<?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-4832272323743723286</id><updated>2011-09-02T17:44:32.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>annirossisgoodtimes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-5397057545074016815</id><published>2011-09-02T13:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T17:44:32.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ANNI GET YOUR GUN</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ySzfAhHXyRQ/TmE6T3MlmwI/AAAAAAAAACM/Q-omAS6Q4Zw/s1600/332997_10150290186212561_608147560_7762832_1250954_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ySzfAhHXyRQ/TmE6T3MlmwI/AAAAAAAAACM/Q-omAS6Q4Zw/s320/332997_10150290186212561_608147560_7762832_1250954_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647859520607984386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*This  is how I  "GET IN THE ZONE" before I go work in the studio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-5397057545074016815?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5397057545074016815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=5397057545074016815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5397057545074016815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5397057545074016815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2011/09/annie-get-your-gun.html' title='ANNI GET YOUR GUN'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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/-ySzfAhHXyRQ/TmE6T3MlmwI/AAAAAAAAACM/Q-omAS6Q4Zw/s72-c/332997_10150290186212561_608147560_7762832_1250954_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-192233759803664210</id><published>2011-08-25T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T07:48:45.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SPECIAL LETTER</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;blockquote type="cite"&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Ms. Rossi,&lt;br /&gt;Will You be kind enough to make a precious gift of 2 hand-written ( not&lt;br /&gt;printed ) autographs ( one for "BOB" and one another for my brother&lt;br /&gt;"JASON" )? We shall be glad to receive Your original autographs sometime.&lt;br /&gt;Thank You very much in advance ! We shall feel highly honoured.&lt;br /&gt;We wish You all the good lucks and all the best always and everywhere ! Let&lt;br /&gt;the successes and the joy of life accompany You in all Your deeds !&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;BOB and JASON STOLYAROV,&lt;br /&gt;ROSA LUXEMBURG ST. 50-11,&lt;br /&gt;71112 BERDYANSK,&lt;br /&gt;UKRAINE.&lt;span&gt;﻿&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*First of all, I am flattered that someone would even want my autograph and I think it's great that the appeal of a signature is still in circulation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secondly, I have changed their names and address slightly for their privacy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;IT's in the mail boo boo!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Anni&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-192233759803664210?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/192233759803664210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=192233759803664210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/192233759803664210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/192233759803664210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2011/08/special-letter.html' title='SPECIAL LETTER'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-5596647096230714792</id><published>2011-04-05T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T02:48:44.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GOTTA GO</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/gotta%20go/kiche187/cat.jpg?o=17" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q50/kiche187/cat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I recently went out west on a visit to Los Angeles. I played a handful of shows and caught up with some old friends.  I really enjoyed myself, although I can recall one particularly uncomfortable moment.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I spent a few nights in Valencia, just north of the city.  A friend who had been attending college took a semester off and was staying with his parents to save some money.  When they found out I was coming thru town they INSISTED I stay in their guest bedroom.  Of course I was thrilled to have such a comfortable place to sleep for a few nights instead of my usual couch surfing.  They even picked me up from the airport.  We had a lovely first evening together.  I made lasagna and we all sat and ate out on the patio together and had a bottle of wine they had been saving from their trip to greece last year.  We were having such a nice time, we didn't realize it was 1 am and way past their bedtime. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Goodnite sweetie. Just holler if you need anything. We are RIGHT HERE"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my friends mother said as she pointed firmly to her bedroom door next to mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Thank you.  I'm sure I have everything I need."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i said as i gave her a peck on the cheek good night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I shut the door  to my room and realized there was a big white cage at the foot of my bed.  There was a bird inside. I was so tired and slightly buzzed from the wine, I didn't mind.  I eventually dozed off.  I awoke in the middle of the night because I had to pee.  I lifted the covers off and walked over to the door.  I twisted the knob, but it wouldn't turn.  I messed with the lock, but still no luck. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I started to feel a little antsy, but i still kept my cool.  I tried again and again, still wouldn't budge. I started knocking on my door in hopes that my friend accross the hall would hear me and come let me out.  When that didn't work I tried calling his cell phone.  After a few calls with no answer and a good 15 minutes of trouble shooting with the door, I started looking around the room, I knew I couldn't hold it much longer.  I spotted a plastic bag with birdseed in it.  I took the bird seed out and peed in the plastic bag.  I tied it up very carefully inside another couple of plastic bags and went back to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I woke up earlier than usual the next morning due to my jet lag. The door just opened right up now that the sun was shining.  I hopped in the shower, when I came out my friend was at the bottom of the stairs and his mother was at the top holding what SHE THOUGHT was bird seed.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I AM GONNA GO FEED THE BIRD IN THE GARAGE"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;she said holding the bag at her side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I frantically ran over to my friend and discreetly spoke in his ear once I realized what she was holding.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"OM.  YOU HAVE TO TAKE THAT BAG AWAY FROM YOUR  MOM SOMEHOW.  IT'S A LONG STORY, BUT THERE IS PEE IN THAT BAG. I GOT LOCKED INSIDE THE GUEST ROOM LAST NIGHT. I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was really cool about it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"MOM. I'LL DO IT.  GIVE ME THE BAG."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he said calmly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;As soon as he got the bag in his hand we both started cracking up.  