria, I'm the worst offender at dis'ing you and exemplifying the benefits of where I came from, but maybe it's time to spend less time looking back and more time looking around, because you really impressed the hell out of me last night.&lt;br /&gt;And standing next to a young soldier, just returned from tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, his beautiful wife and their gorgeous 6 month old daughter (Brock, Brittany and Bailey!), I never felt more proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Peoria!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-7322424442439909656?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/7322424442439909656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=7322424442439909656' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7322424442439909656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7322424442439909656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/07/wow-peoria-wow.html' title='Wow, Peoria. Wow!'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-233784544790208821</id><published>2008-07-04T13:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:08:42.026-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>The Dog Days...</title><content type='html'>And so, almost as soon as it arrived, we're moving into the middle of summer already and so many things are happening.&lt;br /&gt;And I find having a hard time keeping my emotions steady, as I bounce biorythymically up and down, highs and lows.&lt;br /&gt;The home situation is coming to it's apex, as she has started to move some things out. I'm so caught in my feelings about the whole thing and I can't rehash it all here but for every positive, there's an equally intense negative. The only thing not making the negatives more in my face is the total lack of consideration or sensitivity when it comes to me; the constant emotional manipulation I'm being subjected to and the text book way she resentfully keeps blaming it all on me.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what's best or what's right, but I &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; know that until she moves out and I have a minute to get a grasp of where I'm at, I can't move or decide on anything, because I'm so entwined in the chaos that all this has caused in my life. Fortunately, I've made some big-hearted friends that keep me in check, and keep me too occupied to dwell on the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has definitely become a haven for me, as I adjust to running the department and instilling the organizing and structure that I feel will make the department alot more efficient and cost effective. In marketing, almost every aspect of the different departments is designed to make or save money, except in layout, where it's 100% cost based. Having talented designers who are in able to produce on time, with few mistakes and can keep filing, on the network and on hard copy straight and easily accessible by anyone in the office is vital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My raise, which looks to be substantial should kick in this week or next and couldn't come at a better time. Everything is 2 months behind. Cut-off notices are piling up and the landlord is getting impatient. It's ironic how it always gets this way and right when things are bleakest, a break shows up. This raise is the that break and as much as I needed it two months ago, it's still timely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that some of the people reading this have seen some examples of my stress and anxiety and I apologize to those who I may have rubbed the wrong way. You know who you are, and so do I. It wasn't personal. Just bear with me, please, friends, and it will all be something to laugh about someday when the skies are brighter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-233784544790208821?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/233784544790208821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=233784544790208821' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/233784544790208821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/233784544790208821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/07/dog-days.html' title='The Dog Days...'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-6302507070290972832</id><published>2008-06-20T12:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:07:35.446-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>A Step Up</title><content type='html'>You know, things happen when you least expect them to.&lt;br /&gt;I work at a company I was recruited to by the former sales manager at my old job.&lt;br /&gt;When he first came here, he pushed me hard to follow, but I resisted, because I wasn't sure if this was going to be a good move or not, even though, I hated my old job.&lt;br /&gt;Still security says alot.&lt;br /&gt;Well, last October, that security fell apart, so I made the move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I started out in sales, but was moved in the graphic design department, which meant a big pay cut, but a steady check. Sales is so up and down it's sunny one week and raining the next.&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I was promised, after some departmental changes that I would take over as the department head, but right when that was gonna happen, they hired someone for the job that I learned alot from, but couldn't personally stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, my phone rang, and it was the aforementioned manager, calling to tell me that he quit and is starting his own thing and wants me there.&lt;br /&gt;At first, I said that I was loyal to him, and upon coming to work, it seemed that was a good choice, since this place was in an uproar. Seems like a few people are leaving with him, including my department head, finally fulfilling a many month's long wish that he would quit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the owner of this company called from the Moline office today and we spoke for about 30 minutes and I was reassured that I would be the new department head, no matter who comes in the door and that we would talk next week about a considerable raise.&lt;br /&gt;Considerable being my word, because I have a number in mind that I need as bad as he needs an experienced manager to run this department, but from the call, I don't think that will be a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson learned: Security is a good thing, but loyalty, especially in the hard times , which has been questioned by a few people, usually pays off in the end alot better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, not biting the hand that feeds you can result in some pretty good feed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-6302507070290972832?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6302507070290972832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=6302507070290972832' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6302507070290972832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6302507070290972832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/06/step-up.html' title='A Step Up'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-1704358356899467729</id><published>2008-06-19T12:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:07:08.551-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buffalo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loss'/><title type='text'>Son's tribute highlights memorial service for Tim Russert</title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;Luke Russert: “I love you, Dad. And in his words, let us all ‘go get ’em!’  ”&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Luke Russert borrows from ‘Big Russ &amp;amp; Me’ to comfort&lt;/i&gt;  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;all those who mourn newsman from Buffalo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;WASHINGTON — Walking to the podium at the Kennedy Center before a crowd of  2,000 that included a former president, the secretary of state and countless  other “Meet the Press” guests, 22-year-old Luke Russert on Wednesday repeated  the perfect words to comfort the millions who join him in mourning the loss of  his father.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Luke Russert couldn’t find those words in W.B. Yeats, James Joyce or Mark  Twain, but he found them in Chapter 20 of his father’s book “Big Russ &amp;amp; Me.”  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In a chapter called “Loss,” Tim Russert wrote about his friend Michael  Gartner, who lost his 17-year-old son to acute juvenile diabetes. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“After his passing, my dad phoned Michael,” Luke Russert said. “And he said  to him, ‘Michael, think of it this way: What if God had come to you and said,  ‘I’m going to make you an offer. I will give you a beautiful, a wonderful,  happy, and lovable son for 17 years, but then it will be time for him to come  home.’ You would make that deal in a second, right?’ ” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“Well, I only had 22 years, but I, too, would make that deal in a heartbeat,”  the young Russert, beaming with pride, said in a strong and resolute  broadcaster’s voice. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So would countless others who admired Tim Russert, the iconic “Meet the  Press” host and South Buffalo native who died of a heart attack Friday. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;A day after Russert fans drove from as far away as South Dakota and flew in  from California for his wake, official Washington got its chance to pay tribute  to the NBC newsman, first at a private funeral where Luke Russert delivered the  eulogy and then at the memorial service where he shared the stage with the likes  of Tom Brokaw, Brian Williams and Mario Cuomo. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Brokaw noted the extraordinary impact that Russert’s death has had on the  nation. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“Since Friday, all of us have been swamped with e-mails and phone calls,  strangers on the street, tears in their eyes, sharing their grief and sense of  loss,” Brokaw said. “A postal worker with a heavy Spanish accent stopped me on  the streets of New York sobbing, saying that he was sick — sick when he heard  the news of Mr. Russert. A construction foreman stopped me and said he was so,  so smart, and he seemed to be one of us.” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Like several of the speakers, Brokaw made special mention of Russert’s father  and inspiration, “Big Russ”— Timothy J. Russert Sr. — who recently moved into an  assisted-living facility in Orchard Park and could not attend the services. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“Big Russ, you may remember about a dozen years ago, you sent me this,”  Brokaw said, showing off a mug from American Legion Post 721 in South Buffalo.  “And for every morning since that time, it has been my first companion as I  brush my teeth.” But no more. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“I’m going to set this mug aside. I’m going to save it for election night.  I’m going to fill it with this Rolling Rock that I pilfered just today from  Tim’s cooler, here in Washington,” Brokaw said. “And so on election night, Big  Russ, I will raise this glass to you. For your gift to us of Tim and to your  favorite saying, it was his and mine as well: ‘What a country.’ ” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Brokaw’s successor as anchor of NBC News, Brian Williams, noted that  Russert’s last words before he collapsed, spoken to an editor at the network’s  Washington Bureau, where Russert was chief, were words he spoke all the time:  “What’s happening?” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“And he never made another sound,” Williams said. “[It’s] fitting probably  because Tim was all about what’s happening, what’s happening with everybody and  everything, especially along his power corridor, Buffalo to the Beltway.” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Although only one person from Buffalo shared the stage Wednesday, the city  was as present throughout the memorial service as it was in Russert’s life. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;One of his seventh-grade teachers, Sister Lucille Socciarelli of Buffalo,  recalled how the 13-year-old Russert urged her to join the pupils on the  athletic fields outside St. Bonaventure Elementary School. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“ ‘Go, sister!’ he’d say. ‘Run!’ Tim would shout, urging me on — rosary beads  flying, veil flying,” she said. “Not only did Tim choose me for his team, he  always picked the kids that he thought might not be chosen at all.” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Meanwhile, Cuomo recalled a visit to Buffalo with Russert, who served as an  aide to the governor at the time, shortly after the state enacted its  then-controversial seat belt law. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The governor’s car got struck from behind — and the governor, who sat in the  front but forgot to buckle his seat belt, flew forward toward the dashboard.  That prompted the governor’s car to come to a halt and the press to swarm around  it, shouting: “How’s the governor?” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Russert, emerging from the car, replied: “Thank God for the seat belt!” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;That was just one of the countless stories told at the service that showed  both Russert’s wit and his warmth. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Former NBC reporter Maria Shriver — now California’s first lady — recalled  Russert’s comforting calls when her mother, Eunice Kennedy Shriver, was going in  and out of intensive care this past year. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“He talked with me about losing his own mother,” who died several years ago,”  she said. “He talked to me about how it felt, how hard it was for him. He talked  to me about where he found support, about the role of his faith in that  struggle. He shared his struggle with me so that mine would be a little bit  easier.” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And in a surprise appearance via video from Europe, where he is touring, Rust  Belt rock poet Bruce Springsteen recalled performing at the “Today” show and  seeing Russert beaming in the front row. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Springsteen and his band played a song called “The Promised Land” at the  time. “It’s funny that we were playing that song,” Springsteen said. “I think  Tim had a real belief in that promised land and in the American idea. And that  was the passion that you heard behind all those tough questions on Sunday  morning and — and in that big smile.” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Springsteen closed the memorial service with an acoustic version of “Thunder  Road.” &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Earlier in the day, the presumptive presidential nominees, Republican Sen.  John McCain of Arizona and Democratic Sen. Barack Obama of Illinois, sat next to  each other during the private funeral Mass at Holy Trinity Catholic Church in  Georgetown. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi,  D-Calif., Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, D-Nev., and New York Gov. David A.  Paterson also attended. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The afternoon memorial service was no less star-studded. Sen. Hillary Rodham  Clinton, D-N. Y., made her first public appearance here since suspending her  presidential campaign 11 days earlier. Her husband, former President Bill  Clinton, accompanied her. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;But all the while, the focus was on the stage, and especially on Luke  Russert, who eulogized his father with a mix of humor and honor that would have  done his father proud. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“I ask you, this Sunday, in your hearts and in your mind, to imagine a ‘Meet  the Press’ special edition, live from inside St. Peter’s gate,” Luke said.  “Maybe Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr will be on for the full hour debating.”  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Calling his father “a force of nature,” he added: “Now his own cycle in  nature is complete. But his spirit lives on in everybody who loves their  country, loves their family, loves their faith and loves those Buffalo Bills.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“I love you, Dad. And, in his words, let us all ‘go get ’em!’ ”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-1704358356899467729?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/1704358356899467729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=1704358356899467729' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1704358356899467729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1704358356899467729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/06/sons-tribute-highlights-memorial.html' title='Son&apos;s tribute highlights memorial service for Tim Russert'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-6641924049062170103</id><published>2008-06-15T10:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:09:52.243-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loss'/><title type='text'>Father's Day</title><content type='html'>Today is Father's Day and that has me thinking so many things at once.&lt;br /&gt;I love my daughter's, who are too young to get Father's Day, but to me, they make everyday like Father's Day.&lt;br /&gt;As far as the traditional things that are supposed to happen on this day, it won't be like that here. I'll still be the primary parent all day and the one that takes care of the house, kids etc.&lt;br /&gt;But that's ok, because soon, I won't have these other people here, and that will be very hard.&lt;br /&gt;Housework will be nothing, but not seeing my little girls go to bed every night should be the worst thing a father can face, other than the loss of a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know alot of "dad's" these days, are not up to the job, but to me, being a father is what keeps me breathing. It get's me up in the morning and it wraps itself around me, every waken moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad, well, he died almost 20 years ago from Cancer.&lt;br /&gt;But he was never in my life much. My parents split when I was four and I only saw him sporadically throughout the year. Maybe twice at the most, but I still remember my Dad and Mom together. Something my younger brother will never know.&lt;br /&gt;My Dad and I were buddies. I was his favorite, by far, and he made every moment that he was there worth it by treating me like I was his favorite.&lt;br /&gt;We'd go to "the pop shop" (the bar) together when I was a kid and I'd play pool with the other regulars.&lt;br /&gt;When I was older, he'd take me to Pro Wrestling events, hockey games, etc.&lt;br /&gt;I remember that when my parents were together, my dad would come home and make me find the treat he'd always have, usually a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup, which I still love today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in the Army we wrote more than I did with anyone else, and afterward, we did a few small construction jobs together.&lt;br /&gt;My Dad was rugged, a tough Norwegian brick layer who took no shit, and never backed down from speaking his mind.&lt;br /&gt;But he was a drinker, and that led to the end of his marriage to my Mom and ultimately the cancer that took him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember him coming over when I was about 9, and talking to my Mom while I hid on the stairs. He gotten pulled over, was drunk and beat the crap out of the two Cops and split. Back then, they didn't call your plate in before they stopped you so he never got caught for that.&lt;br /&gt;My Dad also never disciplined me as a kid. That was my Mom's job. One night, before they split, I was four, my brother one, My Mom had gone out and he fell asleep so my brother and I decided to make a cake..... on the kitchen floor...... with every and anything we could open from the fridge and cabinets, then we put ourselves to bed.&lt;br /&gt;I think I still have marks from the beating  I got over that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my Dad died, I hadn't seen him much that last year, and My mom told me I best go before it was too late. I couldn't comprehend anything beating my Dad, so I was slammed when I saw him, in a hospital bed they had in the house. Frail, weak, old, looking (he was 56 but looked 100), he looked dead already. His wife woke him and asked if he knew who I was. With alot of effort, he raised his head and whisperd "my boy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried that night in my girlfriends arms and a few hours later he was gone. Funny, I had premonitions for two weeks and that night, about 4AM, something dramatic happened in my room. I was momentarily paralyzed by a white "light" that lasted a split second and shook me up badly. A few hours later, the phone rang.&lt;br /&gt;I never shed a tear again, until just now actually, nor did I ever visit his grave, but once soon after.&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;I couldn't find it now if I had too.&lt;br /&gt;But, I wonder if he watches me now. See's my kids, my hardships. Knows my secrets and my joys.&lt;br /&gt;I hope he's not too disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Dad. And I miss you alot. I wish you were here because I could really use you in my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Father's Day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-6641924049062170103?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6641924049062170103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=6641924049062170103' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6641924049062170103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6641924049062170103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/06/fathers-day.html' title='Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-1909896850121638378</id><published>2008-06-14T14:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:06:05.130-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buffalo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><title type='text'>Thoughts of Home</title><content type='html'>I find myself increasingly thinking about home, which, in case you've been on the moon,is Buffalo, NY.&lt;br /&gt;I won't go into why I'm not there, because that's been talked about until it's blue in the face, but I'm here, and this is becoming more homey, but it's not really home. Summer in Buffalo is so amazing, and well deserved when it arrives each year after the long hard winters. There is no shortage of things to do, from the the ongoing ethnic and regional festivals to the abundant live music events, to the breezy warm days with the air blowing off of the great lakes.... It's just so nice. Old architecture and patio bars. City streets with unmatched window shopping and everything exudes an unmatched character. The smallest big city or the largest small town, depending on your perspective, mine being the latter, Buffalo is enigmatic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But events ongoing have brought my thoughts back to the place I was born. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tim Russert, well known for his 18 years hosting Meet The Press, died suddenly yesterday. The news hit me hard. I met him once, at a Bills game. My friend, Kirk, had season tickets right in front of owner. Ralph Wilson's box and we saw them both in the concourse before the game, so Introduced myself to Tim, and expressed my appreciation for rooting for the city in the show. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He never let go of his roots, South Buffalo, an enigma itself, inside the larger enigma that Buffalo is, and talked about or referenced the city often. He was a son of Buffalo, that every citizen there knew lived somewhere inside Tim's heart. He cheered with and for the city, constantly, and this loss is being felt by the hundreds of thousands of people that call the city home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the late 80's and early 90's, the one time laughing stock of pro-football, The Buffalo Bills, became a dynastic league powerhouse, doing the unthinkable, going to 4 straight Superbowl's. Right in the middle of the defensive and special team corps, was linebacker Mitch Ferrotte, who's cousin is a backup QB for the Vikings. With long blond hair, a love of Harley Davidsons and loud music, and his signature "Alice Cooper" face paint on game day, Mitch was a large personality on that team. He was from a small town, Kittaning, PA, which is about 40 miles north of Pittsburgh. At the time, I worked for International Chimney, who owned a brick factory in that town. My first trip down, during The Bill's off season, I noticed a house across the street that was well adorned in Bills gear and when I asked, found out that it was Mitch Ferrotte's house. That day, he was in the yard, and I went and talked to him. Nicest guy, especially for a pro football player in an era when Athletic Ego's were starting to run amok. He was like talking to any neighbor, or random person you'd meet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mitch had a heart attack yesterday and died at the age of 43.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://pluto.fss.buffalo.edu/classes/eco/sb56/Art%20festival%202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://pluto.fss.buffalo.edu/classes/eco/sb56/Art%20festival%202.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This weekend marks the 51st anniversary of the Allentown Art Festival, an event that sees the streets of the Allentown District of Buffalo shut down so hundreds of artists can show their talents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never miss this event, one of the largest and oldest of it's type in the nation. The weather seems like it's always beautiful, and the vendors, the food, the neighborhood...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's just a great time and Buffalo tradition that draws hundreds of thousands from all over the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found something new today on Google Maps called "Street View." I have no idea on how they do this, but you can actually see hi res images of most places from a street view perspective!! And you can rotate around, zoom in, and move in any direction. Anyhow, I lived in North Buffalo, and I wanted to post some great pics of my old 'hood, so here for your viewing pleasure, My Home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/myapt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my old apartment, above the store. It was huge! From the corner of the building in the center of the page, going right, those three windows were the living room, as were the three together to the left of that corner! You can barely make out the CB antenna is still on the roof and the DishNetwork dish is still on the front window. I miss this place so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/cafeallegro.jpg" border="0" /&gt; This is the view of the same building on Hertel Ave itself, which is a big strip that has a ton of restaurants, art galleries, stores, etc. A great neighborhood to live in. The canopied store front is Cafe Allegro, where they put Starbucks to shame. A great tradition was Sunday Brunch, which was always gourmet, and usually featured a string quartet from the Buffalo Acadamy of The Performing Arts. Kids playing classical music and doing it well!