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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35</id>
  <title>Which one is this?</title>
  <subtitle>Get out of my temporal lobe, House!</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Like watching a monkey swallow a hand grenade</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2005-06-01T18:41:10Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="465353" username="unclebill35" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:169333</id>
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    <title>Grass needed trimming</title>
    <published>2005-05-25T14:40:11Z</published>
    <updated>2005-05-25T21:48:05Z</updated>
    <content type="html">And I trimmed my FL a little bit.  No offense intended, just dropped a few who either didn't make many entries, or those whose entries tended to swing toward subject matter that wasn't a great match for me and my brain.  No hard feelings, 'kay?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:163374</id>
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    <title>Kinda sad, but kinda not</title>
    <published>2005-04-20T16:56:41Z</published>
    <updated>2005-04-21T01:13:37Z</updated>
    <category term="betsy"/>
    <content type="html">When I lived in Maine, I worked with Betsy, a very nice woman a few years younger than me, and we became friends.  She often spoke of her sister, Darcy, but I never met her.  Darcy was an English teacher/professor and wrote a lot.  We  (me and Betsy) kept in touch after I left Maine, I sponsored her three-day bike rides across the state to raise money for AIDS research, I gave her emotional support when she went back to school and finished her degree after an eight or ten year lapse, tried to hook her up with some guy I know in Maine, yadda, yadda.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving one day when I lived in Miami, listening to an essay NPR with Lise, and I remarked that the lady talking sounded an AWFUL lot like Betsy.  She was talking about how she discovered she had ALS, or Lou Gehrig's Disease, and how it affected her running, and her outlook on life.  I knew it WASN'T Betsy because she had hurt her knee pretty badly, and HATED running.  The essay ended, and the NPR announcer said it was Ms. Darcy Wakefield of Portland, Maine.  Betsy's sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I about shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ALS is fatal within a few short years, and she noticed it when she couldn't run one day (I knew SHE was a big runner).  I e-mailed Betsy and told her what I had heard on the radio, and got the story.  Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago I got an e-mail from Betsy with a link to another NPR essay by Darcy (actually this one was Maine Public Radio, the Maine Things Considered show, March 31).  I followed the link, and it was being read by Betsy, since Darcy wasn't talking all that well anymore.  They sound so much alike.  I can't imagine reading your dying sister's essay about her disease for broadcast on national radio.  But she (Darcy) has a real zest for life, so it wasn't really a sad essay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got another e-mail.  Darcy wrote (is writing) a book. &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/1569243530/qid=1114040922/sr=8-2/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i1_xgl14/104-5781091-4687155?v=glance&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;n=507846" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I Remember Running, The Year I Got Everything I Wanted - and ALS&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  It's coming out October 10th.  I do hope she is still alive, and able to see it on the bookstore shelves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the description:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Darcy shares what she calls her "fast-forward" life, a life in which she applies for disability, leaves her job, and plans her own funeral as well as meets and moves in with her true love, buys a house, and gives birth to her first child in less time than it takes most of us to accomplish even one of these things.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm buying it.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:146053</id>
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    <title>To whom it may concern</title>
    <published>2005-02-09T12:29:35Z</published>
    <updated>2005-06-01T18:41:10Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My journal is nearly 100% Friends Only, so I can talk freely behind other peoples backs.  But seriously, if you've clicked me for some reason, I do exist outside other peoples' comment sections.  I can't say it is an exciting existence, but there is one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you "Friend" me and I don't "Friend" you right back, it is very likely I did not notice, I don't pay a heck of a lot of attention to that sort of thing.  So a comment would ring that little e-mail bell and I'll know.  I give my FL the once-over about every six months or so, if I think of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ETA:  I'm screening comments here, FWIW.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:112382</id>
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    <title>unclebill35 @ 2004-07-15T10:50:00</title>