I ran up to the guest room and he told his mother what happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I FEEL SOOO BAD ANNI.  YOU ARE SO SWEET.  I HOPE YOU DON'T FEEL EMBARRASSED. WE HAVE BEEN MEANING TO GET THAT DARN DOOR FIXED FOR AGES"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;she said soothingly after I came back downstairs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I say:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"IT'S OK.  I JUST HOPE YOU DON'T THINK I AM REALLY WEIRD"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/4832272323743723286-5596647096230714792?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5596647096230714792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=5596647096230714792' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5596647096230714792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5596647096230714792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2011/04/gotta-go.html' title='GOTTA GO'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-6766269122982023589</id><published>2010-08-30T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T11:29:22.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BARGAIN at the ATM</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/atm" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f224/alex022688/ATM.jpg" border="0" alt="atm Pictures, Images and Photos" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I've been spending a lot of time in a very Italian neighborhood in East Williamsburg.  I really enjoy it.  I come from a big Italian family myself (on dad's side), so I find the site of biscotti thru a bakery window, fresh pasta,  well kept nails and eyebrows, lots of arm movement/hand gestures, and gaughty interior/exterior decorating very comforting as I adjust to my new life in Brooklyn. &lt;div&gt;There are several friendly faces I see almost every day, I even get a wink from some of them and I smile warmly in return because it's so nice to interact with people in a neighborhood where they at least make some effort to make you feel welcome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My friends in the neighborhood who didn't grow up here always talk about the presence of the Mafia around these parts, but I'm not one to speculate even though some of them claimed to have "heard this" or "seen that" supporting  they're around.  I told these friends of mine about a strange experience I had and they were certain I had interacted with a couple of gangsters, but who knows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;here it goes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was meeting my friend Jasmine for a BLT at 6 pm.  As we met up on the corner, I realized I needed to get cash.  We spotted an ATM right accross the street at this bar I've always passed walking to the train.  Usually there are 4 or 5 guys sitting in lawn chairs out front and they're always friendly and give a wave and a wink in my direction.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was about to put my card in, I felt a shadow of a small group of men from behind.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SOME OLDER ITALIAN GUY:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;"don't put ya card in sweetie.  you don't wanna do that"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ME:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;"oh is it broken or something?"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;akwardly smiling as I waited for my card deets to register&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SOME OLDER ITALIAN GUY:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"no. no. your account number is gonna go down....you don't want that sweetie"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he said as he pulled out a HUGE wad of cash in a money clip - speaking in a soothing tone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ME:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"OH"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;i said half laughing/half gasping &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SOME OLDER ITAlIAN GUY:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Here. How much ya need? I just wanna give you some money.  You don't need to give me nothing for it. I just.....ur a beautiful girl and I ah....... I ah..... wanna give you some money - thats all."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ME:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;"OH- I'm really flattered........"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pondering for a moment, wondering what the right play is and what would happen if i did or didn't accept the offer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;" BUT......I CAN'T TAKE YOUR MONEY"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mouthing "DAMN" to myself as I walked away with my friend and $60 less in my bank account, but who knows what the outcome would've been if i would have taken it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've had other offers over the last couple of months to buy food, drinks, even shoes.  I decided to accept my first offer last week.  A nice older Italian man insisted on paying for my Italian Ice, and I let him because I'm really trying to save money right now. and of course - it would have been rude to refuse, after all it was only $2 and that felt ok.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope you are enjoying that early fall weather :) - ARX&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-6766269122982023589?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6766269122982023589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=6766269122982023589' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/6766269122982023589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/6766269122982023589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2010/08/bargain-at-atm.html' title='BARGAIN at the ATM'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-3742702328595393681</id><published>2010-05-29T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T14:52:09.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_j1ZqhIico/TAGMWrdK71I/AAAAAAAAABo/0LrQcIYJetE/s1600/3993576273_8f1935dee7_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J_j1ZqhIico/TAGMWrdK71I/AAAAAAAAABo/0LrQcIYJetE/s320/3993576273_8f1935dee7_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476812943109320530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Have a Good One!&lt;br /&gt;love, anni xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-3742702328595393681?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3742702328595393681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=3742702328595393681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/3742702328595393681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/3742702328595393681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-memorial-day-weekend.html' title='HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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/_J_j1ZqhIico/TAGMWrdK71I/AAAAAAAAABo/0LrQcIYJetE/s72-c/3993576273_8f1935dee7_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-1932099222023438278</id><published>2010-05-10T09:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T10:47:36.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Email Address Discount</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/cashier" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i704.photobucket.com/albums/ww42/lucad822/cashier_grocery_store.jpg" border="0" alt="cashier Pictures, Images and Photos" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I bought a pair of new summer shoes the other day.  