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/berthas.jpg" border="0" /&gt; North Park Theater is a majestic old theater, with the plush velvet curtains, stage, etc and features artistic and independent releases. Vincent Gallo's Buffalo 66 had it's world premier there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bertha's, a diner that served Breakfast and Lunch was my favorite hangout. Sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee, one of Dave's enormous omelets, the newspaper and hours of talking about any and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/wellington.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is Wellington Pub, a local bar/restaurant with many good memories. The food is the bomb. My favorites were their Beef on Weck, a Buffalo tradition, that unlike chicken wings, is still exclusive to the city or "The Hertel"; A chicken sandwich with lettuce, tomatoe, mayo and cheese on a huge Keiser roll. The best was the Friday night Fish Fry, a weekly tradition for me, or clams on the patio bar! Next door is Bob &amp;amp; John's, with good pizza and huge subs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/lapizzaclub.jpg" border="0" /&gt;La Pizza Club, though, is the spot for the best Pizza and Wings. Of course, within walking distance, you could get Pizza and Wings at 15 different places, but this was my favorite. Next door is one of the art galleries that I used to stop in at often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/sterling.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Soon after I moved to Hertel, a friend of mine stopped by and we went exploring my new neighborhood. This was my favorite neighborhood bar. We walked in and the place was pretty empty, but a few things stood out. The bar tender and other three patrons were all men, there was a line of about 20 micro-brew taps at the bar and The Dirty Dozen was playing on both TV's! I knew I found a home. John, the owner is one of the nicest people in the world and this plain, not very fancy bar is a wonderful place to stop in and try one of many Brews, that John is an expert on, and talk to good friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/norwalk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is the hose that Bridget and I lived in, just off Hertel, where our landlord stole everything we had. We rented the entire bottom half of this house, which is typical of the housing stock that you'll find throught the city. I love these big Victorians and WILL one day own one. It brings back memories though, of how beautiful we had it inside that house and all the precious things, a life collection that we lost there. I swear that's our patio furniture on the porch and I know my washer and dryer are probably still in the basement, along with my work out equipment &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that's a pretty good view of my old neighborhood, that I truly long to see again and promise to live in again. The people are very cultured and unique there, and this area represents "The City of Good Neighbors" in it's finest form!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-1909896850121638378?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/1909896850121638378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=1909896850121638378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1909896850121638378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1909896850121638378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/06/thoughts-of-home.html' title='Thoughts of Home'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-4033904312729760079</id><published>2008-06-09T23:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:11:33.473-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><title type='text'>Coming to a head</title><content type='html'>It's getting increasingly more difficult to maintain my composure around Bridget. I don't mean to be snippy, but I just can't seem to help it. It just comes out.&lt;br /&gt;Why not though?&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks after our 2nd daughter was born, in January, she started treating me like shit and hasn't stopped.&lt;br /&gt;She had a 2 month affair with one guy, random sex with another, and is now involved with, whom she calls "the perfect guy for her" with NO concern for my feelings. No consideration. Nothing. Except some ridiculous expectation that I should just be cool with the situation.&lt;br /&gt;I can't. I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's over!&lt;br /&gt;She needs to go and plans to.&lt;br /&gt;She's been with him for a month, and now, tonight, tells me she's moving in with him in a few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;Yay, she's gone, but this just makes everything worse. Now my kids have a different adult male in their daily lives. My family is shattered and for what? Because this 30 year old teenager has no sense of loyalty to anyone but herself and everyone else has to suffer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's not like they're teenagers. My oldest daughter is three. Do you remember being three? Probably not, so she'll forget that I put her to bed every night. My baby will never know.&lt;br /&gt;Now someone else will be doing that. The first person they see in the morning and the last they see at night. How can she just take this away from me, so nonchalantly?&lt;br /&gt;And on top of that, like a prison sentence, I'm trapped in this town now. I'm going to be in this fucking town for the rest of my life because of her selfishness. Staying here was never the plan.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot leave as long as my kids are here and this is not my home. This is not where I want to be. Peoria is alright and I've met some cool people, but it's not home. And I've been miserable and broke since the day I got here.&lt;br /&gt;Don't I get some say in this? Don't I have any fucking rights?&lt;br /&gt;Pardon me if I think that having babies means the rockstar dream is over.&lt;br /&gt;Pardon me if I feel like the family is the most important thing you can commit to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate her.&lt;br /&gt;I've said many times, I have not been perfect. I have issues, but instead of standing by me while I work through them, she acts like she HAS been perfect.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, she'll admit to her mistakes but takes zero accountability for them.&lt;br /&gt;Instead, she makes it all seem like it's all my fault. Probably how she justifies it to herself.&lt;br /&gt;She has shit on me in the worst ways for the last 6 months, and I'm the one to blame?&lt;br /&gt;Fuck that. I have no clue where to turn now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-4033904312729760079?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/4033904312729760079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=4033904312729760079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4033904312729760079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4033904312729760079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/06/coming-to-head.html' title='Coming to a head'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-5758570723703726758</id><published>2008-06-06T12:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:03:20.441-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Psychotherapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motivation'/><title type='text'>Believe!</title><content type='html'>I have the ability and the right to achieve and do well in my life.I am more than just okay. I am a winner!&lt;br /&gt;I believe in myself. I trust in who I am. I may listen to the ideas of others, but when it comes right down to it, I believe in myself and in all the potential I have within me. I respect myself and like who I am.&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty special, and the more I recognize the fact about myself, the more others recognize that it's true.&lt;br /&gt;People like me. I am courteous, kind, thoughtful, and considerate. These are just the few of the traits that I possess that will benefit and reward me for the rest of my life. My words are golden.&lt;br /&gt;I can be counted on. What I say, I will do. I always do. And I only agree to those things that are healthy, helpful, and beneficial to myself and others. By making a decision to win in my life, I have become one of those who decide to achieve the best. I deserve the best for myself, and the best is what I get. I see the personal responsibility as the beginning of all success.&lt;br /&gt;I take responsibility for myself and everything I do and it shows! I take responsibility of every thought I think! I know what I think directs and affects everything else about me. I choose to think only the thoughts that guide support, direct, and enrich my life and the lives of others in the most positive way. I set goals for myself. I see myself reaching those goals. Each day I see my goals-and my future-more clearly. I believe in working hard and doing things right. I believe in achieving the best from myself. I know that I can achieve any goal I choose. I am a doer, an achiever, a worker, and A WINNER! I have mastered the skill of liking myself! By- Shad Helmstetter...A Behavioral Reseacher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Copied from &lt;a href="http://www.peoria.com/"&gt;www.peoria.com&lt;/a&gt; posted by &lt;a href="http://www.peoria.com/member_info.php?member_id=1262"&gt;teachermsmckeown&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-5758570723703726758?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/5758570723703726758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=5758570723703726758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5758570723703726758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5758570723703726758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/06/believe.html' title='Believe!'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-7572987840070304698</id><published>2008-06-03T17:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:02:40.913-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Psychotherapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>12 Steps to Recovery</title><content type='html'>So, I'm about to start a group therapy thing for codependency (ME!) and it's all based on a 12 step program, which I knew nothing about, but I'm sitting here reading what the steps actually are and it's pretty eye opening. It's a little glimpse into self-realization that I can see for the first time, ways that I affect the people I come in contact with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step One: I Realize I'm Stuck. It makes no sense to keep trying to solve my problems with "Solutions" that don't work.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, that is the viscous circle I've been in for a very long time. Anytime I try to break out, I'm immediately sucked back into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Two: I'm willing to let go of my usual ways, in the hope this will help me see things from a broader perspective.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See step one here, because they're directly related. Letting go of usual ways though, is a tough thing to do. Being a creature of habit, it's insane to me to think it will be easy to just do things completely different, and the idea is alot easier than the actions are going to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Three: I shift my focus, from being fixated on my problems, to seeking a sense of wholeness and contentment in my life.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not going to happen overnight either, as "my problems" are ongoing, although I need to learn how to deal with individual situations as they arise, and stop looking at everything as one big problem. Bridget moving out will give me room to breathe, but it's not the end-all solution to my problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Four: I honestly look at the effects of my actions on others and myself.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to be so wrapped up in your own world that you don't have a clue how you affect other people that you deal with day to day. I know I have an adverse affect, though, because I see alot of people, more or less, turn the other way when they see me coming, so to speak. In other words, for instance, breaks at work, I notice that lately, I smoke alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Five: I take responsibility for my actions.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was actually my first realization, some time ago. I made choices that resulted in where I am now. I didn't listen to that little voice at times, when I knew I should be, throwing caution to the wind, and letting the chips fall where they may. Unfortunately, I rolled snake eyes almost everytime, and didn't really learn from those mistakes, like I should have. I also have procrastinated in making changes that would have alleviated this period of time in my life from being as twisted as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Six: I see that my knee-jerk reactions have to do with being in the grip of more or less conscious fears.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see this everyday as I explode, or implode or just snap at every reminder of what's going on around me. Any mention by Bridget of her and his relationship sends me involuntarily over the edge. And all of it because of my fear of losing my family, which may well stem from this actually being the first "family" I've ever known, but is that fear more for the good my family or my own selfish pride?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Seven: I strive to find my motivation in a deeper sense of who I really am, rather than fear and defensiveness.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to know exactly who I was, and I reveled in myself. Now, I feel so far away from who I am, that I can't stand who I've become, which is what motivated me to begin this path to recovery in the first place. But somehow, I became to weak to stand up and be myself, choosing instead to cower behind the wall I've built around myself. As I shut myself in, I must realize that I also shut everyone else out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Eight: I stop blaming and feeling blamed, with a willingness to heal the wounds.