<?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-25021191</id><updated>2011-07-28T15:06:42.231-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gina Asks "Why?"</title><subtitle type='html'>The many things that I wonder about in life, the crazy things I see, the things I don't understand, the question why.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-6667856511974963016</id><published>2009-10-10T21:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T21:35:59.244-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why has this year been...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 237px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391150094201223106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/StE2cnetd8I/AAAAAAAAAcA/8hmBbt6IrJM/s320/father_time_flying_past%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;So busy? Seriously, I can't remember a time when I just chilled and relaxed. Even when I'm sick, I still check on things at work. Why? I'm not sure. I am sure that it's not worth it. Thankfully vacation is coming up, and hubby and I don't have much planned. I'm hoping to sleep in, relax and rest my brain. Life goes by too fast to worry about the small stuff. I need to enjoy my time here on earth with my family and friends. Happy fall :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-6667856511974963016?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/6667856511974963016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=6667856511974963016' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/6667856511974963016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/6667856511974963016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2009/10/why-has-this-year-been.html' title='Why has this year been...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/StE2cnetd8I/AAAAAAAAAcA/8hmBbt6IrJM/s72-c/father_time_flying_past%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-1116386647686795483</id><published>2009-05-31T21:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T21:47:12.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why is it that I don't update this blog more...</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure. I'll be catching up soon though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-1116386647686795483?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/1116386647686795483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=1116386647686795483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/1116386647686795483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/1116386647686795483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-is-it-that-i-dont-update-this-blog.html' title='Why is it that I don&apos;t update this blog more...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-6481666868162690885</id><published>2008-08-22T20:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T20:59:09.407-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why does time fly by so fast?</title><content type='html'>Seriously, it's about to be September!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-6481666868162690885?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/6481666868162690885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=6481666868162690885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/6481666868162690885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/6481666868162690885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2008/08/why-does-time-fly-by-so-fast.html' title='Why does time fly by so fast?'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-1116808975901879902</id><published>2008-08-10T19:38:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T20:36:21.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why...</title><content type='html'>This&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FKZH-8uI/AAAAAAAAAUE/L4H8woQjcMs/s1600-h/sand2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233047705617363682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FKZH-8uI/AAAAAAAAAUE/L4H8woQjcMs/s320/sand2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;+this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FKtPHydI/AAAAAAAAAUM/UG5EjQUuuNA/s1600-h/basketball2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233047711016012242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FKtPHydI/AAAAAAAAAUM/UG5EjQUuuNA/s320/basketball2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FK9uWOxI/AAAAAAAAAUU/s2YwkkCIOdQ/s1600-h/IMG_5074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233047715441949458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FK9uWOxI/AAAAAAAAAUU/s2YwkkCIOdQ/s320/IMG_5074.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;= this (a ghetto medicine ball that my husband is too cheap to buy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FLF6pB2I/AAAAAAAAAUc/wGoNHiVlDGA/s1600-h/IMG_5075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233047717640996706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FLF6pB2I/AAAAAAAAAUc/wGoNHiVlDGA/s320/IMG_5075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-1116808975901879902?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/1116808975901879902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=1116808975901879902' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/1116808975901879902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/1116808975901879902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2008/08/why.html' title='Why...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SJ-FKZH-8uI/AAAAAAAAAUE/L4H8woQjcMs/s72-c/sand2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-6703160358339738884</id><published>2008-06-10T22:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T22:31:06.484-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I have to pay...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SE840ZPB3tI/AAAAAAAAAS8/zxBRPLM1RVU/s1600-h/5+k+run.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210445766669229778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SE840ZPB3tI/AAAAAAAAAS8/zxBRPLM1RVU/s320/5+k+run.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So after I ran my first 5 k in December, I'm miracously receiving any and all 5 k related material in Forsyth County. I'm not trying to knock any races for cures, or fundraising events, but I don't understand why I have to pay to run in a race. I would just rather donate money, and be done with it. Who ever thought of that idea for people to pay money to walk or run was a genious. I would like to officially announce that I'm starting the "Gina's Race for Debt" 5 and 10 k run. Please pay $40 dollars to run the streets that you can run at any point and time that you please, but rest assure that the streets will be blocked during this event for your safety during Gina's Debt Run. At any other time, you would normally have to look both ways! However friends, you will not on this day. Although, because it's habit for those of you who walk or run on a regular basis, you will look both ways anyway. But please remember that I told you that you wouldn't have to look both ways! This is an email invitation only!! I won't have any materials to give you with the race title on it to show your friends and family, because....well just look at the title of the race.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-6703160358339738884?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/6703160358339738884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=6703160358339738884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/6703160358339738884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/6703160358339738884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2008/06/why-do-i-have-to-pay.html' title='Why do I have to pay...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SE840ZPB3tI/AAAAAAAAAS8/zxBRPLM1RVU/s72-c/5+k+run.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-9111732500673858667</id><published>2008-06-08T17:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T18:25:17.641-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SExcKtga0ZI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/TeSZsn-E9kk/s1600-h/Gardinia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209640208044839314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SExcKtga0ZI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/TeSZsn-E9kk/s320/Gardinia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I should have kept this quote in mind a few days ago at work, but will definitely remember going forward:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Happiness is a choice...if you make the mistake of allowing your circumstances to dictate your happiness, then you risk missing out on God's abundant life. Being negative and sour isn't going to improve anything either. You might as well choose to be happy and enjoy life!