    <published>2004-07-15T07:50:42Z</published>
    <updated>2004-07-15T16:29:27Z</updated>
    <content type="html">One fateful Saturday evening in August of 2001, a woman in a short black miniskirt and a loose white blouse walked into a Chicago bar.  She was a hottie, for sure.  We chatted, she sat on my lap, and we went our separate ways.  But not for long.  Events conspired to have us meet up again three months later, this time on purpose, at Miami International Airport.  After a quick lunch, we drove five hours to Key West for a fling, not once turning on the music, since the conversation never lagged.  Dinner, discussions, touring, walking, shopping, and sitting on a bench at the marina.  That was the moment, sitting on the bench that weekend, overlooking the Hyatt Marina, drinking a cold drink, that something inside me changed.  All of a sudden she looked different to me.  This was good.  I dropped her back at the airport and went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so absorbed in her, I forgot I was getting on a plane the next day for a business trip.  We compared schedules, deciding to see each other again as soon as possible.  We did, two weeks later.  The spark was still there.  Two weeks after that, still going strong, and growing stronger.  Pretty soon that feeling I got back on that bench in Key West started to have a name.  Love.  That year was a busy one, professing our love, asking for her hand, moving in together, and getting married, back in the spot we had our first date.  Our honeymoon sail departed right in front of that bench we had sat on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then we have had happy times and sad times, easy days and hard days, but we have always had them together, sharing with each other and supporting each other.  Today is the day she was brought into this world, a day I treasure even though I would not be around for another two years.  This is only her third birthday we have shared, but we will share 50 more together, making our grandchildren embarrassed, telling us to get a room.  And we will get a room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to my wonderful and beautiful bride.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:111677</id>
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    <title>unclebill35 @ 2004-07-12T09:20:00</title>
    <published>2004-07-12T06:23:19Z</published>
    <updated>2004-07-12T15:58:27Z</updated>
    <content type="html">For those of you who have driven the highways and byways of the Southeastern United States, there are a few "quiet" stretches of interstate, with only a pine tree every so often to break up the monotony of pine trees.  Not even the odd billboard can be seen for dozens of miles in some areas.  You are often the only vehicle in sight.  Among my circle of friends and family, I-16, from Macon, GA to Savannah, GA, is one of the least scintillating of the group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About six years ago I was living in Savannah, and drilling with the Marine Corps Reserve in Marietta, GA, just a hair north of Atlanta.  This was about a 4 hour drive, door to door.  I would come home from work Friday, change into jeans and grab my stuff, and set off about 6 or 6:30pm into the setting sun, driving toward my sworn duty.  After a fun-filled weekend of protecting this great nation of ours, I generally departed the services of our government about 6pm or so, to start my return to Savannah via I-75, and then that long, lonely road, I-16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make up things to amuse yourself while driving alone at night on an empty interstate highway.  I sang loudly, played out fantasies in my mind, and generally kept from going batshit crazy on that dark road.  Then I saw it.  Something small and white flashed by my car, on the right side.  My headlights barely illuminated it for a half second.  It was in the right lane of the highway, so I figured somebody's tee shirt had flown out a window, or something.  The memory was quickly pushed aside by some heroic deed in my mind, or something for the next several miles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it was again!  Another white thing was in the highway, as I flashed by my peripheral vision at 70mph.  Oh, HO!  We have a MYSTERY!  Now I was intrigued.  There are never only TWO of something.  An object can be unique, or there can be many of them, but never only two.  I turned the music down to sharpen my senses.  I scanned ahead for the next weird object.  FLASH!  THERE IT WENT!  OK, now there was a pattern emerging.  I was on the job.  I wasn't going to slow DOWN or anything, but I was watching...  Waiting…  Scanning…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZOOM!  ANOTHER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I was no closer to an answer than when I thought it was a lone tee shirt.  I probably saw eight or ten of these unidentified white objects over about 20 minutes.  It was starting to bug me.  Then out of the darkness ahead I saw the lights of a tractor trailer pulled off to the side of the highway.  I slowed a bit as I approached, and I saw the driver out in the back of the trailer closing a small door.  It was a chicken hauler.  Hauling &lt;i&gt;chickens&lt;/i&gt;.  With an open door in the back.  I could just imagine those poor creatures, talking quietly amongst themselves, discussing politics and whatnot, when &lt;b&gt;FOOMP&lt;/b&gt;, Bob is gone.  Helen scootches over to the space where Bob used to be as the discussion turns to sports (San Diego is their favorite), then &lt;b&gt;FOOMP&lt;/b&gt;, Helen disappears.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the recently departed, that brief, shining moment of freedom, that feeble attempt to gain airspeed to lessen the impact as the dark pavement, zipping by underneath them at breakneck speed, gets closer and closer, then, darkness.  They are nothing but a white "thing" in the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason my wife finds this endlessly entertaining.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:97805</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/97805.html"/>