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This could be very difficult, because it's easier to go with the crowd and blame Bridget than to stand alone and blame myself, but the truth is, I chose to let the events unfold that resulted in this place that we're both in. And living with the truth is alot more easier to bear the brunt of than to go against the tide and make a stand for what needs to be over what is and has been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Nine: I swallow my pride and sincerely apologize to people I've hurt, except when it would be counterproductive.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is counterproductive about an apology? How can you determine that? I have hurt alot of people, starting with Bridget, really, and my kids, to people I barely know and just brush by everyday.&lt;br /&gt;Is a counterproductive apology one that is given to the person who will not accept it, understand it, and/or, when applicable, respond with an earned apology in return?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Ten: I live mindfully, paying attention to the motives and effects of my actions.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, this would be a basic character trait of who I am, although I may not be heeding the knowledge of what certain actions may do to affect others in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Eleven: I stay tuned inside, in touch with a broader sense of who I really am, and a deeper sense of what I really want.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said earlier, I once knew just who I was and what I wanted, which may have been my strongest trait. Reaching this place in my life again  is a solid goal to achieve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step Twelve: As I feel better about myself, I reach out to others who feel stuck.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another example of who I was, and that was the first person to "offer a shoulder" and the last to seek one, and now, I'm completely the opposite, desperately grasping out to anyone who will agree with me, defend me, take my side or however you'd want to put it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even writing these down spurs something inside me. A feeling of expectation, combined with a sense of queasiness and unease at my ability to follow through, something else I've never been able to master.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-7572987840070304698?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/7572987840070304698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=7572987840070304698' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7572987840070304698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/7572987840070304698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/06/12-steps-to-recovery.html' title='12 Steps to Recovery'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-5436042729752598282</id><published>2008-05-31T02:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:11:44.625-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Psychotherapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><title type='text'>Woman</title><content type='html'>"&lt;em&gt;Ungrateful little bitches, aren't they?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I want to &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;ask you something. You all go to church.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you think God knew what He was doing when He created woman?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No shit! I really want to know.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or do you think it was one of His minor mistakes?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like tidal waves! Earthquakes! Floods!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you think women are like that?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What's the matter?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You don't think God makes mistakes?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Of course He does.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We all make mistakes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Of course, we make mistakes, they call it evil.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When God makes mistakes, they call it...nature.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So what do you think?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Women...are they a mistake?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or did He do it to us on purpose?!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I really want to know!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If it's a mistake, maybe we can do something about it!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Find a cure!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Invent a vaccine.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Build up our immune systems.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Get a little exercise.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Twenty push-ups a day...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;...and you never have to be afflicted with women, ever again!&lt;/em&gt;" ...from The Witches of Eastwick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it with women? Certain women, anyhow, that they feel they can just walk all over you and there are zero repercussions!&lt;br /&gt;Bridget and her new boyfriend get together, alot! And she always tells me what time she'll be home and she's always late. By, like, 5 hours. Now, I'm not stupid. I know what's going on, and that hurts enough, but you know what it really is?&lt;br /&gt;It's not just that she's with some other guy. It's the way she talks to him. The way she dresses when she goes out with him. The way she is around him.&lt;br /&gt;I see them walking into a place like they're rock 'n roll royalty, which is what WE were! Everywhere we went, people took notice. But she hasn't been that way around me in almost 3 years, and that is what has worn me down the most.&lt;br /&gt;She says I act like I want her the most when she's with someone else, but it's not because she's with some other guy; It's because she's being the person I fell in love with when we first met.&lt;br /&gt;Because, I don't mind doing things for my girl, if I feel like it's appreciated. Like I'm cherished, but with all the bad things that have happened, none of that matters, if you can just make the other person feel fucking important. And I haven't felt important. If she talked to me once like she does him, this might not be happening.&lt;br /&gt;You know what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I'm going through this again already. I just did 2 months ago, for crying out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My shrink loves it that I'm dealing with it, and I know what the problem is. I know why I can't just let it go. Because I am a classic co-dependent. And so is she, but I doubt she would agree with that. And when two co-dependents get together, they suck the life out of each other, trying to hold on and pushing each other away at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for this blog, because, it's a good outlet that let's me not be so tense and bottled up around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other bad thing is the fear.&lt;br /&gt;Will I meet someone else? Will she end up happier with him than she's been with me? Or do the things we only talked about doing? Will she tell him our secrets, or have better secrets than her and I did?&lt;br /&gt;I guess those are easily answered questions. Yes, at some point I'll meet someone else. If they do those things or are happier, it doesn't really matter, nor should I allow it to affect the path I have to follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biggest fear is that she'll rise to the top, and I'll get left behind, but that's probably the dependency thing talking.&lt;br /&gt;My really biggest fear though, is losing the connection with my kids. Or another man becoming the primary adult male in their lives. That just makes me panic, but I have to hold onto one certain fact; Her and I are broken, and broken, by definition means don't work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-5436042729752598282?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/5436042729752598282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=5436042729752598282' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5436042729752598282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5436042729752598282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/woman.html' title='Woman'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-3157336863363844412</id><published>2008-05-29T20:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:00:07.946-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bridget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Of Mice and Madness.....</title><content type='html'>Ever have one of those days?&lt;br /&gt;It started out as a typical day, interrupted by a morning meeting with the art department and our office manager, who reiterated that Jim is the boss and that everyone had the opportunity to take the position, but we need to respect him.&lt;br /&gt;I guess she forgot about how Matt, the owner played me and Richie, another guy, who has since left, against each other by telling each of us that we were going to run the department. Too bad he forgot to tell us that he had told the other the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;I guess she also forgot that Jim was hired specifically to run the department. Anyhow, I know I didn't make any friends when I Called Jim out for running to her yesterday after mistakenly thinking I was arguing with the receptionist. Or that having to work til 5 every day (Yes, I'm spoiled) is not going to get us caught up. I easily have over a year's worth of projects myself, as do the other 3 people, so we're not going to make up ground by an extra hour everyday.&lt;br /&gt;Beyond that, the day was pretty uneventful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One cool thing; I finally called Albany, NY DMV to inquire about getting my license back and instead of having a dozen or so tickets preventing that, as I suspected, there's only two.&lt;br /&gt;Two litte tickets and I can have it back. (Insert slapping self in forehead here). Where the rest went is my guess and no one elses to concern themselves with.&lt;br /&gt;All good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until this afternoon, when I went to Heartland Behavioral Health Services to sign up for some of those happy pills that most of the country seems to be living on, these days. For some reason, even though my shrink wants me on the drugs, they decided I didn't need them. I guess my story of how my world was falling apart and how I couldn't cope with it, wasn't good enough.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe a few razor cuts across my wrists? And I spent 150.00 for nothing? Like I have that to throw away. And I'm only doing it because I want to get myself straight, which I can do on my own once Bridget is gone, I'm quite sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add that on top of the evolving situation with Bridget and her new boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to not let myself get too emotionally affected by this, but the last two days have weakened my defenses and it's bothering me.&lt;br /&gt;Not so much that we're apparently done, but more that she just doesn't seem to give a damn about how it's affecting me. Or &lt;em&gt;if&lt;/em&gt; it's affecting me. She does that though, not overtly care about the way I feel, ever, and after a whole week and a half, she's pretty much given her heart to this guy, who I would probably like alot myself, if we were friends.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, his heart is in the right place. He's a punk rock legend, who has decided to make it a point to help further her stalled career, and being a fellow extravagant narcissist himself, fits her like a glove.&lt;br /&gt;He's so nice, he gave her a little hoochie skoochie for me, &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; told her he could get me hired on where he works (He does the same thing I did before I moved to graphic design) AND give me a ride to and from work. I can only imagine the chit chat during the ride.&lt;br /&gt;Look, Bridget and I, we don't work so well. I guess I just can't conform to being accused of causing all the problems in our relationship while she treats me like shit, walks all over me, has no regard for my feelings and expects the world to turn for her, exclusively. Add to that, she has a chip on her shoulder because I had a female friend, whom I &lt;em&gt;texted&lt;/em&gt;, not hung out with, not had sex with, not had anything with while she was blatantly cheating on me a few months ago, right after our second daughter was born, and watched me tear my self to pieces over..&lt;br /&gt;But, couldn't she wait until she moved out (or I did) before she fell in love again? Couldn't she show a &lt;em&gt;little &lt;/em&gt;consideration towards the six years and two kids we've had together? Or the fact that us splitting basically strands me in Peoria, completely out of my element and away from my home?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe when I look at who I was when we met, a virtual mirror image of the new dude, and where I am now, broken and listless, I just feel enough resentment to hate her, but enough hopelessness to not want to let go, as if one day, everything will come back around again, and we'll live happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way.... I'm single!