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why am I posting this? I let something bother me at work a few days ago, and although I was cordial, I think that I didn't display myself like I should have. I was very polite and I didn't say anything rude or out of the way, but I believe that I should have just said "I'm happy about what has happened", end of story. My husband gave me that advise. It's so much easier said than done. I can't help but think that saying that would be dishonest, and I do not want to lie about things. It's a hard balance. Well I can't dwell on the past, but I know what I'll do in the future. I won't dwell on silly things or situations, and I'll know that regardless God will always have a plan for me. I will "bloom wherever God places me", regardless of the circumstances. I've lost that about myself, and I'm glad it's not to late to become that person again. Thank you God. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-9111732500673858667?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/9111732500673858667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=9111732500673858667' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/9111732500673858667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/9111732500673858667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2008/06/interesting.html' title='Interesting....'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SExcKtga0ZI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/TeSZsn-E9kk/s72-c/Gardinia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-5082417434255106812</id><published>2008-05-09T07:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T08:02:20.124-04:00</updated><title type='text'>1,2,3,4</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198346340744216274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SCQ8dHOCvtI/AAAAAAAAAQs/w3k2HaW588U/s320/tornado.bmp" border="0" /&gt;Four hours of sleep folks. That's (if that long) is the amount of sleep my husband and I received last night. It was a scary night for our area. Why? We apparently had several tornadoes touch down minutes, literally, from us. That was one of the most scariest nights of my life. At one point, when we thought the tornado was close to our neighborhood. Because we live in a town home, we had to hunker down in our lowest level bathroom, which isn't very roomy. I immediately wondered if I was ready to die. Maybe this sounds a little extreme, but I seriously wondered if I would go into heaven. I know that I have God's forgiveness, but I often don't feel like I'm a "good Christian" so to speak. I thought about all of the things that I could have done differently in life. It was such a relief when the storms passed. However, we realized that we had a minor flood on our kitchen counter! After cleaning that mess, we drove around assessing the damage, after midnight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm really glad that we, and our family and friends are safe. I think this was a very awakening experience for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-5082417434255106812?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/5082417434255106812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=5082417434255106812' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/5082417434255106812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/5082417434255106812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2008/05/1234.html' title='1,2,3,4'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SCQ8dHOCvtI/AAAAAAAAAQs/w3k2HaW588U/s72-c/tornado.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-8580352906424943499</id><published>2008-05-04T21:32:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T22:57:10.314-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I doubt...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SB507iwN_qI/AAAAAAAAAQc/K8Rn7S4O97g/s1600-h/Self+confidence.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196719586322284194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SB507iwN_qI/AAAAAAAAAQc/K8Rn7S4O97g/s320/Self+confidence.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;my abilities with my job or anything else in life. On Friday, I talked to my supervisor who I hadn't seen much during the week. I needed to talk with her so that when I saw her for a quick minute, I said to her "You need to stay in this office for at least an hour!" I have an absolutely wonderful supervisor that I can, what I call, "talk smack" to. With few details, she is giving me the experiences that I need to get ahead in my HR/recruitment/PR career. Anyway, she sat aside a few minutes for me on Friday so that I could to talk to her about work and personal things about work. After we talked about everything, I was leaving her office and she says "oh, I need to talk to you about something." It was said with a long sigh and I assumed the worst. This has usually been something like "others in this office don't believe that we are going to do well with..." and we, as a team, have proved them wrong with our recruitment efforts every time. Anyway, she paused for the longest time and told me that she wanted me to take over and head a major recruitment event at a college in town for the 2008-2009 school year! This would include me supervising the part-time position over at the college who helps with recruitment for our organization, but she would still officially be the supervisor to that position. I was absolutely shocked because we both hold high standards for our organizations recruitment efforts, and this isn't an easy project by any means. She said that she has spoken with the CEO of our organization and my former supervisor, who both thought that it was a great idea. The CEO asked my supervisor if I could handle it, and her response was "We wouldn't talk about this at all if I didn't." I had to pick my jaw up off of the floor. I have so little confidence in what I do, but I always do a great job and my supervisor often seems to know my abilities more than I do. I also receive the best compliments from my peers, but it's still hard for me to believe in myself. Anyhow, my supervisor told me that she knows my abilities, and knows that I can handle it. She told me to think about it as long as I needed because it will be a major change in my job and my responsibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Because of Friday, I've thought more about the lack of self confidence that I continue to have in myself, the fact that every time someone says something positive about me I shoot it down with a negative comment about myself, and the need to feel like I have to make sure people like me. I've been struggling with my confidence for a while. I don't feel pretty, I'm not a size 0, I'm not in the position or making the money that I should be for being close to 29 years old, and so on. But, this year, I've really tried concentrating on what God has done for me in my life. I've never been told I'm ugly and think I look nice often. My supervisor even told me that she wished she could dress like me. I will never be a size 0 and I personally don't want to be. And no, I'm not making the money that I want to be. But,the position that I'm in, in particular, has been the biggest blessing for me. It allows me to take advantage of learning so many different areas of recruitment and allows me to make mistakes to learn and grow in my abilities. There are so many petty things that I used to think about, like people who sometimes make me dread going to work to see their face, the low pay that I receive or the lack of promotion in the company. However, I've always wanted to work with children, but in a non-teaching environment. After I worked for county government in the HR department, I knew that I wanted to work with recruitment. I wanted a laid back environment and a great supervisor who I could talk to and learn from. Last month, I realized that God has blessed me with that. When you complain and dwell in self pity, you can't see the BS you complain about. It is so much more enjoyable going to work worrying only about my job and how to make the best of it. Like my husband told me, "Only if the lack of someone's work or their behavior affects your job, that's when you need to worry about it. Otherwise, you can't worry about anyone else but you." Amazingly, this has helped with my confidence and my abilities with my job and personal life. I no longer worry about making sure I'm liked by work or personal acquaintances and I don't worry about what anyone, other than my supervisor, thinks about my work. Obviously, I'm doing well, and my confidence should reflect it. I'm not sure if I or anyone ever reaches the confidence level they should have for themselves, but I'm enjoying trying to get to that level. The road to self confidence...