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    <title>You may all now exhale</title>
    <published>2004-05-02T16:42:19Z</published>
    <updated>2004-05-03T01:12:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">We have triumphantly returned from my 20th HS Reunion.  Of the 35 surviving graduates, 28 were there.  And the  mother and grandmother of the one who was killed were in attendence today, so Curt was there, kinda.  I'll say 29 out of 36.  One of the missing seven is living in Hong Kong, so we give her a pass, but the guy in Stuttgart made it.  Two of the guys who missed it live within 50 miles, so they shall be scolded harshly.  So, Kelly gets the pass, but Steve, Scott, the other Steve, Lorraine, Tim, and Clyde; you got some 'splainin to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lise took lots of pictures that show what my hometown is like, maybe she'll be kind enough to link to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Edited to Add&lt;/b&gt;: She was kind enough to send me the link:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imagestation.com/album/?id=4286987789" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="https://imgprx.livejournal.net/d6a29d174d6f616eb99d3d2cc477a9cecc0a14da29d125e368401c697ed341d6/P2WlxyVijxKvg25v8MpVVUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbtejtfW4AzVgciqBgQlD0o4F0BwsUdG0zTNLABKEF8ZkxEv5gkbg37cB-iN709dmxN0PgbjHa2ev8cMlA:BDceZiX5iM_XwH6MW2sGtw" border="0" fetchpriority="high"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:97652</id>
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    <title>unclebill35 @ 2004-04-30T14:34:00</title>
    <published>2004-04-30T11:35:52Z</published>
    <updated>2004-04-30T18:36:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">As I was reurning from a customer visit yesterday, I saw a Rooms-To-Go OUTLET STORE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up?  Entertainment Center!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swung in, most thing were scratch-and-dent-ish, but with some looking around I'm sure we can find what we want, and save 30% or so.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:97440</id>
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    <title>unclebill35 @ 2004-04-30T10:21:00</title>
    <published>2004-04-30T07:44:55Z</published>
    <updated>2004-04-30T14:50:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Since I mentioned that "adventures of the armed, locked and loaded redneck at that truck stop in Georgia (.357 AND 12 guage!)" in an earlier entry, and we are headed down that same road tonight, I'll recap the fun, in case we disappear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were driving down I-16 in Georgia to go to my parents' house for Easter, when, lo and behold, Lise had to pee.  The next exit indicated some places with restrooms, so I took it.  There was a BIG TRUCKSTOP, and a small truckstop.  We went to the small one.  More of a country store, with a pool table, racks of junk food, coffee, and some food warmers under glass with paleolithic foodstuffs.  A coupla good old boys, and gals, were there, sitting by the door, chatting.  Well, the restrooms are not in danger of being featured in &lt;b&gt;Home and Garden&lt;/b&gt; anytime soon, but it flushed.  I got out first, and cruised the aisles for Coke and a snack.  There were folks around the counter, so I hung back in the aisles, waiting for Lise to get out and see if she wanted anything, to get it rung up together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then two redneck guys came strolling in from outside, packing heat.  One pump-action .12 Guage Shotgun, and two rather large revolvers.  I took in the situation, and deemed it not overly dangerous (as in hold-up dangerous) and held my position, six or eight feet from the counter, holding my Coke and Snickers.  The lead redneck, with the boom stick, went behind the counter and proceded to start loading shotgun shells.  The woman behind the counter yelled at him to not load that thang in there, just before he racked a shell into the chamber with that oh-so-distinctive noise.  About this time Lise enters the picture.  Lead Redneck then is handed one big-ass revolver from the Assistant Redneck, and he flips it open and says, "OOOOO-Dogie!  Them there's .357 Magnums!" or some such outbust, as his dialect was some distant relation of, yet somehow similar to English.  The lady (and I do use that term loosely) behind the counter apparently thought I was hanging back due to the brandishing of locked-and-loaded firearms at the cash register, when I had planted myself there in order to consolidate our purchase.  