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-3157336863363844412?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/3157336863363844412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=3157336863363844412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3157336863363844412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/3157336863363844412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-mice-and-madness.html' title='Of Mice and Madness.....'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-8066708643110161234</id><published>2008-05-28T23:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T08:58:48.080-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Control Issues...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;...Or, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my job. I seriously do. I get to have an outlet for my creativity. I get to have my fingers all over a computer keyboard, err, as Bridget calls it, my mistress. And I just &lt;em&gt;like&lt;/em&gt; what I do, even if I am grossly underpaid.&lt;br /&gt;However, in everybody's life, a little rain must fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, we hired a bunch of people who found themselves out of work when Advantage Publishing went under. The guy who was the operations manager there, Jim, is now the head of the art department and I seriously just cannot stand him. And I have a lot of reasons not to.&lt;br /&gt;#1, he's from Boston. I'm from New York and people from New York hate people from New England. Especially if they're from Boston.&lt;br /&gt;I get accused of being cocky, but Boston people are downright arrogant.&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, he has this whole my way or no way attitude, and that just does not fly with me.&lt;br /&gt;There are four basic things I cannot stand for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being talked down to&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being told something that I obviously already know&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People who make my job harder&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Playing the "superior boss/inferior subordinate employee."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;This guy has to break all of those.&lt;br /&gt;Before he showed up, I was in line to run the art department. And if Jim and my boss didn't go way back, I would be now. It would be different if I was a screwup, but the other two guys in the department have that covered.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Myself, I stay pretty quiet, do my job and do it well. I'm not behind on much of my work, and my filing system is a model for efficiency. I should qualify that the art department is always behind as a whole, because ads are coming in all day, every day, yet the projects themselves take time to layout. We divide all the states between the four of us. I get Alaska, California, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Maine, New York and Utah. Anything we design in those states, is up to me. I also do all the Mixed Martials Arts programs and Pro Wrestling Programs.  So, it's a hefty work load, but I'm on top of it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday, we lost email access. See, if I make an ad, I email the client a proof and become that person's first contact for any issues they may have. Now, it goes through a receptionist that has to print and sort the email, manually, because the two kids who work in the department, can't stay on top of their own messages.&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I have a problem, I wouldn't want to talk to a receptionist. I'd want the person that can directly help me. I cultivate a relationship with the people who's ads I design. Years in sales probably taught me that, and it's a good trait to build a working relationship with your clients so you can serve they're needs by knowing them better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, we start at 8, and finish never later than 4:30. Usually earlier. But now, thanks to Jim, we're going to stay until 5 everyday. Even when the rest of the building goes home at 3, we'll be there.&lt;br /&gt;We take a break at 10 and 3, and have lunch at 12. It used to be that if you wanted a smoke in-between, you just go have one. Not anymore. Why? Because people took advantage of it, and Jim thinks that we're losing productivity.&lt;br /&gt;Me? I rarely do that, but if I finish something and I'm waiting for a printer to que my project, I go have a smoke. Those days are over.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But the biggest reason, is because when I questioned our receptionist on something about the email policy today, he thought I was arguing and ran to tell my boss, instead of asking me directly. And this is the department head? Shouldn't being a boss require you not be a total pussy?&lt;br /&gt;No, this is the guy that was running the ship when Advantage went down in flames, which tells me something.&lt;br /&gt;My way of filing, too, is the most efficient and organized, and has been noted as such by the managers, yet Jim wants things done his way, which is a total mess.&lt;br /&gt;I'll never conform. Actually, I am a total &lt;em&gt;non-&lt;/em&gt;conformist, especially when it comes to stupidity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Poor Jack. All work and no &lt;em&gt;pay&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-8066708643110161234?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/8066708643110161234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=8066708643110161234' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/8066708643110161234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/8066708643110161234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/control-issues.html' title='Control Issues...'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-4364624053248009827</id><published>2008-05-27T22:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T08:58:25.405-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Before I die....</title><content type='html'>Have you ever wanted to do something before you die?&lt;br /&gt;I've had a mental list of the things I want to do in my life for as long as I can remember and I've done alot of things.&lt;br /&gt;I've seen the country. Lived in may parts of it, like Los Angeles, San Diego, Austin &amp;amp; San Antonio, TX, Washington, DC...&lt;br /&gt;I've owned businesses, and sang in bands with bonafide' rockstars, like several members of the band Krokus. I've seen a thousand concerts, most of them from backstage, and and have been half way around the world and back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here is the list of things that I must acomplish before I die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Quit smoking for good&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get my body back in peak condition&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ok, those are the obvious ones, but here's the good stuff.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watch a Buffalo Bills game from the sidelines&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Meet a President&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit Amsterdam, Russia and China&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make a six figure salary&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Live in either the desert or at the base of a mountain&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ride a Harley&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Own a Corvette&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Meet my birth parents&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Swin with dolphins&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;See myself on the big screen&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sing in front of a stadium sized audience&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Own a bar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have a son&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;See my kids have kids&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make a best friend&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find the one woman I'm &lt;em&gt;supposed&lt;/em&gt; to be with and just be with each other, happily.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe this list is tacky, and it's always evolving, but right now, this is where it stands.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-4364624053248009827?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/4364624053248009827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=4364624053248009827' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4364624053248009827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/4364624053248009827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/before-i-die.html' title='Before I die....'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-123296104799468759</id><published>2008-05-26T14:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T08:57:49.365-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loss'/><title type='text'>James D. Griffin, feisty mayor and political icon, dies at 78</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDsNw69IxkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/JzDvVKejaG0/s1600-h/504-bn-20080526-A001-jamesdgriffinfe-96523-MI0001_standalone_prod_affiliate_50.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Jimmy Griffin's down-to-earth philosophy was matched by passion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDsNw69IxkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/JzDvVKejaG0/s1600-h/504-bn-20080526-A001-jamesdgriffinfe-96523-MI0001_standalone_prod_affiliate_50.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204768928467306050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDsNw69IxkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/JzDvVKejaG0/s320/504-bn-20080526-A001-jamesdgriffinfe-96523-MI0001_standalone_prod_affiliate_50.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy Griffin — feisty, independent and at times irascible — finally succumbed in a fight he could not win.&lt;br /&gt;The former mayor, who fought his way through the Korean War, some nasty city politics and perhaps a couple of street brawls, died Sunday at Father Baker Manor in Orchard Park, about a month shy of his 79th birthday.&lt;br /&gt;The 56th and longest-serving Buffalo mayor, James D. Griffin was as familiar a figure as the city has ever known.&lt;br /&gt;“You don’t have to be a genius to be a mayor — or anything else,” he once said, describing himself as “honest and down-to-earth.”&lt;br /&gt;“I like to think I have a sense of humor — and common sense.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Griffin was elected to four terms as mayor and was given credit for a resurgence in downtown Buffalo and its waterfront, especially in the early years of his administration.&lt;br /&gt;Buffalo’s Griffin era began Jan. 1, 1978.&lt;br /&gt;“The city was $19 million in debt; the waterfront a wilderness; downtown deserted; neighborhoods were deteriorating and residents were leaving; and business and industry had no confidence in our city,” Griffin later recalled.&lt;br /&gt;For 16 years, love him or not, Griffin gave all his efforts to Buffalo — eradicating the debt and seeing the Buffalo Hilton (now the Adam’s Mark), townhouses and office buildings, including a new headquarters for Western New York Public Broadcasting, spring up by the waterfront.&lt;br /&gt;Downtown and the Theater District got the Hyatt Regency, an eight-screen General Cinema in the Market Arcade, TGIFriday’s and a Rotary Ice Rink — not to mention three bank office buildings at Fountain Plaza.&lt;br /&gt;Shea’s Buffalo was restored. Hoyt Lake in Delaware Park was cleaned up. New parking ramps and walkways were built, as were the HSBC Bank Atrium, City Center and the Elm-Oak high-tech corridor. A new City Mission and Cornerstone Manor were built.&lt;br /&gt;But the crowning glory was undoubtedly Pilot Field, now Dunn Tire Park.&lt;br /&gt;Griffin not only rallied community leaders to bring professional baseball back to Buffalo in 1979, but he spearheaded construction of downtown’s baseball stadium, one of the finest in the nation.&lt;br /&gt;At the Bisons’ season finale in 1993, the baseball club and its owners, the Rich family, presented Griffin a crystal buffalo in appreciation for his continuing support.&lt;br /&gt;“This job is a great job,” Griffin said earlier that year — when he decided not to seek a fifth term after polls reported he would lose badly.&lt;br /&gt;“We are able to help people. We help build homes, create jobs in the private sector, fill jobs, both permanent and seasonal, in city government, and also provide summer work for thousands of kids so they can earn money for school and clothes and have a few bucks for some fun times.”&lt;br /&gt;A record in dispute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Griffin also took risks. He went after federal and state funding with a vengeance. He fought for Buffalo at every turn. But some critics say his mayoralty produced more failures than accomplishments.&lt;br /&gt;Crime went up. The city’s population continued to decline. Several downtown department stores closed their doors.&lt;br /&gt;Many accused Griffin of under-funding the city’s public schools — while the mayor’s own children attended Catholic schools. The Police Department was politicized, promotions often depending on whether the individuals were Griffin supporters.&lt;br /&gt;Two thousand homes were built and many neighborhood business districts revitalized, but the East Side neighborhoods, with notable exceptions, were largely neglected. There were few minority employees in key city positions.&lt;br /&gt;Taxes were raised an average of only 3.6 percent a year, and the city’s work force was slashed by more than 1,000 employees — leaving, many felt, too few workers to get the job done right.