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-8580352906424943499?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/8580352906424943499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=8580352906424943499' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/8580352906424943499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/8580352906424943499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2008/05/why-do-i-doubt.html' title='Why do I doubt...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SB507iwN_qI/AAAAAAAAAQc/K8Rn7S4O97g/s72-c/Self+confidence.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-8473113201684952509</id><published>2008-04-24T20:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T21:32:28.995-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain drops...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SBEzEiwN_pI/AAAAAAAAAQU/u-HlmpBiaqU/s1600-h/Raindrops.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192987998476435090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SBEzEiwN_pI/AAAAAAAAAQU/u-HlmpBiaqU/s320/Raindrops.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Tuesday, I went to a local high school to view a documentary called &lt;a href="http://www.mattiecstewart.org/"&gt;InsideOut, by the Mattie C. Stewart Foundation&lt;/a&gt;. The documentary is being used to address drop out rates within our schools. The organization that I work for is partnering with the high school where this documentary was shown. Currently, this school has the lowest drop out rate in our county. The documentary presented a look into inmates lives, who mostly are serving life sentences without the possibility of parol. The inmates interviewed express regrets because they did not complete their education. Those interviewed said that if they finished high school, at least, they would not be in prison. It was gripping for me as an adult. The documentary had very few young adults shown, something that I thought would grasp the attention of teenagers more. However; it was interesting to see inmates who have served 19 + years, who were incarserated in the early 20s, and to hear them only imagine what could have been of their lives. If this is shown in our city/county schools, I hope that it speaks to our students. Drop out rates have been an issue since way before our time, as pointed out by the presenter, who showed quotes from presidents more than 60 years back. That's a scary thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was one quote that has stayed with me from the documentary. This quote from an inmate has made me realize how I thank God for the biggies in life, but not the everyday small things. An inmate said "I can't stand out in the rain if I want to. Just to feel the rain all over me." I have never thought about how much of a blessing it is to feel rain drops. Think about from an inmates stand point.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-8473113201684952509?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/8473113201684952509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=8473113201684952509' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/8473113201684952509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/8473113201684952509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2008/04/rain-drops.html' title='Rain drops...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/SBEzEiwN_pI/AAAAAAAAAQU/u-HlmpBiaqU/s72-c/Raindrops.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-2724139746268132008</id><published>2008-04-02T21:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T21:38:45.635-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R_Q0vk0JClI/AAAAAAAAAPk/aOGQHIJxDuM/s1600-h/Canon+powershot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184827062951152210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R_Q0vk0JClI/AAAAAAAAAPk/aOGQHIJxDuM/s320/Canon+powershot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Have I not posted on here lately? Check out my new blog, &lt;a href="http://ginasphoto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Gina's Photo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I love taking pictures and wanted to post them. I'm also taking a class this week to enhance my photo taking skillzzzz. This is my camera that I got for Christmas.  It is my little baby and is the best camera ever!  I hope you likey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-2724139746268132008?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/2724139746268132008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=2724139746268132008' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/2724139746268132008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/2724139746268132008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2008/04/why.html' title='Why...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R_Q0vk0JClI/AAAAAAAAAPk/aOGQHIJxDuM/s72-c/Canon+powershot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-8337887495460427704</id><published>2007-11-25T21:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T21:54:49.878-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why is customer service really dead...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R0o0QMB92mI/AAAAAAAAABI/dHzmK0PUe90/s1600-h/snacks_and_dessert_RowPar_0002_ContentPar_0001_ColumnPar_0003_Image.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136975777681496674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R0o0QMB92mI/AAAAAAAAABI/dHzmK0PUe90/s320/snacks_and_dessert_RowPar_0002_ContentPar_0001_ColumnPar_0003_Image.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So we were at McDonald's the other day ordering McFlurries. I placed my order, an Oreo McFlurry, to the cashier. We had a coupon (women "b" shoppin) for a free McFlurry and I gave it to her after my order. My hubby was going to order his McFlurry, but she looked at the coupon and walked off. Eventually it was obvious that she didn't know how to put the coupon in. She didn't say excuse me for a sec or I'll be right back, she just flat out left! Eventually, a manager comes over with the worst look on her face. I'm expecting something from her like "I'm sorry for your wait or I'm sorry, we don't take this coupon", but instead she tried to put the coupon in.  The manager then gives an ugly look and says "You gotta buy anova McFlurry fo dis coupon". I wanted to say "We know that, but your employee walked off and we didn't know what the heck was going on!" Instead, my hubby just placed his order for his McFlurry. The original cashier then made our orders, handed them to us and walked away. No thank you...come back to see us again, nothing! I can't believe that employees are no longer polite. A simple "excuse me or thank you" could go such a long way with a customer. &lt;a href="http://customerserviceisdead.blogspot.com/"&gt;Customer service is really dead&lt;/a&gt;!&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/25021191-8337887495460427704?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/8337887495460427704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=8337887495460427704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/8337887495460427704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/8337887495460427704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2007/11/why-is-customer-service-really-dead.html' title='Why is customer service really dead...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R0o0QMB92mI/AAAAAAAAABI/dHzmK0PUe90/s72-c/snacks_and_dessert_RowPar_0002_ContentPar_0001_ColumnPar_0003_Image.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-8778689436800350391</id><published>2007-11-18T20:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T20:26:44.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The 7th time is the charm...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R0DlNcB92lI/AAAAAAAAABA/USuEObqDXCM/s1600-h/animal+stamps.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134355594227866194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R0DlNcB92lI/AAAAAAAAABA/USuEObqDXCM/s320/animal+stamps.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Why did it take 7 different stops (3 post offices, 1 gas station, 1 grocery store and 2 Walgreens) to get stamps today????? I kid you not, my husband and I went to all of the above to buy 3 stamps! All of the post offices were out of stamps (figure that out), the grocery store ran out, 1 Walgreens store didn't have them in yet and our last stop, another Walgreens had them! We had to buy a book of them instead of three, but boy were we excited. Has anyone ever written a complaint letter to the post office? I'm sure thinking about it. How can 3 different post offices throughout the city not have stamps? I would definitely make the letter anonymous though...I want to get my bills, I also want to mail them off dang it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-8778689436800350391?