<?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-31095867</id><updated>2011-07-28T21:37:17.736-07:00</updated><category term='reflections'/><category term='philosophy'/><category term='puerto rico'/><category term='adventures'/><category term='mexico city'/><category term='2008'/><category term='thoughts'/><title type='text'>I want my MTV</title><subtitle type='html'>My own personal editorial on life. For the masses, for the few, for me in the coming years, for whatever reason I choose to write down my thoughts, rants, raves, and 'isms.
Oh, and I'd also like to have Lisa Kogan's job but feel Oprah would be disappointed in my lack of enthusiasm when my writings are needed on demand.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-8089944803002476818</id><published>2010-08-10T15:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T15:30:36.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Completely Techy...</title><content type='html'>and not at all what I usually write about, however... I am compelled by necessity!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I bought a 1TB hard drive from Best Buy, what I didn't notice was that it was for Windows systems. &lt;br /&gt;(This being something I should of realized before I tore open the packaging and could not return it). I am a Mac person. Mac everything in my house.   After cursing myself for quite awhile, I listened to a voice of sanity. My roommate gave me the bright idea to just call the company who made it and see if they could help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did. &lt;br /&gt;And they did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never did I imagine they would, but I was pleasantly surprised! With that i give you the directions to reformat a Windows hard drive for use with a Mac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the Hard Drive plugged into your computer (via Firewire or USB whichever you have) proceed:&lt;br /&gt;1. Go to you Applications - then Utilities - then Disk Utility.&lt;br /&gt;2. Click Volume Scheme 1 Partition&lt;br /&gt;3. Under Volume Click Rename - Format Mac OS Extended Journaled&lt;br /&gt;4. Apple Partition Map - Click OK&lt;br /&gt;5. Then Apply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write this blog, because I WAS desperate to know how to do this. I scoured the internet and could not find it. So maybe, if you searched Google and needed this, maybe you found it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure wish I had found it!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-8089944803002476818?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/8089944803002476818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=8089944803002476818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/8089944803002476818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/8089944803002476818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2010/08/completely-techy.html' title='Completely Techy...'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-1133700991799496005</id><published>2010-05-13T22:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T22:10:57.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Survivor</title><content type='html'>Today, while talking about the story of how I was conceived and born, to a friend of mine. She stopped and gave me this stare. &lt;br /&gt;"that explains it" she said.&lt;br /&gt;"Explains what?"&lt;br /&gt;"Explains everything about you" she kept looking at me as if she knew a secret "it explains why you thrive. You have this thing Michelle, that no matter what you do its as if you will not give up, you thrive, and rise to meet challenges. And now I totally understand why"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insert me with perplexed look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because you are survivor, before you were even born you had to fight for the right to do that, so of course it courses threw your veins and in your being. You were meant to thrive and to LIVE."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;I had never had anyone put my life into context like that, and hearing her say this made it real. She had an answer to my disposition, but I began to realize the gift my mother had truly given me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Kris.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-1133700991799496005?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/1133700991799496005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=1133700991799496005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/1133700991799496005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/1133700991799496005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2010/05/survivor.html' title='Survivor'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-6706005645791750603</id><published>2009-09-16T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T14:03:34.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>quietly I return</title><content type='html'>Here it comes, the short paragraph return.&lt;br /&gt;OOh, was I setting the bar high when I said once a month! Even higher when I gave myself the once a week goal, to which I then failed!&lt;br /&gt;It was the writing on demand... even when I was demanding it of myself... It didn't come. Then the pressure became to much and well... Here we are 9 months later.&lt;br /&gt;I think I can sum up the rest of 2008 not so eloquently when I say&lt;br /&gt;MEXICO City was insane, I was drop kicked in the middle of a hairy scary production that left me befuddled and confused. I was negotiating the waters between a UK company, Televisa, a Miami Team, A Mexican cast of soccer players (all living in one leaky house - Coyoacan) and the only person I trusted left the day I landed.&lt;br /&gt;It got even more exciting when I returned to Miami and found that they had fired her, I was stuck in a contract and had to stick out what to this day is the craziest shoot I've ever done. Coming from a girl who's turned porcupines into prostitutes .. thats a big deal!