<?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-6168821361169866392</id><updated>2011-08-01T13:09:32.190-07:00</updated><category term='rude people'/><category term='pie'/><category term='job'/><category term='dislike angry'/><category term='dislike angry babies words baby word'/><category term='dead end'/><category term='bad'/><category term='dislike'/><category term='religion'/><category term='holiday'/><category term='like'/><category term='hate'/><category term='crappy'/><category term='church folk'/><category term='rudeness'/><title type='text'>Lena's blog of random tastes</title><subtitle type='html'>If you don't care what I think about don't bother reading this. This is a blog, a internet soapbox meant for senseless, minuscule ramblings which is exactly what I intend to do.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168821361169866392.post-7607421460874409557</id><published>2010-04-03T11:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T12:08:00.606-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crappy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead end'/><title type='text'>What makes a job untolerable?</title><content type='html'>What is it that defines a 'dead end' or crappy job?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me it's one or more of the following things.&lt;br /&gt;1. Low Wages. Minimum wage is not a living wage. It has a long way to go before workers can live adequately making minimum or just above minimum. Depending on where you live and your living situation, the lowest base salary needed to pay for bare essentials is $10 a hour. You can survive to a point making less than, but if an emergency happens you're screwed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. No additional benefits/incentives/rewards. What do you get out of your job? Just a hourly wage? With no healthcare offered, vacation pay, holiday pay, overtime pay, sick leave, maternity leave, annual bonues or comission pay what is there to look forward to after a day of hard work? Some companies do employee recognition programs and employee appreciation programs but if your workplace doesn't even do anything more than a 'good job' for that extra effort, where's the incentive to continue? Besides the fact you have bills to pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Management asking too much work for too little compensation. Self explanatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Working with unreliable co-workers. When you have to pull doubles every few days, and you're being called at home late at night to come in, you know you're in a bad work situation. Unreliable co-workers make it frustrating for everyone because when your shift ends you don't want to be standing around for thirty minutes wondering if the relief will come in or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. High turnover. I guess this is personal preference but if your co-workers are hired and fired quickly this makes things unstable for you. This is especially a issue when management is changed every few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Getting in trouble for following company policy. Yes, this has happened. The management once had a meeting on a specific policy we were all to follow, then that very day threatened to write up several who DID follow it because it lost us customers! If the policy the company makes is losing the company money but you'll be in trouble for not following it...that makes a bad work situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Management who don't care. If they don't care why should you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Management who critisize your appearance on a unprofessional level. When you're treated like the ugly betty of the office, you know you're in a bad work environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Companies/businesses who don't have much revenue. If they aren't making money, how can you guarentee you'll get a paycheck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. No raises/promotions. If there is no raise/promotion to look forward to at some point in the future, and your work load keeps growing, why bother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Lena LaFaye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-7607421460874409557?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/7607421460874409557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-makes-job-untolerable.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/7607421460874409557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/7607421460874409557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-makes-job-untolerable.html' title='What makes a job untolerable?'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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-6168821361169866392.post-2708792915884525225</id><published>2010-03-18T19:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T19:47:54.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back on here again</title><content type='html'>Well I'm back in the hotel biz for now. I dunno. It pays my bills and it's really easy work to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This hotel has me doing night audit. It's ok. I like the quietness of it and it does promise interesting interactions. This week I encountered the most foul smelling prostitue ever at 1am. Yeah. She came in and it smelled rank like when a skunk sprays. She wanted a room and I knew she had to be dirty business even so I was considering selling. Until she reached in her tank top and pulled out a fistful of bills. I had to turn her away. Then she tried to bribe me into giving her a room. She offered me $25 but I just couldn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I worked St.Paddy's day. A drunk off his ass guy came in a 3:30AM. He literally lived right down the street from the hotel but he was way to drunk to get to his home. At least he was polite to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like doing the laundry though on night audit. Folding towels, fine. I can fold those all day no problem it's like second nature now. I will definitely load/unload the dryers and washers. I can sweep out the lint traps and tidy the laundry area. But when it comes to folding sheets...oh my god. Theres a reason I've always avoided it. My arms feel like I cramped a muscle and I only did half a bucket of sheets folding last night. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever. It's a job and I have to pay my bills so I can deal with it for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-2708792915884525225?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/2708792915884525225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2010/03/back-on-here-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/2708792915884525225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/2708792915884525225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2010/03/back-on-here-again.html' title='Back on here again'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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-6168821361169866392.post-5010954191376253740</id><published>2009-11-06T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T19:43:00.128-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rudeness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dislike angry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dislike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rude people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>I dislike some things about Christmas</title><content type='html'>While I love hanging out with good people, eating good food, and giving gifts away, Christmas can bring out the humbug in me very easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are some reasons I dislike the Christmas season.