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/8778689436800350391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=8778689436800350391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/8778689436800350391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/8778689436800350391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2007/11/7th-time-is-charm.html' title='The 7th time is the charm...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/R0DlNcB92lI/AAAAAAAAABA/USuEObqDXCM/s72-c/animal+stamps.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-5932277512920852099</id><published>2007-11-16T18:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T18:29:18.518-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why can't I believe it...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133584127907191346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/Rz4nkMB92jI/AAAAAAAAAAw/ZtIhr8KDGXk/s320/female+runner.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I ran a full mile, without stopping and without being too tired. I made today my goal date for running 1 mile. I actually did it on Monday, but I was hoping to beat my time today. I didn't beat it, but that doesn't matter to me. My new goal is 3 miles by February 16th!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-5932277512920852099?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/5932277512920852099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=5932277512920852099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/5932277512920852099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/5932277512920852099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2007/11/why-cant-i-believe-it.html' title='Why can&apos;t I believe it...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/Rz4nkMB92jI/AAAAAAAAAAw/ZtIhr8KDGXk/s72-c/female+runner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-6168213250254790857</id><published>2007-11-04T17:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T23:24:43.587-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why did it take so long...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/Ry5YKp7clPI/AAAAAAAAAAo/h_juF4-hCxE/s1600-h/YMCA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129133965698700530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/Ry5YKp7clPI/AAAAAAAAAAo/h_juF4-hCxE/s320/YMCA.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; For it to click in my brain...My weight is my problem and it has to be my solution. I have read so many books, looked at so many websites and tried so many diets to lose weight. In October 2006, during our anniversary trip, I promised myself that I would exercise more and I would not be the same person next year. Surprisingly, I kept that promise and I've exercised consistently for one year! Unfortunately, I didn't do the same with food. I gained lots of muscle and I'm much more fit than I was last year, but I still only kept off around 3-5 pounds. For the past 2 years, I have said that I'm trying to lose weight, all the while not doing much to lose it. I've tried to get my husband and a couple of my &lt;em&gt;friends&lt;/em&gt; who needed to lose weight to work out and diet with me, but it would hardly work. I really felt like I was alone! My coworkers, who are great, but do not have weight problems, exercised with me and would try to support me with changing my eating habits. My last attempt was when I tried to get a &lt;em&gt;friend &lt;/em&gt;to support me and to exercise with me and this person never came through for me. I really realized then, after some serious prayer, soul searching and chats with the hubby, that my weight was my problem and it had to be my solution.  I knew that I was consistent with exercise, so in August I vowed to myself to do the same with eating healthy and losing weight. In September, my coworker told me about an opportunity at our local YMCA. It was a weight loss competition. You had to submit an essay about why you should be in the program, get a doctor's note to participate and you had to be selected based on your essay. Guess what, I was picked, along with a coworker who had just had a baby! We were so excited! This program has changed my life and has opened my eyes to so many things! I'm a part of a team that is very supportive. I know now who truly supports me and is there for me with my struggles. I've lost almost 10 pounds in 1 month (although this week I gained back a couple) and I feel great. I've started running, which is something I've wanted to do forever.  My husband is working out more and eating healthier also. Next October will be my milestone for keeping my weight off! I've lost 14% of my weight goal. I'll be updating my results from the program periodically! It ends on January 29th and we have several check in dates.  Wish me the best, I know this time I'm going to make it :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-6168213250254790857?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/6168213250254790857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=6168213250254790857' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/6168213250254790857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/6168213250254790857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2007/11/why-did-it-take-so-long.html' title='Why did it take so long...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/Ry5YKp7clPI/AAAAAAAAAAo/h_juF4-hCxE/s72-c/YMCA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-973935723858758408</id><published>2007-06-24T00:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T00:58:04.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why does time fly by so quickly...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/Rn35lBKH_TI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BFckK8cMA_o/s1600-h/Children+playing.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079490369105165618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/Rn35lBKH_TI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BFckK8cMA_o/s320/Children+playing.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm not talking about the time that has passed since I've updated this blog. For some reason tonight, I'm thinking of all of the years that I can remember or barely remember about my life. I remember thinking that I couldn't wait until I turn 10, 13, 18 and 21 years old. I don't really know why I picked those certain ages, but I do know that nothing significant happened at those ages. It's amazing how you wish and hope your years away, only to wish that you could have those years back for whatever reasons. Now I'm almost 30 and I can't remember what being 25 felt like and I certainly don't remember what I was doing at age 10! I pick on some friends of mine for having so many pictures or childhood memories that I sometimes feel are worthless, but I really wish my family saved things from my childhood for me to remember. I recently decided that I'm going to start scrapbooking, taking more pictures or whatever I can do to remember things about my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-973935723858758408?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/973935723858758408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=973935723858758408' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/973935723858758408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/973935723858758408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2007/06/why-does-time-fly-by-so-quickly.html' title='Why does time fly by so quickly...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OfrsBNXGnrM/Rn35lBKH_TI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BFckK8cMA_o/s72-c/Children+playing.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-116519856198549665</id><published>2006-12-03T20:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T21:21:36.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My goodness people, I thought we were done with this style...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3626/1643/320/685831/jheri%20curls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Why did I see someone rocking a fresh Jheri curl in 2006? Do they still sell Jheri curl products? I'm serious, I didn't know that places still sold Jheri curl products!!! I went to get lunch one day and I recognized that unforgetable scent of fresh jheri curl juice. I looked around thinking "that possibly can't be", when I spotted it, a fresh jheri curl on this lady in line. It was a tight Jheri curl too and I don't mean tight as in nice. Can you remember back in the 80's when people got the fresh Jheri curl and it was all shiny and you can see where they parted the hair to put the rollers? Someone's hair could be down to their shoulders but because of a Jheri curl it was like a small curly afro. That's how it was! I wanted to tap her on the shoulder and ask " Who still does Jheri curls around here"? I wish I had so I could go to that person's house and smack them for still doing Jheri curls. I would rather see a big afro anyday than to see some juicy jheri curl in 2006! I hope she had leather seats in her car and at home because jheri curls used to leave some serious marks on furniture (lol)! Yall remember Coming to America and if you don't, rent it, you tube it or whatever just to see what I'm talking about. My day was messed up after that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-116519856198549665?