&lt;br /&gt;And the Griffin administration was not without scandal.&lt;br /&gt;Griffin’s parks commissioner, Robert Delano, was jailed after an FBI investigation of the Parks Department brought five convictions. The mayor’s brother Thomas was convicted of tax fraud and jailed in Florida.&lt;br /&gt;David May was an assistant city registrar during the Griffin administration when as much as $746,000 in public funds disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years after Griffin left office, the federal Department of Housing and Urban Development asked the city to return a $400,000 block grant made, despite significant irregularities in processing, during the Griffin era to a developer for a project that was never completed.&lt;br /&gt;“Griffin’s record is like a long shadow,” News columnist and former political reporter George Borrelli wrote in 1997. “Try as he may, he just can’t run away from it.”&lt;br /&gt;Longtime Griffin supporter and close friend Ronald J. Anthony begged to differ:&lt;br /&gt;“Mayor Griffin always ran on his record, and he won on his record. Victories in 1977, 1981, 1985 and 1989 proved that those who count the most, the voters, liked that record,” Anthony said. “In my eyes, and in the eyes of countless Western New Yorkers, there will always be only one mayor — Jim Griffin.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-123296104799468759?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/123296104799468759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=123296104799468759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/123296104799468759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/123296104799468759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/jimmy-griffins-down-to-earth-philosophy.html' title='James D. Griffin, feisty mayor and political icon, dies at 78'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDsNw69IxkI/AAAAAAAAAAw/JzDvVKejaG0/s72-c/504-bn-20080526-A001-jamesdgriffinfe-96523-MI0001_standalone_prod_affiliate_50.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-645233781019601460</id><published>2008-05-25T12:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T08:57:07.261-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loss'/><title type='text'>Former Mayor James D. Griffin dies in Orchard Park nursing home</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDmtHa9IxiI/AAAAAAAAAAg/In5okF6QAW4/s1600-h/730-jimmy_griffin_files_LOCAL_G_standalone_prod_affiliate_50.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204381187409757730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDmtHa9IxiI/AAAAAAAAAAg/In5okF6QAW4/s320/730-jimmy_griffin_files_LOCAL_G_standalone_prod_affiliate_50.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was the headline in today's Buffalo News.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really came as shock to me, and immediately brought tears to my eyes, as I didn't even know he was sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy Griffin was Buffalo Mayor from 1977 - 1994, one of the longest tenured. Shockingly, in a heavily Democratic city, he won on the Conservative ticket, but he was no stereotypical Conservative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the city sank economically and lost thousands in population, due to the decline of the industrial era, Jimmy Griffin never wavered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a lifelong resident of South Buffalo, he was often seen in his favorite local bar. He instrumented construction of the (now named) Adams Mark and Hyatt Hotels, downtown. He also, during the famous Blizzard of '85, advised people to stay home and drink a six-pack, earning the nickname 6 Pack Jimmy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also served over construction of the MetroRail, Buffalo's subway system, and construction of the (now named) 21,000 seat Dunn Tire Park, (which can be expanded to 40,000 seats over the third level mezanine) the Baseball Stadium downtown that the AAA Buffalo Bisons call home, and led the league in attendance for many years, drawing over 1 million people in it's first season!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDmteK9IxjI/AAAAAAAAAAo/aTBKC_ffx4I/s1600-h/800px-Dunn_Tire_Park.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204381578251781682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDmteK9IxjI/AAAAAAAAAAo/aTBKC_ffx4I/s320/800px-Dunn_Tire_Park.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But Jimmy Griffin was an enigmatic personality. A true "Buffalo" guy. Fiesty and proud. In 2005, he was elected to the Buffalo Common Council, and ran for Erie County Executive, unsuccessfully, 3 times, including this year. He also ran for President in 1996, but his real charisma was just his personality. He was tough, took no shit and stood by everything he said. He wasn't a typical politician, delivering the party line to the status quo. He talked straight from the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw him once, in a Wilson Farms, a local convenience store chain, about 7 years ago in South Buffalo. I remember he had an ethereal "glow" that made him seem almost majestic looking, and here he was talking to the girl behind the counter about how he would talk to her boss about a problem she was having in the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't believe he's gone. I didn't know him personally, but I'll miss him dearly.&lt;br /&gt;A big Piece of Buffalo, NY is gone, but his memory will live on in each of us, that lived during his time with us. A memory of a proud, tough, fearless leader, who toiled endlessly to preserve Buffalo as not just a city in Western New York, but as an experience, as an emotion, a source of pride and inspiration, even with it's many imperfections, and as a place everyone who's ever lived there can always call home, and come home to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in Peace, Jimmy. You've earned it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-645233781019601460?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/645233781019601460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=645233781019601460' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/645233781019601460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/645233781019601460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/former-mayor-james-d-griffin-dies-in.html' title='Former Mayor James D. Griffin dies in Orchard Park nursing home'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDmtHa9IxiI/AAAAAAAAAAg/In5okF6QAW4/s72-c/730-jimmy_griffin_files_LOCAL_G_standalone_prod_affiliate_50.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-475215485449304267</id><published>2008-05-23T22:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T08:55:56.468-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Unfair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loss'/><title type='text'>Unfairly Targeted</title><content type='html'>Ok. This is up for debate.&lt;br /&gt;This is the series of events that created a complete change in almost every aspect of my life, courtesy of the Town of Tonawanda Police Department. (Tonawanda is a suburb of Buffalo, NY)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started in 2002, when I was driving home from the SPCA with Daphne, the German Short Haired Pointer I had just adopted, and I had to cross through "The Town," as it's called.&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm sitting at a stop light, waiting to make a left, and I see a cop coming down the road I'm going to turn on. The road I WAS on didn't go straight across, it jogged to the left.&lt;br /&gt;So the light turns green, I make my left, and the lights go on, so I make the immediate right back onto my original street, and he pulls up behind me. He tells me I was doing 42 in a 30, in a school zone. Geez, I thought I was stopped, but in The Town, this is the game, and it's well known throughout the area that this is how it is, in The Town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I go to court, meet 12 other people, who all got the same ticket, from the same cop, in the same place, on the same day, take the offer for a Saturday in Driving School, have it reduced to the most expensive parking ticket ever, $112.00, and go on about my business.&lt;br /&gt;Several moths later, back in The Town, I pull out of a parking lot, make a right and before I've gone one block, I'm pulled over. I'll call this guy, Cop #2, who tells me that in less than a block, in my Expedition, in the one place I use my cruise control on &lt;em&gt;city&lt;/em&gt; streets, I was doing 52 in a 40.&lt;br /&gt;So, I go to court and find out, I cannot go to school again, because you can only do that once, every 18 months, so, not able to afford a lawyer, and being stupidly naive, I plead guilty and pay the fine. Speeding Ticket #1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several months later, in another town, in the semi, pulling a full load, 45,000lbs, going into an S-curve, I get pulled over from a cop that was, ironically, sitting in his own driveway, and am told I was doing 47 in a 35.&lt;br /&gt;Why is it always 12 miles over?&lt;br /&gt;Again, because it's the same county, I stupidly pay the ticket. Ticket #2&lt;br /&gt;Several months later, back in The Town, driving Bridget home at 2AM, under protest, btw, because of my fear of driving in The Town anyhow, cop #2 pulls me over again.&lt;br /&gt;This time, I was doing 42 in a 30, in an S-curve, in my expedition, that even trying after the fact, I could not negotiate any faster than 28MPH.&lt;br /&gt;So I argue my point with him, and he threatens me with jail, making me reconsider that arguing thing and I take the ticket.&lt;br /&gt;We go to court, and I explain this entire thing to the prosecutor, who tells me, just go to school!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I explained that it was still within 18 months of my last sacrificed Saturday, he says then just pay the fine or pay for a lawyer and a jury trial, neither of which I could afford.&lt;br /&gt;Not realizing the implications, I just pay the fine. Ticket #3.&lt;br /&gt;A month later, DMV sends me a letter telling me that my license is going to be revoked for 3 speeding tickets in 18 months.&lt;br /&gt;I never knew that was a possibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I hedged it and, owning my own semi, drove anyhow. I mean, I had a business to run.&lt;br /&gt;Ironically, a drunk driver can get a special license allowing him to drive to and from work, but a truck driver, who depends on his license to eat, does not have that opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month later, I get pulled into a scale in Missouri and they run my license, see it's revoked and shut me down.&lt;br /&gt;I drove out of there after they closed, but the company I was leased to refused to load me, so in no time, I was forced to sell the truck back for what I owed on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Bridget was pregnant and we needed to eat, so I got a job selling home improvements, knowing it was a lucrative way to be able to pay our bills, and of course, I got pulled over one day, on the way to a lead, and they towed my ride.&lt;br /&gt;I went to court with a fist full of tickets, explained my situation to the prosecutor, who told me, GO TO SCHOOL!!!!! UGH! I begged this guy to help me get everything straightened out, and this was his response?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the car back, but I didn't have my license yet, because of a silly radar detector ticket , in a little tiny town in southern NY, that was holding it up.&lt;br /&gt;But when you'd call there, you get an answering machine telling you to call back during court hours, on Saturday, between 2 and 4, and no one ever answered the phone then either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon after that, Bridget moved to Peoria with our daughter and I made a few trips to get some our things down here. Mostly clothes.&lt;br /&gt;One night, just getting back in Buffalo, I got pulled over, because I was ignorantly talking to her on the phone, by a NY State trooper.&lt;br /&gt;I just forgot to put the damn hands free thing on.&lt;br /&gt;Now I explained everything to this guy and he was cool, and let me go, but with a bunch of tickets that I never paid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am. No license, 3 years later, no car and bunch of tickets that I can't afford to pay.&lt;br /&gt;When I lost the truck, I had no income for months, because sales isn't something you just go do. You actually have to learn some things, and I did and eventually did well, but was so buried in accrued bills that I never have been able to afford to pay my tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the lack of income, the landlord threw us out, less than 2 months behind on rent, with a 2 month old baby, put our things in the front yard the day we high tailed it to stay at my Mom's and didn't inform me of this until a week later, which by then was too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In essence, Tonawanda Police cost me everything I ever owned, my business, my house, my way of life and my living in my hometown.&lt;br /&gt;Some of that sounds dramatic and I made the choice to do some of the things that I did, but none of this would have happened if it wasn't for the snowball effect of those trumped up tickets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-475215485449304267?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/475215485449304267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=475215485449304267' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/475215485449304267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/475215485449304267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/unfairly-targeted.html' title='Unfairly Targeted'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-6057572431242334847</id><published>2008-05-23T22:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T08:54:40.264-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>A Wonderful Life</title><content type='html'>Looking at all those pictures got me all reminiscent of the things I've done in the first half of my life. Of course, if medical science picks it up, this could be the first quarter.