&lt;br /&gt;1.Putting up a Christmas tree. My family always had rinky dink trees that were missing half the branches and took forever to untangle and set up. My mom always made all of us help do this however by the end of the hour one person was left to assemble while everyone else came back just to decorate it. Lazy bums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stand assembling a Christmas tree. If I must do it again there'd better be free drinks. I'm not talking egg nog because that stuff is disgusting. If I ever have a tree it will be preassembled out of the box and pre lit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Which brings me to my second dislike, Christmas lights. I hate those suckers. There was always the one faulty bulb that made the whole string of lights go out. Those lights were such a pain because everyone knows at the end of the previous year once you take down the lights you threw them into the box any which way so the next year someone gets delegated the joy of untangling that hot mess or wires. I hated that job. Buying a prelit tree saves me lots of time and money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Fruit cake. What can I say about fruit cake that hasn't been said already. It's not like any cake you'd ever want to eat. If there was a food you could use has punishment or torture, this would be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Christmas music. It's cute hearing some kid sing jingle bells, sure. When you hear jingle bells by the time Christmas day rolls around though, I'm about ready to jingle someone's bells. You can take that any way you like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really, really wish there was a law preventing horrible repetitive songs from being played until two weeks before. It's Halloween and I'm hearing 'White Christmas'. By the way, White Christmas is the worst holiday song ever. Add that playing on a loop with a nice dose of fruit cake and egg nog and I think you have yourself some good old fashioned torture my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. CONSUMERISM!!! We all know about it, so there's nothing more to say. Remember, home made gifts mean a lot more than gift cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. SENSITIVE PEOPLE. Someone told you Merry Christmas and you got offended. Someone told you Happy Holidays and that still got you offended. When they wished you Season's Greetings you blew a gasket. Give me a break. I'm what you'd call very anti organized religion yet hearing these things won't make me cry foul. Why? Because look where you live people! Who cares! Just because someone says something to you doesn't mean you have to agree with them. I don't agree with a lot of things said to me but you know what? I don't say anything and just go on my own way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Last minute shoppers. I know it's a stereotype but really. Dec.24th and you're surprised that the gifts you ABSOLUTELY HAD TO HAVE are sold out? Give me a break. I mean, it's not like you had three-four months of warning to get your shopping done or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Family get togethers. Some families get together, some should have restraining orders. If your family doesn't get along why the hell would you want to cram everyone in close quarters to ensure bickering, gossiping and fighting?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Egg nog. I already mentioned this but I really don't like egg nog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Tons of people returning gifts they received the day after Christmas. If the sweater was too small, or you already had that PSP game then those are valid gift return reasons. For all you ungrateful bastards out there who simply return to return or because you didn't like what you were given, tough cookies. You will wear those purple and yellow plaid suspenders granny gave you because it's the thought that counts and she was gracious enough to buy you anything at all. That's the way my family ran, when I was growing up it was apauling and embarrassing to think of returning anything we were given for gifts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-5010954191376253740?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/5010954191376253740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dislike-some-things-about-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/5010954191376253740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/5010954191376253740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dislike-some-things-about-christmas.html' title='I dislike some things about Christmas'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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-6168821361169866392.post-6136671512324352959</id><published>2009-11-04T07:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T07:27:00.916-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rudeness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dislike angry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rude people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church folk'/><title type='text'>I dislike people who thank god when things go right</title><content type='html'>Case in point-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a major religious convention in town and a lot of people attending are staying at the hotel I work for. Three adults came in to check in to their room. I didn't see their name listed on the reservation list. I asked them if they booked it at a different location or if maybe someone else made their reservations under a different name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They kept saying they were certain the room was booked at this hotel except they didn't keep their reservation number. So, I said I would call the help line and give them their name to check if any reservations showed up for our city with them. After a few minutes of helping them with this we learned they were booked across the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I told them this, they all three burst out praising God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all the saints in unison for finding their room. Then one mentioned there was no room for them in the inn but God found a way. While they walked out the door still marveling over God's divine intervention I called out after them, "You're welcome!!!" Assholes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-6136671512324352959?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/6136671512324352959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dislike-people-who-thank-god-when.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/6136671512324352959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/6136671512324352959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dislike-people-who-thank-god-when.html' title='I dislike people who thank god when things go right'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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-6168821361169866392.post-4672516687132212586</id><published>2009-11-03T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T12:09:36.785-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dislike angry babies words baby word'/><title type='text'>I dislike baby words</title><content type='html'>Nappie. Binkie. Boo-boo. (Boo-boo as in replacement of poop) Words I will never use when I have a baby of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words make me cringe when I hear someone say them. Who invented this? Is it because they're babies it's ok to talk like that? I haven't understood the relation of these words to what they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a diaper not a nappie. A nappie is what you take in the afternoon. Your hair can get nappie. You don't wear a nappie. It's a fucking diaper so say diaper damnit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Binkie. Pacifier. What the hell is a binkie? Does it light up and blink? How does the letter P turn into a B? If anything is a nickname for pacifier it'd be pacy pronounced pass-eee. Has in pacy the baby a pacy so it shuts up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boo-Boo. A boo-boo is not poo-poo. A boo-boo is when you scrape your knee. If you call your child's poop boo-boo good luck potty training them because everytime they poop they'll think they had a accident because a boo-boo is a accident not a bodily function damnit!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are more baby related words out there I won't like so time will tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-4672516687132212586?