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/116519856198549665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=116519856198549665' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116519856198549665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116519856198549665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/12/my-goodness-people-i-thought-we-were.html' title='My goodness people, I thought we were done with this style...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-116301726464896528</id><published>2006-11-08T15:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T15:32:26.066-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So many older drivers scare me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/320/elderly%20driver.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Why can't we stop renewing licenses at a certain age? Have you ever driven behind or beside an older driver? I guess I won't call out certain ages for fear of offending my older audience (yeah right), but some of these drivers can be scary. Last week, I was behind what I will call "The right side drifter." This elderly driver seemed to get pulled to the right by an imaginary huge car magnet or something and would jerk to the left very hard and quickly, resulting in some serious swirving action. It reminded me of an old movie where the driver would try to drive off of a cliff, but the passenger would jerk the wheel in the opposite direction so that they would not make that fatal mistake. It was scaring the you know what out of me for the cars coming from the opposite direction. Then there's another driver that I will call "I'm braking for that cat that just ran across the street or for that stop light that's 10 miles away." No matter how far back you are from them, it's dangerous!!! Why are you breaking so frequently, so hard, why? The last type of elderly driver I will call "What stop sign, what red light, what's a 4 way stop?" Have you ever seen an elderly driver not look at all if and when they stop at a stop sign or a 4 way stop. They just look straight ahead. Maybe they do a little count in their head (1...2...3...go) and just step on the gas. I don't know. And a stop light, if they do stop, it's because someone is in front of them that has stopped or they are in the middle of the intersection when the light is red. The worst are the ones who frequently drive going in the wrong direction. I have heard of 2 accidents recently resulting in death due to this and both involved a confused elderly driver. I think that after we hit a certain age, we should get tested every year instead of every 5 years. What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-116301726464896528?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/116301726464896528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=116301726464896528' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116301726464896528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116301726464896528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/11/so-many-older-drivers-scare-me.html' title='So many older drivers scare me...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-116157211241822960</id><published>2006-10-22T22:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T22:55:12.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The beach was beautiful...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/1600/i.costaricabeach.sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/320/i.costaricabeach.sm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But why do we tend to wait until vacation to relax? I know this may seem like a dumb question, but I really wonder that about myself. This week was our anniversary week. It's been 3 years and counting married to my wonderful husband. We went to the beach for our celebration and had a wonderful time. The weather was great! Anyway, Friday we discovered a remote part of the beach with no hotels or beach houses on it. We decided to go there and sit on the beach for a while. We laid some beach towels out, and relaxed on the beach for 3 hours. This was the first time in what seemed like forever that I relaxed. I just enjoyed the scenery. The bright sun, the sound of the water, the quiet time with my husband, the birds, I just laid wondering how God created something so beautiful. I also wondered why I didn't take time to relax more often. It shouldn't have to be out of town, although it is easier to be away from home and people that you know. I would love to feel everyday what I felt on the beach last Friday. On Friday I decided to take more time to enjoy life and relax more. Life is too short to not enjoy at least part of it. Don't you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-116157211241822960?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/116157211241822960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=116157211241822960' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116157211241822960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116157211241822960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/10/beach-was-beautiful.html' title='The beach was beautiful...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-116105664769662862</id><published>2006-10-16T23:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T23:44:07.713-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Saturn...Sorry this is so long...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/1600/saturn_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/320/saturn_logo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Why is your service going down hill? My lovely Saturn dealership moved recently to a Flow Auto Plaza extravaganza!!! The service has sucked sooooo bad ever since. Today, I take my lovely Saturn to get some routine work done on the car. Here's how that went at 8:20 am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech: How can I help you.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Good morning, I need to get my inspection and an oil change.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Do you have an appointment.&lt;br /&gt;Me: No I don't.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Ok, just give me a sec.&lt;br /&gt;Sec: Tick tock, tick tock.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Ok, you want an oil change and tire rotation.&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, an oil change and an inspection.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Ok, do you have an appointment.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thinking (Am I having a memory lapse or did I just tell him this)...No I don't have&lt;br /&gt;Tech: That's right, you don't have an appointment. Pull your car around.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Pulled it up and back to the tech.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Writes down oil change, but not inspection, let me check your warranty info.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thinking (Why is he checking my warranty info, I don't get free services).&lt;br /&gt;Tech: You are not due for a while...Maybe about 1 month.&lt;br /&gt;Me: We are going on a trip and I would like to have it done early.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Ok. Looks like you take good care of it, you bring it in on time every time. &lt;strong&gt;*this is important to recall folks* &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yep.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: No warranty locks. Ok, I just need your keys and we'll be ready to go. It will take about 2 hours.&lt;br /&gt;Me: My husband is going to bring me back.&lt;br /&gt;Husband: Did he get the inspection on there?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you put the inspection down?&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Oh, I just didn't write it down, but I remembered. Oh, I'll need your registration.&lt;br /&gt;Me: After digging in my car, found it and handed it to him.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Do you want me to call you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes and could you please make sure they do a courtesy wash this time. They haven't done it with the last few services I've had.