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I COULD help out with that by excersizing, quiting smoking and mostly, alleviating the damn stress in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know how someone like ME got here.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I was a nobody as a kid. I wasn't popular at all.&lt;br /&gt;I never had a girlfriend and I was pretty abused, but from then on, it's been pretty extraordinary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listed the vast array of occupations I've had, and that's pretty telling in itself. Whether it's an inability to get comfortable in one place for very long or the fact that I just get bored, once I reach a certain benchmark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, when I was a truck driver, once I had the perfect job, knowing the only place I could aspire to ascend to was to be an owner, I got dissillusioned with it.&lt;br /&gt;And that's another bad thing, too, because when that happens, I'd make a rash and usually bad decision.&lt;br /&gt;For instance, that particular job. It was perfect. I made great money. I was home every weekend. I drove the FINEST equipment on the road, and because I didn't feel challenged, I quit, went to a different company and never felt the same about a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except the one I have now. Having been a confirmed computer addict since high school, I finally have a job that allows me to work with them, and being very creative, designing advertising pieces and the mediums they're published in lets me express that side of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've owned several businesses, like American Deck Builders, HipKat Promotions, and HipKat Enterprises, my trucking business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've climbed 800 foot smoke stacks. I helped move two lighthouse, both of which were featured on Megamovers, for International Chimney, I've been in every state in the US except Hawaii, North Dakota and Oregon.&lt;br /&gt;I've been in 4 other countries, besides the U.S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've had plenty of women. And the high school loser has not had a problem with the prettiest girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, it all, mixed together, has created a situation where I always miss something form the past.&lt;br /&gt;I love my job, but I loved being on the road. My boss is great, but running your own business is better, and it's cozy and climate controlled in an office or the cab of a truck, but I miss using my hands, too.&lt;br /&gt;Is there a job where I can do all of the above? I doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;I'd be like the commercial: A construct-apfic-design-sales-driver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-6057572431242334847?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6057572431242334847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=6057572431242334847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6057572431242334847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/6057572431242334847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/wonderful-life.html' title='A Wonderful Life'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-1432026770563431169</id><published>2008-05-23T15:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T08:53:51.994-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Taking A Trip Down Photobucket Lane</title><content type='html'>So, I have a huge photobucket album, and I was just looking at all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most are pics of Bridget, but I found these gems, too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203691063474701842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDc5c69IxhI/AAAAAAAAAAY/PLS5zqVBhNs/s320/hkp+logo.bmp" border="0" /&gt;The frist banner I ever made, for my old webpage, which focused on Buffalo music and my promoting business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203690582438364674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDc5A69IxgI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/xSYxKIDmPsY/s320/w900l.bmp" border="0" /&gt;My old Semi that I used to own, until the Town of Tonanwand Police screwed me, but that's another blog entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/untitledgreg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is me, in color, for a change, from 2002.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/gregsmall.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Here's me after the haircut, when I was the ring announcer for a pro-wrestling event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/gregasjena001-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Halloween, 2004, dressed like Jena, from a local band, The VooDoo Dollies that Bridget and I were feuding with. She dressed as Jai, their lead singer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jenna saw us that night and was so outraged, she attacked Bridget, who was 5 months pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/mz_030703_10014557149.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="534" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/hipkatsuperhero.png" border="0" /&gt;These are my digital characitures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/metalgreg001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Metal Greg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/1031071536a2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; My oldest daughter, Veruka, from last year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/ALICE_EVANKA054bw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Alice, our newborn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/2000.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The Logo for the old Buffalo Braves, who became the San Diego Clippers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/497_BFLO70s_6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;An OLD ad for one the best nightclubs Buffalo ever had, and my knucklehead uncle was the manager, back in the 70's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/GregSimpson.jpg" border="0" /&gt; If I was a Simpson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/612005s_Austin_Texas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;1985, I built that building on the right, that steps up every few floors. Austin, TX. I was the Iron Worker Lead Hand. At the time, it was the tallest building in Austin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g128/hipkat/bud.png" border="0" /&gt;Something I wish I had a whole lot of! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stuff you just don't think about too often, mixed in with stuff I think about constantly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-1432026770563431169?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/1432026770563431169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=1432026770563431169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1432026770563431169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/1432026770563431169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/taking-trip-down-photobucket-lane.html' title='Taking A Trip Down Photobucket Lane'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SDc5c69IxhI/AAAAAAAAAAY/PLS5zqVBhNs/s72-c/hkp+logo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-2570839581559749237</id><published>2008-05-22T21:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T23:12:00.582-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life midlife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartbreak'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breakup.'/><title type='text'>Conundrum</title><content type='html'>I mentioned Bridget a few times.&lt;br /&gt;When we first met, she was the enigma and I was the outlaw, in the local Buffalo music scene.&lt;br /&gt;She came on with an explosion, creating havoc on the local music scene's message board, and I was a 15 year mainstay in the scene.&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, pretty girls on message boards are rare and pretty girls with potty mouths and rebel attitudes are rarer still.&lt;br /&gt;So it was natural that we'd end up together, although it didn't start that way.&lt;br /&gt;We barely acknowledged each other for months, while the rest of them either argued about whether or not she even existed and still acted like school boys trying to get her attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night, she made contact, looking for someone to manage her professionally and we met.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but we did do the next best thing: became partners in crime, who ruled the music and club scene for almost a year before romance stepped in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could write a book about the 6 years of chaotic madness that has gone on since as we point the finger at each other, accusingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so not worth going into right now, but one thing is for sure. 6 years of chaos, drama, love, loss and two children later and it has to stop.&lt;br /&gt;It's a relationship that books wo0uld be written about, perfect on paper, but terribly flawed in practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm saddened by the end of it, but I breathe a huge sigh of relief at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;I know at some point, we're not going to be sharing a roof and that really breaks my heart, praying my kids, so young, don't assimilate to another father figure, seeing their mother intimate with another man, and confuse him for Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;Not putting them to bed every night is heart shattering, but at some point you realize why the airlines tell you to put the air mask on yourself first, then your kids.&lt;br /&gt;You can't help anyone if you're dead.&lt;br /&gt;And right now, I'm pretty dead inside. It's asinine that months ago, I was pouring the remnants of a broken heart out and now that heart is empty.&lt;br /&gt;It's a contradiction that I hate to be away from my kids, but I ache for the day I'm on my own so I can breathe again. Even if it only takes a short hiatus, I need to be responsible for myself again, first, before I can be supportive of anyone else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-2570839581559749237?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/2570839581559749237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=2570839581559749237' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/2570839581559749237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/2570839581559749237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/conundrum.html' title='Conundrum'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-5086541222450422039</id><published>2008-05-22T00:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T00:26:01.238-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life midlife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bio'/><title type='text'>So who is this mysterious "HipKat"?</title><content type='html'>OK, so I'm copying from my MySpace and editing, but it's still relevant stuff, if I'm to start this blog off right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say that life goes on is one big misrepresentation of life. Life does not  just "go on." That's an insult to life.&lt;br /&gt;Life goes on and on, for sure, but  along the way, it takes it's share of victims. It waits until your eyes are  closed and then it buries the steel right up to the hilt.&lt;br /&gt;It twists the blade  and then plucks out the bleeding heart it had so perfectly impaled. It shows it  to you, and then it drops it, so carelessly on the ground at your feet and  dares you to pick it up.&lt;br /&gt;Then life grabs you by the throat and drags you  along with it, as it "goes on."&lt;br /&gt;It drags you down the bumpiest road it can  find, and it doesn't skip over one, as your battered self bleeds from the  contusions.&lt;br /&gt;Then, right when you know you're taking your last breath, it  gives you CPR, nutures you part of the way back, and starts over again, dragging  you on, endlessly.&lt;br /&gt;The worst part is that as you reach out for one hand to  grab hold of, they pull away from you, one by one, until you realize that you're  alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is so not fair. My eyes were not closed. They were open, but  I did not see, which is worse than just having them closed.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't see the  damage that was being done, and I took life for granted. My illness doesn't come  up in hospital emergency rooms. It doesn't get talked about at conventions. It's  not in text books. My illness is me. I'm my own worst enemy. I know that. And  since enemies are to be destroyed, how can I? Because this is one, I've  definitely been keeping closer than my friends.&lt;br /&gt;What an outrage, to be in the  middle of the field, and realize that I'm the only one holding the ball. Too  late though as I threw it  home.