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/4672516687132212586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dislike-baby-words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/4672516687132212586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/4672516687132212586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dislike-baby-words.html' title='I dislike baby words'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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-6168821361169866392.post-2671560839391603675</id><published>2009-10-21T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T08:17:14.509-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dislike angry'/><title type='text'>I dislike the term DH</title><content type='html'>I hate reading the abbreviation DH. It makes me think of annoying types of women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By annoying types of women I mean the kind that define everything they do in their lives by their husband. Like they have no identity after getting in a relationship. These go in line with the type who will no longer be a woman once they have a kid. They are now a mom and their bodies, themselves, none of that matters. They may has well hold a funeral for their gender once they give birth because they are dead to the world now. But wait, it gets better, in a few years they will evolve into MILFs, then once the kids move out they are cougars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it all. Don't tell me about your DH or hubby, it's a husband or for fucks sake say their name once in a while or have you forgotten it because you can only identify that you're married and that's your DH well fuck you not everyone is married and I hate it all go die plzkthx FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-2671560839391603675?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/2671560839391603675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dislike-term-dh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/2671560839391603675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/2671560839391603675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dislike-term-dh.html' title='I dislike the term DH'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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-6168821361169866392.post-8646853311365037851</id><published>2009-10-09T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:34:00.118-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='like'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pie'/><title type='text'>I like pumpkin pie.</title><content type='html'>Pumpkin pie and cherry pie are my two favorite flavors of pie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the fall begins I start thinking about pumpkin pie. I can't eat pumpkin pie any other season because it's not has fitting to the mood.  I tried making pumpkin pie once, it was fabulous. I even did a lattice top. However, for convince I do store brought pies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found the frozen Sara Lee ones are good, sometimes a store bakery will have a fresh pumpkin pie too. The best way to eat it to me is have it warmed in the microwave, put some nutmeg or cinnamon on it and top with either whipped cream or vanilla bean ice cream. It has to be vanilla bean, none of that syrup favoring brand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you have it. Pumpkin pie. I could go for a slice right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Lena LaFaye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-8646853311365037851?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/8646853311365037851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-like-pumpkin-pie.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/8646853311365037851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/8646853311365037851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-like-pumpkin-pie.html' title='I like pumpkin pie.'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6168821361169866392.post-3676520756514928664</id><published>2009-10-07T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T20:05:00.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I dislike MSN slideshows.</title><content type='html'>I have hotmail. Nearly every day when I log onto MSN there is some slidehow or another that may or may not look appealing to me. If I do find intrigue in the subject I might be tempted to click on it. This is when I remember, I dislike MSN slideshows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoever made it so that each page has to load individually probably did it has a big fuck you to everyone who has ever owned a slow speed internet provider. By the time the second slide is loading I'm wanting to navigate away from the page but now my mouse has frozen because for some reason this slide is taking up all of my bandwidth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, MSN slideshow people, whoever you are, here's a idea, have each slide load ON A SINGLE PAGE!!! If I wanted to scroll through multiple pages to view pictures I wouldn't call it a slide show I'd call it a multiple picture link show because that's what it is so stop lying to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Lena LaFaye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-3676520756514928664?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/3676520756514928664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dislike-msn-slideshows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/3676520756514928664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/3676520756514928664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dislike-msn-slideshows.html' title='I dislike MSN slideshows.'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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-6168821361169866392.post-1181798404893497235</id><published>2009-10-06T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T19:08:48.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Introductory</title><content type='html'>Welcome readers, my name is Lena LaFaye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my third try at blogging. I failed at my first two attempts, they say third time is the charm right? Where I failed in my previous tries was it got personal. The first time I had to leave because the posts became generally more and more about me rather than my comic. The second blog I wrote had potential. It began on a good note then the subject matter took a turn for the worse. That is to say my feelings for the thing I was writing about changed and I felt I should scrap the whole thing before someone saw it who shouldn't have. ( Run-on sentences FTW!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I apologize if you were a fan of my previous blogs. I'm back and with a new attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I went wrong last time is where I will go right this go around. You see, this time, it's personal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog will suffice has my soapbox to talk about what I like or dislike. I will update it when I damn well feel like it. If you don't want to read it fine, get off my blog, and if you like it comment for the love of god!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we go, a blog of personal whineyness that will shout out into the circuts of the internet for no reason other than it amuses me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Lena LaFaye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6168821361169866392-1181798404893497235?l=lenalafaye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/feeds/1181798404893497235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/10/introductory.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/1181798404893497235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6168821361169866392/posts/default/1181798404893497235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lenalafaye.blogspot.com/2009/10/introductory.html' title='Introductory'/><author><name>Lena LaFaye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06720500824997251361</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>