&lt;br /&gt;After it was all over, I ran away to Key West for a day so I could ride my bike (well A bike and pretend like it was 2001) it was enough.&lt;br /&gt;The fall came and we Baracked it til the election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;**As the author I reserve the right to tell all the other stories about last fall at a later date. Should I deem them worthy. That is all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-6706005645791750603?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/6706005645791750603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=6706005645791750603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/6706005645791750603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/6706005645791750603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2009/09/quietly-i-return.html' title='quietly I return'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-7092140889245668773</id><published>2009-01-21T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T20:17:36.846-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='puerto rico'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mexico city'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflections'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2008'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Year 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;“The things we forget may as well never have happened” - Isabel Allende&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflections of a year gone by. In our lives our moments make a story, with starring roles, supporting characters, and guest stars.  Yet, its in the retelling of these moments that the stories live on, so I hope that in reflection I will give more moments to great times. *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 started off in Louisiana and ended with a short stint in Arkansas.  I had made a resolution to stay put more in 2008 and although it was a nice thought, I guess my inner wanderlust took over and really made the decisions for me. As it seems I was on the move more then ever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Orleans is magic.  It either captures your heart or turns you away forever, but there is no middle ground when it comes to loving N’awlins. Slow burning blues, that when playing motivates you to move even if you didn’t want to. Creeps inside your soul and convinces you that the grin and shimmy you now have.. has always been there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove the rental a long 13 hour drive and loved every minute of it. Florida is an excruciatingly long state for driving but I endured, Erika joined me for the ride up, as well as Ruby in for the adventure. (A good dog can do a 13 hour drive). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought Art from a man who was making it out of the scraps of what was left of his home...  I had café au lait and Marks West with Erika, all while freezing in a firehouse in the Marigny District....  I saw things on the internet I should of never seen... (Ewwww…)  I met two psychics who basically told me the same things,  I didn’t believe them at the time, but they were pretty spot on... I lit candles in a catholic church because Tito said thats the way it was written...ate magnificent food everywhere...came thisclose to staying in one of America’s most haunted houses...saw firsthand the devastation of Katrina 3 years later...saw firsthand the will of the people that survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was time to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to my only self-indulgent trip. A cruise with two of my best friends and thousands of others, the John Mayer **cruise.  You put a couple thousand like minded individuals on a boat with nothing but music everywhere and good vibes, suddenly excursions and midnight buffets are on no ones to do list. Happy people everywhere make for more happy people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate lunch with amazing musicians... watched john from a pool ten feet away with a drink in hand...took the time to watch the water from our balcony...said no to excursions and yes to time for myself...mastered some blackjack skills and won!...did a jig to a bluegrass band... and participated in shots handed out by Mr. Mayer himself (*at least thats how I like to remember it)...enjoyed every single minute of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was time to go to Puerto Rico.&lt;br /&gt;It had been 5 years since I had been to El Isla del Encanto. How do you pick a beach when the whole island is an option? I learned that I love and miss mofongo. I deeply want to learn how to cook this deliciousness yet don’t want to just as much, due to the super fried, super oily nature of this yummy business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 6am in the morning and we would meet in the lobby, ready for our mornings. Me and my dear friend Tito. A walking journey through the streets of Old San Juan, the temperature a perfect 72 degrees and my heart happy to be alive. We’d see the street cleaners as we pass through the Paseo de la Princessa only to arrive at this magnificent fountain, we’d make a right and head out near the water walking and talking. There were breathtaking views from El Morro, stepping it up on churches steps and finding a new way home each day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tito had tried to convince me before heading out to PR that I would need my passport, to which I quickly reminded him that “No, I did not.” I had no plans on going out of the country and wanted to come home after...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life had other plans, so after getting my passport shipped to the island it was on the adventure in Mexico City...