When I checked out, the clerk asked for my email address.  I thought i'd give him my real one cuz I was in a nice mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I say:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;"It's MUSICALNANNYLA@xxxxxxxxxx.com"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Oh my god - that's an AMAZING email address"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"om..really?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clerk says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"how did it come about"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"well...I am a nanny, who is musical and I used to live in la"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clerk:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"amazing...I am going to deduct the tax and give you a %15 discount on your shoes just because your email address makes you seem awesome."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was happy to get the discount, I couldn't help but think that whole transaction was kind of weird.  If you want to woo and keep new customers now I guess you have to flatter them about any stupid little thing you can find out about them.  He probably would have found my address or phone number to be "AMAZING" too.  But seriously, I should stop complaining cuz I got a discount. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-arx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-1932099222023438278?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1932099222023438278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=1932099222023438278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1932099222023438278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1932099222023438278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-email-and-new-shoes.html' title='Email Address Discount'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-5249349061583647475</id><published>2010-04-20T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T10:57:01.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls Talking on the Train</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/on%20subway" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i163.photobucket.com/albums/t306/Tesselmania15_2007/subway.jpg" border="0" alt="subway Pictures, Images and Photos" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I was riding the train back into brooklyn yesterday, and I heard this girl giving advice to her other girlfriend about making her current guy jealous.  It went a little something like this if i remember correctly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"When your talkin 2 him on the phone, click 2 the other line and say, o hold up leeme get diz, den wait a few minutes,just press the mute button, and click back 2 him, say another guyz name, like, o sorry carlos ima talk 2 you later, and when he says, its jason or watever, b like o ma bad, hold up, wait 2 more minutes, and click back 2 your guy...workz great"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caught my ear for sure.....lol&lt;br /&gt;ax&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-5249349061583647475?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5249349061583647475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=5249349061583647475' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5249349061583647475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5249349061583647475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2010/04/girl-talking-on-train.html' title='Girls Talking on the Train'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-1250539932687503249</id><published>2010-03-09T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T14:03:35.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE STORIES from NEW JERSEY</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2eqCBCUawKY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2eqCBCUawKY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really felt like watching that movie GOODFELLAS last night, but couldn't find my copy of it.  I was chatting with my friend Aimee on the phone and she sent me this link after we talked about Italian mobster movie stuff.  I love the clothes in this clip especially, and just the overall "vibe" in general.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-1250539932687503249?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1250539932687503249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=1250539932687503249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1250539932687503249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1250539932687503249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-stories-from-new-jersey.html' title='LOVE STORIES from NEW JERSEY'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-5247950463305996292</id><published>2010-02-13T22:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T23:27:40.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JULIETTE</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kCzDYBGbx-M&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kCzDYBGbx-M&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe these dance moves.  They started a Pop Dance conservatory (julliard style) in Korea a few years back and I can see how it's paid off. This group is called SHINEE.  I wish some of the shots were longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-5247950463305996292?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5247950463305996292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=5247950463305996292' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5247950463305996292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5247950463305996292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2010/02/juliette.html' title='JULIETTE'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-1876514814010168502</id><published>2009-10-25T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T11:49:14.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready to Die</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/notorious%20big%20ready%20to%20die" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c113/DJAbstract/readytodie.jpg" border="0" alt="Notorious B.I.G. - Ready to Die Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this album passed me by when i was in elementary school.  I have been listening to it for the past month.  I've had a moment with each track where it became the most moving or my new favorite.  The other day I listened to it in it's entirety and I was sitting, parked in the driver's seat of my camry. I don't know if it was because i was stressed or something, but during the last track i felt like crying, the whole cd made me feel pretty crazy. I know I'm very late in discovering how great this record and hip hop from this time period is in general, but I can't stop thinking about it even when I'm not listening to it. I just realized puff daddy produced the album and appears in a few low key spots, which was pretty unexpected and awesome. I know it's all obvious, but I had to tell you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-1876514814010168502?