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: It says it has been done in the computer.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I understand what it says, but it hasn't been done.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: We'll have her clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12:30 I call and say hi, I wanted to know if my car is ready. The tech says" Yeah, it's ready. Wait no it's not. Oh I'm sorry, it is." Where was my call folks? Where was my call? Get there and the tech says "Let me explain everything on this statement." Explains and then says "You had low oil, do you bring it here for service?" Remember where I said this is important folks? Didn't he tell me this morning that I bring it in on time every time? Yes, he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes I do bring it in every single time on time.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Oh&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did they see a reason why it would be low.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: No, especially not with a newer car.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did they seem to be concerned about it being low.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Ummm, Iiii don't know, it's the darndest thing.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Can you fill out this survey.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Filling out the survey in front of him. Didn't check the box where it asks if the tech asked you about transportation.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: I did ask you about transportation, I said...&lt;br /&gt;Me: NO, you said it will take 2 hours and I said that my husband would be bringing me back.&lt;br /&gt;Tech: Oh, yeah that's right. Have a good day and please let us know if you are not completely satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not be going back to this Saturn dealership unless I have to. How can you not tell me why my oil was low. Why did you ask me if I had an appointment 3 separate times? Why didn't you call me like you said you would? This is my 4th time at the Saturn dealership since they have moved and it is getting worse with each visit. I will be taking my business elsewhere to another Saturn dealership.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-116105664769662862?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/116105664769662862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=116105664769662862' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116105664769662862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116105664769662862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/10/oh-saturnsorry-this-is-so-long.html' title='Oh Saturn...Sorry this is so long...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-116076988414513957</id><published>2006-10-13T15:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:39:40.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm still alive folks and I'm wondering...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/320/Dilbert.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Why do some coworkers just get on your nerves? I love my new job, but it seems like there is always one person who'll just get under your skin every time. This person is young, fresh out of college and is as naive as a 3 year old. It doesn't matter if I'm on the phone, talking to someone in my office or clearly busy, she will just walk in and stand in my doorway or join in with the conversation. She may even choose to sit down for a while. I can flash her an ugly look and it doesn't matter, she still thinks it's ok to barge in. I was on the phone for almost 10 minutes one time and she sat in my office until I was off just to talk to me about her back hurting. What the heck??? One time I was having my weekly meeting with my supervisor and she yells across the hallway about something that I had just said. I yelled back to her "How did you get in this conversation?" I'll have a conversation with another coworker and she'll walk in, sit down and listen. We stop talking every time and she just doesn't get it. Which leads to another point I have to make about her. She's in everyone's office so much throughout the day that she works late everyday to catch up(I'm sure she looks like the good little worker). At the end of every single day, she's making it known that she needs to work late to finish this or that. I want to say "Only because you don't do any work during the day!!!" On top of all of this, she likes to brag about being a hoochie! I called her that one day and she said "that's what the guys from the football team call me." I just can't stand her! I usually can tell coworkers in a nice or jokingly way when they are irritating me, but I can't with her. What should I do besides pray for her? I don't know...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-116076988414513957?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/116076988414513957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=116076988414513957' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116076988414513957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/116076988414513957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-still-alive-folks-and-im-wondering.html' title='I&apos;m still alive folks and I&apos;m wondering...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-115431701290996842</id><published>2006-07-30T23:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-30T23:36:52.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why variety...</title><content type='html'>Why is it 11:20 and I'm still sitting underneath the dryer waiting for my hair to dry?  Why, oh why, is the show &lt;em&gt;America's Got Talent &lt;/em&gt;still on?  I'm embarrased if other countries really think that we call those things talents! Why did I pig out so much tonight?  I am trying to lose weight!  Why does life change so much after the age of 25?  Why do I watch HGTV so much?  I love that channel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-115431701290996842?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/115431701290996842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=115431701290996842' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115431701290996842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115431701290996842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/07/why-variety.html' title='Why variety...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-115341271869301882</id><published>2006-07-20T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T12:25:18.773-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Aside from why, but not really...</title><content type='html'>I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about friendships. When you go through rough times, you really realize who your friends truly are. There are people who say that they care about you but they could really care less. I understand that people have their own lives, families and situations to deal with but a true friend will still be there for you and care about you through it all. This brings me to my why question. Even in my late 20s, why am I still so naive about who my friends really are? My husband and I've had this conversation for the 8 years that we have been together. I trust people and try to be the best friend that I can be to those who could really give a ?#@* about me and how I am. We were talking one night about someone who I called a friend and he asked me "How can you call someone a friend and not have anything good to say about them?" That has been at least 2 months ago and I have yet to think about a positive aspect about that person. Maybe I'm harsh...I don't know. I call to check on my friends to see how they are, if they need help with anything, see if they want hang out or need to talk when they are stressed or going through difficult times and just be there for them any way I can. I can count on 1 hand (and half of that) the number of friends who are there for me like that. It's sad to think that only recently (within the last year) I have recognized what a true friend really is, but still fool with people who really aren't worth my time and energy. I think I try to be nice and I don't know why. For some reason this has been on my mind a lot and recently I've decided to drop these people out of my life. I will still pray for them and their families, but could care less about their so-called friendship.  I wish that I could list them, but I'm not that mean :-)  My honey should be so proud of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-115341271869301882?