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...to be continued)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* t&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;his story has been condensed to leave out all the boring bits. You know nights at home when I watch Law &amp; Order: SVU marathons, clean my house, garden or paint. Should a story present itself while I am painting or gardening I will do my best to write about it. Like if while painting I discovered I could channel Monet.. but until then, I remain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;** typically I think cruises are gluttonous, boring safe ways to say you’ve been somewhere without having to actually visit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-7092140889245668773?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/7092140889245668773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=7092140889245668773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/7092140889245668773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/7092140889245668773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2009/01/year-2008-things-we-forget-may-as-well.html' title=''/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-4986782086929297722</id><published>2009-01-01T16:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T17:11:59.797-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflections'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='philosophy'/><title type='text'>Hello</title><content type='html'>Its really with no fanfare at all that I return to the life of writing. Where did I go? Why was I gone for so long? &lt;br /&gt;It’s this grown up business. &lt;br /&gt;The business of being a grown up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will neither be self deprecating or self aggrandizing in saying that my writing is anything more then for my own amusement, but then again who’s isn’t?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its the first day of January 2009 and 2008 has held quite a few stories. Some are well known are some are better left forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder in this time of worry and fretfulness, what will prevail... anyone who knows me, knows that I am an eternal optimist. &lt;br /&gt;The glass is half full. &lt;br /&gt;The road less taken makes all the difference. &lt;br /&gt;The most massive characters are those that are seared with scars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet being on the road and looking at the people all over this country, I think of the children's movie “A bugs life”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A leaf has fallen in our path and we have lost sight of our line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if we will find it on our own, or if someone will have to walk us around it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-4986782086929297722?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/4986782086929297722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=4986782086929297722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/4986782086929297722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/4986782086929297722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2009/01/hello.html' title='Hello'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-7605912148392389206</id><published>2007-07-31T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T14:13:10.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Integrity, time on my hands, and Debbie Ford</title><content type='html'>I recently had a conversation with a dear friend about integrity. Well, actually I've had a couple of them. I have to say that its not a word I heard much or ever for that matter, growing up. However, looking back on my life I can see that although I was unfamiliar with the term it was how I was being raised. &lt;br /&gt;I feel its a bit of a pompous word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In·teg·ri·ty [in-teg-ri-tee] &lt;br /&gt;–noun&lt;br /&gt;1. adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty.&lt;br /&gt;2. Steadfast adherence to a strict moral or ethical code.&lt;br /&gt;3. The state of being unimpaired; soundness.&lt;br /&gt;4. The quality or condition of being whole or undivided; completeness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one is ever unimpaired or perfect per se and we have to accept the fact that culturally different societies have their own set of mores, taboos, and perceptions.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I feel like so many folks are confused. Confused to trust their own judgement and wisdom, confused that the platform from which they were taught, has been lost in translation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of that running through my mind and I get a little note from a contemporary thinker, philosopher, nutter, motivater, or whatever you make of her...Debbie Ford.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says the following below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admit the Truth&lt;br /&gt;We've all had bad things happen to us. And, being the complex humans that we are, we often compound our suffering by pushing away, denying the importance of, and rejecting people and experiences that have been important to us. But there is another way and what it requires are open eyes, an open mind, and -- ultimately -- an open heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to open up to the whole -- the all-encompassing pain and beauty -- and see how we can use that perspective to learn from our mistakes and the mistakes of others. We must find the gifts and take responsibility. There's no other option unless we want to be filled with anguish and misery and diminished by our losses. When we end a relationship, why do we find it so difficult to reach inside of ourselves and contact the love that brought us together with that person in the first place? It's so human to cut ourselves off. Why do we have to destroy something in order to create something else? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although we are a part of nature, we're different than a forest of trees. We don't have to have a blazing fire to generate new growth. Look at how many people cheat on their partner or spouse rather than say what's true, that they're ready to move on. Think about how people will sabotage a job rather than quit or stockpile toxic resentments rather than tell the truth about what they need and want. Rather than allowing unexpressed emotions to wreak havoc and force everyone around us to deal with the truth through distress and heartache, we can take the high road. And we can travel in the direction of integrity and honesty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Integrity is being able to admit what's true. When we're being in integrity, we're honoring the whole. We're not just looking through our own upsets, pain, and the ego needs that haven't been met. When we're looking through the eyes of the divine whole, we're able to see the perfection. That's being in integrity rather than justifying, twisting, and making wrong. When we can see the whole, we don't need to wish our past out of existence. We're able to simultaneously admit to what we've lost and what we have gained. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, when we reject people and invalidate circumstances as a way to move on, we pay a high price. To deny what has been important to us in the past is to not see it for the spiritual gift that it is. There is a gift. And it's our job to find it. And how we'll know that we've found it is that we'll bless it. We'll honor its existence. And regarding the people involved in helping us to find that gift -- a lover, boss, friend, employee, child, parent, or partner -- we will wish them well. At a deep level, the emotional freedom that comes with that acknowledgment and honoring is the most extraordinary bonus gift imaginable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;Where does this leave me? Searching for those who can stand to be honest not only with others.. but with themselves.&lt;br /&gt;It's not so hard, is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love and light,&lt;br /&gt;Michi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-7605912148392389206?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/7605912148392389206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=7605912148392389206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/7605912148392389206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/7605912148392389206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2007/07/integrity-time-on-my-hands-and-debbie.html' title='Integrity, time on my hands, and Debbie Ford'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-7790749033059839131</id><published>2007-02-08T09:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T09:15:42.932-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shittiest night ever...</title><content type='html'>Okay maybe it wasn't the shittiest night ever... but since I'm always writing about how wonderful things are, I thought I'd give some insight into the fabulous life gone wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After working a long week and injuring myself in the way only I can, self induced disability, (by slipping on dripped water in my own home!) I sprained my foot. So this whole week in production for a concert series during the superbowl I was limping badly through the Jackie Gleason Theater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By yesterday morning though I was back at 95% slight pain but nothing that stopped me from working out. Things were looking good as I got ready to attend the 2nd party that I chose to go to. You see i had all these invites for parties and I chose a certain two, because of accessibility and timing, as well as the open bar and type of event. I rsvp tell the folks that I'm coming and bringing my plus one or two and voila! So I'm set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get dressed, its a great night and I'm off to meet a friend to go to the Vice Party with Pharrell and Miri Ben Ami, blah blah blah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I park far so that I can walk around south beach in my snazzy little coach shoes, and take my ipod because it makes things so much nicer. Upon getting to the Cameo (no longer Crobar) we stand with the huddled vip masses who are insisting that they are on the list, in wait to get in. There are 4 lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VIP Tables&lt;br /&gt;VIP&lt;br /&gt;Guest List&lt;br /&gt;General Admission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did mention huddled masses right? It was just that, but I'm used to it. My friend (being a man) was telling me to push my way to the front tell them my name already and get us in. I explain that no one is getting in and that they are making us beautiful people stand outside to draw attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So stuck between the 40 something year olds ESPN guys and the barely 20 year old models we wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I get someones attention and she's checking my name on the list. Apparently I'm not on ANY list. Apparently the crazy publicist who sent me the invite, the press release and personally invited me has nothing to do with the event. I try not to take off silly door bitches head as I tell her that I have a personal invite from one of the largest PR folks in the country and she gives me the door in headlights look.&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know what to tell you, you're not on the list"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm mortified. I got dressed! I left my house! I braved traffic to drive my ass to South beach and hang out with the insanely inappropriately dress H&amp;K crowd! I'm livid. I also had to tell my friend (who left a bunch of his friends going to Diddy's party) that it was a bust.&lt;br /&gt;I argued with him to go back to his boys and leave me next to the orange ferrari. I would be fine. 5 minutes later he's off. I walk across washington and realize, that my vertigo pants are ripped along the seam halfway up my leg. How did that happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call Barbara who lives on the beach and is a hermit, and she comes to meet me with her dog. She's in her PJ's. We chat for a bit, I stop by her apt. I bitch and moan and then say "okay I have to go, thanks for the veggie corn dog."