Lise was somehow not hungry at the moment, and I proceded to go up and pay the Lead Redneck, whose hands were temporarily empty of firearms.  He kindly offered my the use of one of his pistols, in case I felt I could use it, but upon assessing our needs, I politely declined.  There has apparently been some sort of disturbance, but since the recounting of which was being expressed in the local vernacular, many details may be sketchy.  The gist of it is two black guys did something, and there may have been a helicopter involved.  Or a "Hell of a Copper", I'm not entirely confident in my translation skills.  More than likely the most action that wide spot in the road had seen in years, but just in case lightning struck twice and it happened again that same night, those boys were ready.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:97018</id>
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    <title>High Scholl</title>
    <published>2004-04-30T04:06:16Z</published>
    <updated>2004-04-30T11:07:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Unlike a lot of folks out there, I am looking forward to my high school reunion this weekend.  My two old best buds are staying with us at my parents' house, like we did hundreds of times 20 years ago.  Just an informal get-together tonight, music, dinner, dancing tomorrow night, then a picnic out on one guy's family plantation (the brother of the Governor of SC) Sunday afternoon.  It's more of a working farm than "plantation", but it is the South, and it is called a Plantation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss is out of town, so I can slip out maybe two hours early and get a jump on driving.  Maybe 5 1/2 hours back to the homestead.  Scooter will have the apartment to himself.  Scary thought.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:94766</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/94766.html"/>
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    <title>First I would like to thank</title>
    <published>2004-04-11T16:54:44Z</published>
    <updated>2004-04-11T16:54:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">...that nice SC Highway Patrol Officer who verified my speedometer and cruise control accuracy this afternoon, yes it WAS set on 74mph, how nice of you to check that for me.  He went above and beyond the call of duty when he then subtracted 10 from that number to put me only 9mph above the posted speed limit of 55.  Scooter was SO hung over from catnip overdosing that he barely awoke for the event.  We are all three home now, the new addition is exploring the digs, murmuring his approval every so often.  These next few days will tell us how much we have cat-proofed the joint.  More from Lise on the adventures of the armed, locked and loaded redneck at that truck stop in Georgia (.357 AND 12 guage!)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:94171</id>
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    <title>unclebill35 @ 2004-04-03T23:31:00</title>
    <published>2004-04-03T20:31:31Z</published>
    <updated>2004-04-03T20:31:31Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Shit.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:93794</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/93794.html"/>
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    <title>I didn't do it!  I was somewhere else!</title>
    <published>2004-04-02T10:43:23Z</published>
    <updated>2004-04-02T10:43:23Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. When John F. Kennedy was shot (11/22/1963)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not even a gleam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. When Mt. St. Helens blew (5/18/1980)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In eighth grade, at Beaufort Junior High School.  Don't recall the specific day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. When the space shuttle Challenger exploded (1/28/1986)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sophomore at Duke, I recall people tenuously beginning the jokes that day.  I think I was on West Campus, in front of the C.I. when I first heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. When the 7.1 earthquake hit San Francisco (10/7/1989)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a 2ndLt in the Marines, stationed at MCAS Cherry Point, NC.  Don't recall specifics of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. When the Berlin Wall fell (11/7/1989)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still a 2ndLt at Cherry Point, I like to think I shared in the credit fot THIS event.  (Radio intercepts from Moscow were interpreted to say roughly "Aw, Crapski!  The Evil Americanskis now haff ze secret veapon, zey haff UncleBill now!  Ve must capitulate!")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. When the Gulf War began (1/16/1991)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a 1stLt.  In my sleeping bag in the Saudi desert about 15km from the Kuwaiti border with the HQ Element of the 2nd Mar Div.  At about 2:45am I woke up, with the sensation that a squadron of B-52s was in my sleeping bag with me, the noise was so loud from the massive air strikes headed north.  