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/115341271869301882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=115341271869301882' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115341271869301882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115341271869301882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/07/aside-from-why-but-not-really.html' title='Aside from why, but not really...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-115233346221419886</id><published>2006-07-08T00:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T21:45:41.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If I see another person with one of these on their ear...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/1600/Cell%20ear%20piece.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/320/Cell%20ear%20piece.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Why do people wear these stupid ear pieces when they are not using them? WHYYYYY? It's not cute and it's not cool people. These are for people who actually are on the phone constantly or for people driving who do not want to fumble around with their phones. They are not for people to just sit there with it on their ear all day waiting for the one phone call that they get from their husband, wife, boyfriend etc. If you insist on wearing it anyway, at least get an up to date one. Don't be like this gentleman in the picture who is wearing the Wendy's drive through headset!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-115233346221419886?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/115233346221419886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=115233346221419886' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115233346221419886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115233346221419886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/07/if-i-see-another-person-with-one-of.html' title='If I see another person with one of these on their ear...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-115213415914176554</id><published>2006-07-05T17:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T17:28:11.066-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm getting tired of the race card...</title><content type='html'>Why do some people always play the race card when they don't get a promotion at work? Currently I'm working part-time for a retail store while I find something full-time. That being said, and I don't know why I felt the need to say it, I work with someone who complains all day long about a supervisory position that she didn't get and feels that it should have been hers (is that sentence too long?). This woman talks about our supervisor all day long and how she should not have that title. She doesn't understand why she has been working in customer service for 6 years and they didn't offer her the position. She's always saying that it's because our supervisor is white and they don't want any black people in a supervisor position. That makes me so angry because she can't see for herself that she is GHETTO! We are responsible for returns and she never explains things to customers, she talks over them when they are trying to explain something, she talks to other coworkers about everything but work related issues in front of the customers and so much more. She sings Jaime Fox' songs and talks about how it is her baby daddy in front of customers. If she didn't say things like "Dees people over der can help u cause we don't do dat at dis counta" maybe she would have received the promotion. If a person can't speak clearly in a position that expects them to explain policies and assist customers with returns, they definitely shouldn't be a supervisor. The black and white excuse is sooooo old. Of course I think racism exists in the workplace, but people need to take a long, hard look at themselves before thinking the color of their skin is the reason why they can't move up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-115213415914176554?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/115213415914176554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=115213415914176554' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115213415914176554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115213415914176554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-getting-tired-of-race-card.html' title='I&apos;m getting tired of the race card...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-115016703347617937</id><published>2006-06-12T22:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T23:26:56.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This one's for the girls.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/1600/bad%20fitting.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/200/bad%20fitting.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ladies, why do some of us wear bras that do not provide the best fit? Yes it is the summer time, so of course we are wearing snug, thinner material shirts, tanks and etc. Some of us, including myself, should not wear these items, but at least when I do wear snug shirts, my boobs are fully covered. I'm getting so sick of seeing women who should know by now what size bra and cup fits them properly jiggling with every step, laugh, sneeze and any other action that causes jiggling to occur! I'm definitely not gay, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I notice this horrible epidemic. I'm pleading with women across the world; please stop the madness, go to the nearest ladies undergarments store and let the experts measure you for the proper fit. For extra security, bring along your tightest fitting shirt and take your steps, laugh, sneeze and any other action that you see fit to make sure that the jiggling top spillage of your boobs have disappeared forever!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-115016703347617937?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/115016703347617937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=115016703347617937' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115016703347617937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/115016703347617937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/06/this-ones-for-girls.html' title='This one&apos;s for the girls.....'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-114826914365999765</id><published>2006-05-21T23:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-21T23:39:03.673-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If you are going through the drive thru of a fast food restaurant...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/1600/cell_driving%20photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/320/cell_driving%20photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Why would you stay on your cell phone? I went to my local Taco Bell to get a "fill me up with gas" chili burrito one day. I decided to sit in the parking lot, facing the drive thru, to eat it. I saw not one or two, but three women on their cell phones while in the drive thru. The worst of the three was a lady who had her window up while she was on the cell phone in front of the speaker where you place your order. She sat there for at least a minute! When she finally finished the conversation that couldn't wait while she should have been placing her order, she rolled down her window and yelled out "hello" several times to the order taker. I couldn't believe it. Even worse, I couldn't believe that I didn't take advantage of my fancy phone that could have recorded or taken a picture of this happening. It's really ridiculous that people can't put down a phone while doing things like checking out at the grocery store or retail store, but the drive thru just takes the cake with me. Come on ladies, we can't possibly have that much to talk about. I say ladies because I didn't seen any of the men who went through the drive thru talking on the phone. Sad, just sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-114826914365999765?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/114826914365999765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=114826914365999765' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114826914365999765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114826914365999765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/05/if-you-are-going-through-drive-thru-of.html' title='If you are going through the drive thru of a fast food restaurant...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-114645114443702043</id><published>2006-04-30T22:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-30T22:39:04.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am upset with all of my friends and family...