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I begin to walk to my car,&lt;br /&gt;It begins to rain, I am limping again.&lt;br /&gt;I can't catch a cab.&lt;br /&gt;I have two blisters on my toes.&lt;br /&gt;I'm now soaking wet.&lt;br /&gt;I try to call Barbara, the battery on my phone goes dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND amidst the ripped, pants wet dog, limping mess that I am! I am still cat called! and silently followed along Meridian by 4 rather large men in some type of truck hollering such nice things as&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mama, let me dry you off"&lt;br /&gt;"You need a ride sugar, let me take you home"&lt;br /&gt;"Lemme go home with you?"&lt;br /&gt;"Hot damn mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ad nauseum....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for reading and now you know why some nights its just better to stay home!&lt;br /&gt;xo,&lt;br /&gt;Michi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-7790749033059839131?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/7790749033059839131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=7790749033059839131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/7790749033059839131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/7790749033059839131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2007/02/shittiest-night-ever.html' title='Shittiest night ever...'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-9195073366422903551</id><published>2007-02-08T09:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T08:07:08.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday afternoons...</title><content type='html'>With so much time to reflect on things lately I can't believe I'm not writing more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say that it does have something to do with the fact that I can't blog from my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laptop:&lt;br /&gt;For those of you familiar with my little gem, she's vintage. Vintage Mac. Circa 2001, Graphite clamshell series, with firewire and wireless (she was the first of her kind). She's been durable and hardworking and has traveled with me far and wide. I find it sad to think her time is coming to end... that she is approaching the twilite of her life with me. I remember taking her to Glasgow in 2001 where my dear friend Stephen looked at me and said "what the hell is a Mac?"..or the cute little bag I bought that not only looks like a replica of her shell, but has a little viewwindow! Ahh... good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, her entire hard drive is only 20G and I can't upgrade her to any MacOS X because she will die from the sheer spatial needs of that program. So she has become the spreadsheet, email, word doc queen. Leaving me to head out to the shack for all my blogging needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found Animals:&lt;br /&gt;It seems that anything lost or looking for guidance happens upon my door. I'm talking about dogs, cats, people, you name it. Billy nicknamed my house the Lackawanna house of Miami. I can't help it. It's who I am. I tend to think of that little poem/anecdote (lo que sea) that says God shows up at your doorstep in disguise. Arguing over the fact that even though the cat has been hit by a car and has one eye, I have to do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garnet:&lt;br /&gt;Garnet is my company for those of you under a rock or just never listened when I talk about anything besides my dating days. We brought on a fabulous female named Marita Leonard to direct/manage "Special Events". Meaning, me and Veronica are doing the tv/film thing and Marita will be handling all of the non televised event production, large and small. She's awesome! For notices on what we are doing just check out my calendar for upcoming events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Mayer:&lt;br /&gt;I think he is a gift to humanity. I recently went to the concert here in Miami with my darling John Mayer fanatical friend Kris and *sigh*swoon* it was moving. In a market so saturated with pop culture products and artists who have huge dog and pony shows to buff up their careers. He is simply fantastic. It is waking up, putting on a fluffy pink bathrobe while I walk around with my hair tousled looking for my cup of coffee and thinking... "Life is good". I can listen to him all day long and given the opportunity he provides the perfect slow dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams &amp; Nightmares&lt;br /&gt;I dream so vividly that it scares the shit out of me. I also have been known to talk in my sleep, sing in my sleep, karoake in my sleep, have conversations in my sleep, sit upright, etc. Lord knows whats going on during the unconscious hours but whatever it is, its happening. Last night provided me with a HORRIBLE HORRIBLE image that would show up randomly in my dream as a flash like that little girl from the ring. Except this creature was like a giant praying mantis head with a beasts body standing upright with jowels like the predator. (Which I might add is one of the only things to ever scare me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Superbowl:&lt;br /&gt;Its superbowl week in Miami! Which means overpriced hotel rooms, 200 times the amount of tourists, insane people on the roads, tons of work all happening at exactly the same time, parties I will be too busy to go too, and fun fun fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men:&lt;br /&gt;I still know nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highlights of the past couple weeks:&lt;br /&gt;Sitting ringside at the Showtime heavyweight fight! Complete with sweat and blood being flung at me from the ropes! It was awesome!!! It is a deep seated desire I have to kick a lot of ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Free tickets to see Mike Epps and Dominik during the South beach comedy festival! HILAROUS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving up to Orlando and interviewing Fall Out Boy, they rock and are awesome guys. But the drive was the best part, mostly because I got to just ride along. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lowlight:&lt;br /&gt;The 10 year anniversary party at Nikki Beach... I'm sorry it didn't feel like an event. Besides free vodka and rum, it was like any other night at Nikki Beach.&lt;br /&gt;Boo! They could of done so much with it... But ooh, wait.. maybe they did for those invisible people that showed up early, the invisible hor's deuvres, and the invisible open bar.&lt;br /&gt;Thumbs down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I said everything I wanted too... nah... But if you read all of this LEAVE ME A COMMENT because that means you are truly interested in what I have to say and I should pay more attention to you then anyone else. I know I have a knack for neglection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love ya,&lt;br /&gt;Michi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-9195073366422903551?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/9195073366422903551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=9195073366422903551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/9195073366422903551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/9195073366422903551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2007/02/sunday-afternoons.html' title='Sunday afternoons...'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-2666358682505877982</id><published>2007-01-04T08:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T08:27:40.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For 2007</title><content type='html'>As 2006 closes, I must say it was an enlightening year.&lt;br /&gt;I learned from some about the path not to take and from others that &lt;br /&gt;its' okay not to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took 3 vacations and didn't worry about what would be best for &lt;br /&gt;business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I replaced the phrase "had to" with "should".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I traveled to the middle of this country and saw part of the heartland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the devastation in Louisiana and a little town called Del Rio, Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned that if I run out of my back door faster then Ruby and hide &lt;br /&gt;behind the wall, I can scare her when she comes out. It works every time I &lt;br /&gt;swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned that if I didn't push those around me for more, the waves &lt;br /&gt;will settle and we all just float on. I learned I need to push. I'm a &lt;br /&gt;pusher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned that  people are looking to be a part of something great and &lt;br /&gt;would jump at any opportunity to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the doctor and kept the resolution to take care of my health,&lt;br /&gt;teeth, etc in 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2007,  I can't be afraid to keep going. Sometimes we lose our &lt;br /&gt;motivation, our inspiration runs dry, and our dreams run low. But if we tend to the&lt;br /&gt;light inside a little bit every day I think it can burn brighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to clean out the kibble and make room for only the things I hold&lt;br /&gt;necessary to life. No excess, no more mass consuming of sale products, &lt;br /&gt;no to the "I may need it" philosophy.&lt;br /&gt;I want to take care of myself inside and out, and my one wish for 2007 &lt;br /&gt;is that I can wake up every day and remember this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-2666358682505877982?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/2666358682505877982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=2666358682505877982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/2666358682505877982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/2666358682505877982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2007/01/for-2007.html' title='For 2007'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-4888987287571598641</id><published>2006-12-22T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T07:42:20.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a thought...</title><content type='html'>On a serious note, I sat with Vero in Jackson Memorial today waiting for her mom to come out of surgery. Things proceeded and everything is okay but while we were waiting there was a woman who may have been late 40's but looked haggard, obese, and had obvious health issues that put her in an electronic wheelchair. Our conversation began easy enough with talk of Grey's Anatomy, McDreamy vs. McSteamy, I'm guessing her loneliness was too much as she was jumping at the chance to talk to us on any topic. She made it a point to stick her finger down her throat and imitate vomiting noises at the revelation that the actor who plays George O'Malley on &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204);" id="lw_1166801607_0"&gt;GA&lt;/span&gt; is gay.  I didn't know how to respond to that one as we were in a WAITING room so I let it go.&lt;br /&gt;We browsed the newsweek for the 50 things that could change your life this year and somehow we came across Obama's book and a quick snip. I mention it to Vero and the humanitarian of the year pipes in again against Obama and against Hillary. At this point I really wished I was a meaner person, but I just held my liberal head in position and waited for the ignorance to subside. Veronica, tried to actually reason with the Republican.&lt;br /&gt;Later we discussed that its not us vs. them, but ignorance vs. enlightened. Who is on what side is tbd, but I know that for sure if Obama is placing his platform so that red and blue states can work together I'm all for it.