I had a fleeting moment thinking about the guys we were faced off with across the border, thinking their world was about to go to shit in the next five minutes, then realizing I was going to have a busy day the next day and went back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;7. When OJ Simpson was chased in his White Bronco (6/17/1994)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was working 2nd Shift at a box plant in Buffalo, the now ex-wife called me, she had lived in that area and knew all the roads.  We had no TV at work, so she gave me the blow-by-blow over the phone until I got home and watched live on TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;8. When the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was bombed (4/19/1995)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had just started at a box plant in Auburn, ME.  I was at work when we heard, and the TV in the conference room was turned on, with a bunch of people watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;9. When Princess Di was killed (8/31/1997)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was living in Savannah, GA, and kinda found out about it via normal news channels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;10. When Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold opened fire on their classmates at Columbine High School (4/20/1999)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still living in Savannah, at work, probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;11. When Bush was first announced President (11/7/2000)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miami, Floriduh, the center of confusion.  I went to bed after the newsies called Florida (and the Nation) for Gore, maybe about 9pm or so.  When they flip-flopped and called it for Bush later that night, I was asleep.  By the time I woke up they had admitted they didn't know what the hell was going on.  I learned a lot about the FL Statutes, as I fought ignorance with folks via e-mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;12. When the 6.8 earthquake hit Nisqually, WA (2/28/2001)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had an earthquake?  I was living in Miami, but may have been out of the country.  I have detailed records of my whereabouts recorded at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;13. When terrorists destroyed the World Trade Center. (9/11/2001)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a convention in Las Vegas.  I was getting dressed and turned on the news after the first hit, but before the second hit.  Not much was accomplished that day at the convention.  A projection screen was brought into the convention hall lobby, and there was always a crowd.  I was odd being in Vegas casinos, with all of the football and baseball betting screens blank because all the games were cancelled.</content>
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    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:93409</id>
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    <title>Update</title>
    <published>2004-03-26T05:47:12Z</published>
    <updated>2004-03-26T05:47:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So, we are headed to the NCAA Sweet Sixteen (Atlanta Region) games tonight, with a swanky Duke party beforehand (real sit-down food and everything!).  Due to my mad Alumni Skillz, we have two tix in the Duke section.  I had to pay for them, my skillz are not THAT mad, but we'll be sitting with the Faithful, and not the rabblerousers off the street.  Saturday we drive up into the northern Atlanta boonies to check out a 32" TV.  Yup, Thirty-Freakin-Two Inches!  Someone is selling it used, it is about 8 hunnert bones in the box.  We be snaggin dat biach for under less than half.  If it works and all.  We can put a board on top of my stereo cabinet and speakers and it should hold all 115 lbs of gorgeous viewing capacity until we get a proper entertainment center, which will be right after we get a dining room table.  And some chairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully get Jaw-Jah Drivers Licenses also Saturday.  And watch the Duke Women kick Louisiana Tech's sorry asses back to Bayou.  Then (Good Lord Willin and the Creek Don't Rise) we'll be back at the Georgia Dome Sunday for Duke's last victory before they enter the Final Four.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:93003</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/93003.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=93003"/>
    <title>Tarred</title>
    <published>2004-03-20T19:38:18Z</published>
    <updated>2004-03-20T19:38:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Spent the day putting my new desk together and unpacking office stuff, then a Wally World run for schtuff and food items. (Note to self: Meat at Wal-Mart looks somehow wrong) Back id killing me.  I am back surfing at home for the first time in a long while, our guest bedroom/office is beginning to look like both.  We tossed a metric buttload of packing paper at the dumpster/compacter, so that is was filled to the proverbial brim.  Luckily it rained a little, hopefully knocking it down a bit.  Now I am blissfully eating a Girl Scout&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;...Cookie (Tagalong version), now I need more milk to even out the &lt;b&gt;cookie:milk&lt;/b&gt; ratio some more.  Can't have too much of either.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:92570</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/92570.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=92570"/>
    <title>See Ya!</title>