</title><content type='html'>Why hasn't someone addressed me about being a sentence finisher? I recently realized that I had this bad habit. Would you like to know when I realized this? After an interview that I had with a company. Hmmm, wonder why I didn't get the job? Actually, it wasn't one of those type of sentence finishing moments where I just interrupted the person speaking. It was as if they were searching for a way to describe a part of the job and I interjected. However, I do notice that when I'm speaking with my husband, I finish his sentences and I now realize that I do this to my friends to. So again, I am upset with you all. For only 3 easy monthly installments of $33.99, you can be forgiven by me. Please make the check payable to Gina asks "Why" general fund. With each payment sent, I will send you a piece of paper. The first "I", the second "forgive" and the third "you". This won't be just any paper, this will be fancy resume paper, since that is what I use quite a bit these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-114645114443702043?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/114645114443702043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=114645114443702043' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114645114443702043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114645114443702043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-am-upset-with-all-of-my-friends-and.html' title='I am upset with all of my friends and family...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-114580725746449655</id><published>2006-04-23T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T11:47:37.473-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Taken from my husband's newest obsession....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/1600/runner2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/320/runner2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are people walking or running on busy streets instead of doing so on the sidewalk? Now for those serious people who may post something like "In our neighborhood there are no sidewalks" look at the picture! That does not apply here. Now I have heard people say that sidewalks are lumpy and bumpy and may cause injury, but aren't streets the same. Wouldn't you much rather risk not getting hit by crazy people like my husband and do your activity on the sidewalk? Maybe there is a new trend of fear going around where people think that the chance of getting hit by cars coming out of the driveway are far greater than getting hit by cars on the street. Hmmmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-114580725746449655?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/114580725746449655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=114580725746449655' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114580725746449655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114580725746449655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/04/taken-from-my-husbands-newest.html' title='Taken from my husband&apos;s newest obsession....'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-114545219364954359</id><published>2006-04-19T09:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T07:59:13.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I watched Fit TV recently and wondered...</title><content type='html'>Why are many dieticians overweight? Shouldn't they practice what they preach, especially to make people think that what ever advise they are giving will actually work? This thought came to mind when I was watching a show called The Gym. I believe that dieticians should be like trainers. If I go to a gym to seek help and advise from a trainer, I don't expect to meet with an overweight person who has no visible muscle. With that said, there was a dietician on a show that followed The Gym that was very obese. This is not the first time where I've watched a health show they showed an obese dietician. I don't understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-114545219364954359?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/114545219364954359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=114545219364954359' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114545219364954359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114545219364954359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-watched-fit-tv-recently-and-wondered.html' title='I watched Fit TV recently and wondered...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-114459502376496888</id><published>2006-04-09T10:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-09T13:38:35.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The other day, my husband and I wondered</title><content type='html'>Why is it that the Chinese restaurants never mess up orders like our lovely American restaurants? We thought about this as we were ordering food our food. I can honestly say that I have always gotten what I ordered from a Chinese restaurant, nothing more and nothing less. Unlike Wendys or McDonalds where many times we've ordered one thing and have come home with something totally different. Think about it, have you ever had your order messed up in a Chinese restaurant? I think not, and thinking that your chicken fried rice really isn't chicken does not count!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-114459502376496888?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/114459502376496888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=114459502376496888' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114459502376496888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114459502376496888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/04/other-day-my-husband-and-i-wondered_09.html' title='The other day, my husband and I wondered'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-114385460838562184</id><published>2006-03-31T19:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T20:23:28.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>May I please ask...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/1600/1_21_033106_immprotest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3626/1643/320/1_21_033106_immprotest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are so many people protesting the Immigration Bill? Don't we want people to stop coming here illegally? Are these people protesting because they want people to sneak into the borders? Huh? Can someone explain this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-114385460838562184?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/114385460838562184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=114385460838562184' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114385460838562184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114385460838562184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/03/may-i-please-ask.html' title='May I please ask...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-114368623052469691</id><published>2006-03-29T21:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T21:38:21.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back by popular demand...</title><content type='html'>Gina asks "why". This started on my husband's website. I thought it was a good idea, and I guess more people liked it than what I thought. Anyway, this will be a blog about some of the many things I wonder "why" about. Enjoy and feel free to send your questions and/or ideas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-114368623052469691?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/114368623052469691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=114368623052469691' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114368623052469691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114368623052469691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/03/back-by-popular-demand_29.html' title='Back by popular demand...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25021191.post-114368619226332567</id><published>2006-03-29T21:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T21:38:58.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Please tell me...</title><content type='html'>Why did American Idol have Shakira perform? Can we please vote on her singing skills? One thing we can definitely say about her, she can definitely belly dance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25021191-114368619226332567?l=ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/feeds/114368619226332567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=25021191&amp;postID=114368619226332567' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114368619226332567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/25021191/posts/default/114368619226332567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ginaaskswhy.blogspot.com/2006/03/please-tell-me_29.html' title='Please tell me...'/><author><name>Gina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08143481600128479194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