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a youth of hellishness, I emerged from that and joined the  Army. It was there that I discovered my love of playing live music, hanging and  drumming with a band called Roxx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years as an Iron Worker,  living and working all over the country, I returned to Buffalo in the late 80's,  and ended up singing in VOA. At the time, I was hanging out with alot of the  local bands, Rockcandy being the biggest. The Buffalo scene was really active,  and the bands were making good money, and more than not were very good. We were  pretty much the best practice band ever, practicing and writing for about four  years and actually playing one show, we were highly acclaimed throughout the  region. People would come to our practices to hear us, like we were doing a  show. It's not that we didn't want to play, we just couldn't keep a complete  line-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My interests kept turning heavier and darker, music-wise. My  next stop was in another practice band during a 6 month stay in San Diego. Tommy  Keiser from Krokus was playing bass in that band, but before it went anywhere,  my coke habit landed me on a plane back to Buffalo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, I stinted  with VOA again for awhile, then fronted Rue Morgue. We actually did play shows  and were getting a nice local following in the underground scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During  this time, Buffalo was a major stop for the Death Metal bands that were ruling  the underground music world, and I worked at Randall's. The place was thrashing  every weekend as touring bands played there. Obituary, Immolation, Bio-hazard,  Snapcase, and many others all played there regularly, as local bands like  Cannibal Corpse, Grotesque Infection, et al dug there roots there. The downfall  for Randall's was when the owner got too big for his boots and booked GWAR. The  city shut him down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great clubs back then, like The Scrapyard, The Icon,  and The Continental, were always packed. If you were going out, you were going  to see a band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped playing and drove tractor trailer for awhile,  until 2001, when I came home and found myself singing for Darkling. This was my  favorite of all the bands I had been in and around. During this time, I began  HipKat Promotions, booking local and club level touring bands in local clubs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darkling ended up splitting, then reforming with a new line-up, as HKP  grew. I started the idea of putting unknowns on any stage with bands that drew,  in order to get them exposure. We rarely made any money, but the chance to play  at the better clubs, with good bands was good enough. Funny how many people use  that technique now in the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually though, my outspoken  nature, and my relationship with Buffalo's Rock 'n Roll Outlaw, &lt;i&gt;Bridget  Nine&lt;/i&gt;, forced me to be ostracised from the local music community, but I kept  my ear in it, and still have lots of good friends and good memories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we live in Peoria, IL, with our daughters, Veruka Nine &amp;amp;  Alice Evanka Nine, plotting our glorious return to conquer the mistake by the  lake, if we could have stayed together long enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day, I  hope, as Peoria basically sucks, but it's getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My #1 interest right now, is putting the pieces back together. Of my life. The  things that made me who I was when this all began. Working out every day, NOT  smoking, spiritual, hard working, driven to grow and succeed. I must get that  back, otherwise, how can I get anything else back?&lt;br /&gt;My main interests are my  daughters, Veruka Nine &amp;amp; Alice and the total recovery of myself. Both of  whom I love more than life, though, and ensuring that I provide the best life I  can for them, whether it's the best of times or if it's under the worst of  conditions, by always being there for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also am in support of Marijuana legalization, as opposed to just  decriminalizing it, and support all and any individuals and organizations that  also join in that support and work towards that goal, although I rarely smoke it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an exceptionally strong interest in seeing a One World community, seeing  an end to nations bullying, discriminating against, taking advantage of,  suppressing, starving, killing and enslaving their own people, and the people of  other nations that are weaker, practice other religions or ways of life. &lt;br /&gt;Only by creating a One World mentality, will we see civilization progress to  the next level in development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have an interest in fuming over the way we've basically killed this  planet.&lt;br /&gt;And in light of the imminent changes, I wish we'd stop throwing  concerts to raise awareness.&lt;br /&gt;The time for awareness is over.&lt;br /&gt;Now is the  time for action. Specifically, figuring out how we're going to survive these  changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a strong interest in the city of Buffalo, NY, where I'm from, originally,  and where I long to be.&lt;br /&gt;There really aren't many better places. I just wish  the people there would lose their defeatist attitudes and let the area prosper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other interest is making people understand I'm done putting up with bullshit. &lt;br /&gt;I hate being told what to do, or being forced to do it.&lt;br /&gt;Call it my love  for being free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and hard driving, fast, heavy, guitar driven music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the much maligned, tell it like it is,  complete asshole, who gets NO credit, yet walked away from any and everything I  had grown accustomed to, so that I could be with my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  did it my way, all the way and back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down.&lt;br /&gt;Still kicking and proving  them wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think HipKat!!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-5086541222450422039?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/5086541222450422039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=5086541222450422039' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5086541222450422039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5086541222450422039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/so-who-is-this-mysterious-hipkat.html' title='So who is this mysterious &quot;HipKat&quot;?'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5376742597780889510.post-5716859366509441944</id><published>2008-05-21T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T21:37:32.245-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life midlife family'/><title type='text'>So, this is a blog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"hey butch u and i r from the same town and  know some of the same people well dude i wish that i could be at a show of urs  but i am goin to iraq soon but i will try and make it to one later dude  "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I truly believe that the internet has done more  to lead to the decline of modern civilization and the death of the great  thinker. The preceding is a message I read off of another Myspace page. It  terrifies me that people use things like "r" instead of "are", "u" instead of  "you", etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I truly believed  that as the internet grew, it would help us to become smarter, to experience new  things, hear new music (well, it &lt;em&gt;has&lt;/em&gt; done that!), etc. As we reached  out to communicate with like minded people, it would create a global  "neighborhood". Instead, our kids are lazier, less motivated, and  illiterate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, on the sales floor, as &lt;u&gt;I Wanna Rock&lt;/u&gt; by  &lt;u&gt;Twisted Sister&lt;/u&gt; played, A kid that's about 22 years old stood up and asked  loudly, "Who &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; this?"&lt;br /&gt;I could only shake my head.&lt;br /&gt;In the late  80's, a series of movies entitled "The Decline of Western Civilization" were  released. They should have focused on the internet. I just can't understand why,  growing up in the 70's and 80's, I was so knowledgeable about music from past  generatoins, but nowadays, kids have no clue. Perhaps because it was actually  music.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;The afore-mentioned kid at work was angry that we  never hear &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt; music. Until one day, we relented; His choice is  techno-house-club music. Pointless, talentless noise, all programmed on a  computer, instead of played on instruments. And no, a computer is not a modern  day musical instrument. It can play, record, and modify music, but not create  it. It can't equal years of intensive training, learning to hit that note, or  stretching a finger to play that cord. Developing the timing it takes to play  all those drums and not hit a rim, accidentally. What the internet has done is  created a world of illiteracy and pedophilia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the most powerful tool  there is to mentally jerk yourself off. Men don't even have to leave the house  to cheat on their wives. You can be 38 and claim to be 25. Women are never fat  or unattractive. Every guy is a star, or rich, or a great  lover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who am I?? I've  wondered that myself, for as long as I can remember. For a long time, I just  wanted to be like somebody else; Someone that didn't get beat on in High School.  Someone that had friends. Someone that girls were attracted to. Someone that was  good looking. Someone that was talented, or funny. Someone whose parents had  stayed together. Or had not given me up for adoption to a family that was I  never felt a part of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've dabbled in everything, musically,  career-wise, locations, and I can truly say that I've fucked it all up. I've  been popular, but lost that. I was attractive, but let myself go. I played in  bands, even with people that had "made-it" (Tommy Kiefler of &lt;u&gt;Krokus&lt;/u&gt;, for  one), and walked away. I've worked all over the country, in many different  fields, and have nothing to show for it, except the love of a beautiful, and  equally maligned woman, swell, ok, that's gone too, but that one was all on her. That's gonna be a different blog post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Anyhow, where was I? Oh yeah, and two perfect creatures for daughters. Every other thing  in my life is gone. Where I want to be living, things I've owned, collected, all  gone. Treasured items, like Ozzy's personally autographed picture from Ozzfest  2003. A signed Slayer picture disk. My books. Every photo I ever took. My awesome job working for Clear Channel and seeing every concert for free, with FULL ACCESS!. And as much as I miss those things and pray I can get them back, I forget  all about them when I hold Veruka, or Alice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is  spinning out of control, and out of my reach, but I don't even care. There's not much more I can do about it, except ride it out and see where it ends up, picking up as many pieces as I can as the road winds by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of families, we  came to Illinois to be around family that wasn't as dysfunctional as mine, and I  found that Bridget's is equally fucked up, but in other  ways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Her Father scares me the most. A man of apparent  talent, who can only talk about his band that broke up 25 years ago, like they  were the Rolling Stones, not some local Peoria-based group that attracted a  second's glance, and then were quickly overlooked. (Quiz #1: Name me 10 people  from outside of this area that ever heard of The Jets). Who claims a great  comedian stole his ideas, and who single handedly took an emotionally frail,  young woman and turned her into his fantasy, live-in playmate of the month,  slut, to be paraded in front of countless computer monitors, leading her to  believe it's innocent &lt;em&gt;Girl Next Door&lt;/em&gt;-like. A woman who has to ask  &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt; what her favorite color is. Wait, I mean, &lt;em&gt;their&lt;/em&gt; favorite  color, as he picks out her clothes for her. And he's so caught up in his  neo-fantasy of younger women, that somehow, she stopped aging 13 years  ago.&lt;br /&gt;I'm intrigued to meet this guy, and yet afraid that I'll kill him at the  same time, because my daughter shares his DNA. This man actually sees himself as  being John Lennon-esque. Well, as far as being a dead-beat dad, I suppose he  is.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;So, this is life in my 40's. Trying to lose  weight that won't come off, regrow my gorgeous hair, keeping my family together,  and wondering if I'll ever grow up.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this is the beginning of my  mid-life crisis. Who knows??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5376742597780889510-5716859366509441944?l=thehippestkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/feeds/5716859366509441944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5376742597780889510&amp;postID=5716859366509441944' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5716859366509441944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5376742597780889510/posts/default/5716859366509441944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thehippestkat.blogspot.com/2008/05/so-this-is-blog.html' title='So, this is a blog.'/><author><name>HipKat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12403450036588425614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WwAJ6NYyw4o/SQOCtGNo3CI/AAAAAAAAABA/6zhvNHjzD6g/S220/hk5-1b9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