    <published>2004-03-06T06:53:13Z</published>
    <updated>2004-03-06T06:53:13Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I am shutting down for about a week, partly to prep for the movers, and partly to remove tempation so we can get moving on shit we need to get done today.  Who knows when we will have reliable connectivity again?  Don't go changin, I love you all!  Try the veal, and tip your waiters, we'll be right back after this short break.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:92228</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/92228.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=92228"/>
    <title>unclebill35 @ 2004-03-05T18:16:00</title>
    <published>2004-03-05T15:16:26Z</published>
    <updated>2004-03-05T15:16:26Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I am officially unemployed!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:91960</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/91960.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=91960"/>
    <title>unclebill35 @ 2004-03-03T20:47:00</title>
    <published>2004-03-03T17:47:48Z</published>
    <updated>2004-03-03T17:47:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I feel the need to unplug things, pack up stuff, get ready for the movers, disconnect the stereo and computer.  I have been this way for a few days, even though we don't need to do anything until Saturday.  Nervous energy.  Wanna get OUT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FL is raising the tolls on Sunday, the day we leave.  It will be worth it to pay the extra coin to see Miami in the rear view mirror.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:91694</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/91694.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=91694"/>
    <title>Sleep, perchance to Dream</title>
    <published>2004-03-01T07:41:52Z</published>
    <updated>2004-03-01T07:41:52Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Although not in the way Willie intended, of course.  I have had a lingering cold for a little while, and it got going a bit more over the weekend, what with the hotel airconditioning and all.  Last night, to help lessen the snoring so my beautiful bride may get some rest, I took some nighttime cold medicine.  This stuff used to knock me the crap out but good, but lately I have awoken just buzzing with alertness.  The pseudoephedrine really jacks me up.  I was wide eyed and bushy tailed at about 3:30am.  And 4:00am.  And 4:15am.  I must have dozed off later, because the snoring I was trying to kill woke Lise up and she got up for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may do the sleep study thing that Billdo and e- have done, I think I still have my tonsils, but this snoring has to stop so the future GeoMom can get some rest when the future GeoBaby lets her.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:91563</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/91563.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=91563"/>
    <title>Where da White Wimmin At?</title>
    <published>2004-02-29T17:00:45Z</published>
    <updated>2004-03-01T02:00:43Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Back from Lithonia, on our house hunting trip.  We will be the White People living in Lithonia, I think we will become a landmark of sorts.  "Turn left at the light, then two blocks past where the White People live..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely no tensions, no sideways glances, everyone was sweet as can be (and I can tell the Georgia sweet-as-can-be-then-talk-bad-about-you-when-you-leave from the real thing).  We just didn't see one caucasian at ANY of the apt complexes we look through.  Found a great complex, quiet, 2.5 miles from my work without getting on any major roads, large berooms, great kitchen, washer dryer inside the units, storage room out on large deck, and no whities in sight.  Nice places, but the agent was a few cards short of a deck.  We need 2nd or 3rd floor, 2B/2BA.  The first one she sent us to was on the first floor.  The second was RIGHT next to the playground, the very loud playground.  The third one she sent us to was well positioned, off the ground floor, it was just a one bedroom place.  By this time we had to scoot to the airport, we will select a unit over fax and phone this week.  1000 sqft.  $657/mo.  Sa-WEET price.  We had a message from the movers tonight when we got in, things are moving quickly.  We'll save up some good bucks for a down-payment on a house next year at this low price!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And EVERYONE was so NICE (except for one rabid bitch, but she was moving out) it is SUCH a change from  Miami!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:91247</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/91247.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=91247"/>
    <title>Fun at work</title>
    <published>2004-02-25T18:27:48Z</published>