&lt;br /&gt;If not our generation is going to keep waiting, waiting on the world to change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-4888987287571598641?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/4888987287571598641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=4888987287571598641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/4888987287571598641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/4888987287571598641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2006/12/just-thought.html' title='Just a thought...'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-2925280454670069809</id><published>2006-12-22T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T07:39:16.498-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Late night blogging</title><content type='html'>So apparently the fates were in my favor this morning as I returned late (say 4:30am) at home with a desire to write.  I wrote a blog at that time under the influence and I have to say the first thing I thought of this morning was OHMYGOD what did I say...&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless I was too busy to go online and delete this morning. However, when I went to go see what folks had been commenting on I saw the Gods of myspace never posted my rantings!&lt;br /&gt;It just disappeared into thin air! Ever so grateful for that twist of fate I decided to write another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current things that I'm amused with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Crickets&lt;/b&gt;, I can hear them outside my window now that the unbearable heat of being has lessened to a moderate temperature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My friends&lt;/b&gt;, they never cease to amaze me with the the ideas and things they throw at me as plausible actions for my life to move towards. I.e.&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, female brothels are very common Michelle! You should go and try it out! Then come home and tell me about it.." or&lt;br /&gt;"You're the more reserved one out of all my friends Michelle, most women I know have already slept with other women by your age." or&lt;br /&gt;"There's a lot of things happening in the rest of Florida and the real estate market is in your favor now"&lt;br /&gt;"You should really try pretending to be that famous girl you look like, I bet you could get free stuff"&lt;br /&gt;"Michelle, I could never hook you up with one of my friends... I'd only hook you up with a good guy and my friends are assholes, are you looking to date assholes now?"&lt;br /&gt;"You see! They do have happy ending massages for women!"&lt;br /&gt;I can't go on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My resurrected Ipod&lt;/b&gt;, it died a slow sad death before I went to the Vineyard this summer&lt;br /&gt;I resurrecected it and have it almost back to welterweight fighting status. It isn't color, click wheel, video, or even nano-fied, but hells bells that little bitch works and I LOVE IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vocabulary&lt;/b&gt;, I sometimes feel as if mine is shrinking by  the minute and I'm forced to read random clinical  papers online to make my brain feel like its being challenged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couchsurfing.com&lt;/b&gt;, if you have any wanderlust in you and are not jaded by your experience with humanity, you should check out this site. I have been involved for a couple of years now and have had a great experience hosting folks from all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vodka &amp; Pinot Noir&lt;/b&gt;, I love drinking Pinot Noir lately its soooo good and well damn it, it makes me happy in a "i'm in the first row during dance class" kind of way... Vodka makes me happy in a way that I pay for later, however I had to mention that theres a Vodka called Effen.&lt;br /&gt;"hey mister, gimme an Effen Vodka martini!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; There and back again&lt;/span&gt;, Sean Astin wrote a book and I bought it from the dollar bin at Borders. He's so blindingly honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Quote of the day:&lt;/span&gt; "I can't look at you, because the truth is...I'm blinded by your magnificence" -AR&lt;br /&gt;xo,&lt;br /&gt;Michi&lt;br /&gt;ps. Sorry I was gone for so long...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-2925280454670069809?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/2925280454670069809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=2925280454670069809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/2925280454670069809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/2925280454670069809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2006/12/late-night-blogging.html' title='Late night blogging'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31095867.post-115283096409561310</id><published>2006-07-13T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T15:49:24.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A blog failure</title><content type='html'>What happens in the world when no one reads what you write down and information spreads like a virus that no antidote could ever keep up with?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31095867-115283096409561310?l=thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/feeds/115283096409561310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31095867&amp;postID=115283096409561310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/115283096409561310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31095867/posts/default/115283096409561310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thatgirlwhowearsglasses.blogspot.com/2006/07/blog-failure.html' title='A blog failure'/><author><name>Michi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3ffLcJujo00/SXf2MWpoXpI/AAAAAAAADdU/HjQfelMDzKU/S220/Photo+17.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