    <updated>2004-02-25T18:27:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Today I created a folder on our department's network shared drive and copied all of my work-related files to it in case they take my laptop or reformat it or something after I leave, and I deleted the vast majority of my "Favorites" from IE.  I am passing a lots of the customer requests to our new guy, and helping him create his own filing system for specs.  I am copying two or three folks on all of my e-maiI communications, becuase they'll be picking up the slack,  I had my exit interview this morning, and was a bit more blunt than I had anticipated about some things, while still being polite.  The HR guy, a friend of mine, actually thought my boss and I had a great relationship.  I told I thought he (my boss) was a complete twit, but we had a professional working relationship.  One guy asked how I could even talk through that huge grin on my face.  I drive to work in this stupid town only seven more times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very good day.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:90976</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/90976.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=90976"/>
    <title>Spam</title>
    <published>2004-02-24T20:37:18Z</published>
    <updated>2004-02-24T20:37:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I am blissfully not assaulted by spam on my primary home e-mail address, but have been getting an increasing amount on my work addy (the one that will no longer be in use in 8 more working days).  But then there is Juno.  I have had this Juno address for friggin YEARS, like maybe 10 years.  I have not used it as primary in almost that many years, but for some reason keep it active.  Hey, it's free.  I get a weekly e-mail from Military.com at that address, which covers semi-current events with a slant toward Marines (a checkbox I checked, I'm sure).  This gives me an easy timestamp.  I cleared out EVERYTHING from that account a little while back, then as I was clearing some bookmarks tonight, decided to see how much legitimate mail came in since my last check.  10 Military.com e-mails, so 10 weeks had gone by.  237 spams, and two messages from Juno.  The best subject was something about clicking to be able to send e-mail INTERNATIONALLY!  Wow, what progress!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is time I just quit checking that account.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:90471</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/90471.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=90471"/>
    <title>I love it when my cell phone rings at work..</title>
    <published>2004-02-20T11:14:54Z</published>
    <updated>2004-02-20T11:14:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">... because that is the number on my resume.  The General Manager of Weyerhaeuser, Lithonia just called, saying they will be overnighting an offer on Monday, most likely, assuming the Corp Paperwork is done by then.  Honey, don't renew the lease for April, and start packing!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:90194</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/90194.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=90194"/>
    <title>The Power of LiveJournal</title>
    <published>2004-02-19T06:33:50Z</published>
    <updated>2004-02-19T06:33:50Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Lise's check for the Product Merchandising is being mailed today, thank you all for your threatening comments.  I did not even have to resort to threats of physical mutilation, ya'll are so sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Timely, too.  We finally got caught up again financially, except I got a bit TOO much caught up, and that check will pay our insurance this month.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:89877</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/89877.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=89877"/>
    <title>More boring job search</title>
    <published>2004-02-18T06:48:27Z</published>
    <updated>2004-02-18T15:32:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Firstly, Happy Birthday to Fran and Scotti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The HR Mgr for the Barrington plant (outside Philly) called this morning, confirming that they did fill the Superintendent position from within, and apologizing for not calling me about it before.  I knew already from a reliable source, good intel is important.  She asked if I would be interested in a General Supervisor position at another plant in the same area, a 2nd Shift position.  I replied that when I held that position in Buffalo, I was bored silly.  Sure, you make all the decisions for second shift, but all the REAL decisions are made when the sun is up.  It is really babysitting people who know what they are doing.  I said I would not be leaping at that position.  Not to mention the hours make it tough for newlyweds.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:unclebill35:89849</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/89849.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="https://unclebill35.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=89849"/>
    <title>Icon of Doom</title>
    <published>2004-02-17T17:59:59Z</published>
    <updated>2004-02-17T17:59:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So, I put up this new icon this past weekend, and have gotten a few comments on it both good and bad, some undecided.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.livejournal.com/poll/?id=250238"&gt;View Poll: Icon of Doom&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I'll listen to what you have to say, but I am interested</content>
  </entry>
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