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1876514814010168502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=1876514814010168502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1876514814010168502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1876514814010168502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2009/10/ready-to-die.html' title='Ready to Die'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-3718682851543624764</id><published>2009-10-10T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T00:01:59.252-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Plane Talk</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/charter%20flight" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z277/katgirl1173/Grand%20Canyon/052.jpg" border="0" alt="Wade howling in the Charter flight to the Ranch Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I flew from Chicago to Omaha last week to start my tour with The Headlights and the Pomegranates.  The plane was teeny tiny.&lt;br /&gt;I accidentally smacked my viola case in this guys head who had a duffle bag with a bunch of hockey equipment in it.  He didn't seem to mind, but he wasn't thrilled.  I took my seat and felt relieved to not have to deal with the panicking effects of such close quarters.  It was also very hot even though it was one of the coldest days in chicago this season.  This man sat down next to me with a shiny PHILLIES jacket.  The flight attendant was walking thru the aisle to make sure everyone had their seatbelt on.  As she passed our row  she whispered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"GO YANKEES" &lt;br /&gt;all jiffy and stuff. just being playful about the world series i suppose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we were both like&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT? WE DIDN'T HEAR YOU"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"GO YANKEES" &lt;br /&gt;with a creepy staring smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked the other way cuz she clearly wasn't addressing me and the guy next to me turns to me without really acknowledging the flight attendant and says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I DON'T WANNA HEAR THAT RIGHT NOW" &lt;br /&gt;super flat faced and uninterested in replying to her comment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part was that we would both discuss every 20 minutes or so about how hot the plane was and then each time he would peel off another layer of PHILLIES clothing exposing a new one with inverse colors at each turn.  It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having some tooth sensitivity in my upper left quadrant. It's getting to the point where I definitely need to go to an overpriced dentist in Seattle at the moment.  Anyways, towards the end of the flight I was so precoccupied with the curiosity of the pain and how much it was going to cost me and if it was a cavity, an abcess or best case scenario, nothing at all.  So I blurt out and ask this guy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE WHEN YOU HAVE A CAVITY?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had an array of suggestions and was really interested in helping me get to the bottom of what the symptoms could be.  I guess he's a super nice guy, but just didn't feel like dealing with the flight attendant lady.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I would like to add that I was watching the office on my new portable dvd player during the flight.  He tapped me on the elbow out of no where.  I paused the dvd and he goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I WISH I WAS WATCHING TV RIGHT NOW.  INSTEAD I GOTTA DEAL WITH ALL THIS PAPER WORK."&lt;br /&gt;as he flipped the pages in his 3 ring binder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was like:&lt;br /&gt;"YA" &lt;br /&gt;and pressed play.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-3718682851543624764?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3718682851543624764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=3718682851543624764' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/3718682851543624764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/3718682851543624764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2009/11/plane-talk.html' title='Plane Talk'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z277/katgirl1173/Grand%20Canyon/th_052.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-6634473621217974142</id><published>2009-09-17T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T23:53:33.242-08:00</updated><title type='text'>North Coast Video</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_j1ZqhIico/SojLwDmvI_I/AAAAAAAAABQ/65KfoZoUx8E/s1600-h/Photo+231.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J_j1ZqhIico/SojLwDmvI_I/AAAAAAAAABQ/65KfoZoUx8E/s320/Photo+231.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370766582101255154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Beth works at a video store here in Chicago called North Coast.  I was hanging out with her during her shift a couple of days ago.  The weather was stormy and the store was packed.  People were waiting in line forever as my friend rushed around the store trying to help everybody.  I was sitting on  a stool behind the retail counter playing tetris on the internet as the store became more and more slammed with customers .  People kept addressing me as an employee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a lady says to me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am returning this video today.  It was due last night. Is it late? Do i have to pay a late fee?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i say:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"yes, it's late. i don't work here, so i don't know if you have to pay a late fee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A handful of people came to me with similar queries and after hearing them out I would simply say: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "sorry i don't work here"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to my tetris game for another 20 minutes, and then my mom called me on my cell phone.  I was chatting for a good 10 minutes while simultaneously trying to continue my game of tetris.  I looked up and the line had become huge.  Some lady was contesting her late fees for a really long time and was pissed that her reserved copy of the newly released dvd "obsessed" (starring beyonce) had been accidentally rented out.  I realized that people were staring and snickering at me in the line.  I made eye contact briefly and 6 people fled up to the counter where I was sitting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;everyone was freaking out on me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer 1."why aren't you helping your co-worker out, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer 2."you've had your head stuck in that damn laptop for the last 15 minutes!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer 3. "can i speak to your manager?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;customer 4  "what's this girls deal?"  (my personal favorite)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I stood up and stated loud and clearly:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I DON'T WORK HERE" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People sheepishly got back in line as i flashed them a huge, slightly insincere smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some woman waiting in line said to another:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Now THAT'S a good friend.  hangin' out on a friday night at the video store while her buddy is workin'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Some drunk dude with a plastic cup joked with me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You better ring us up as long as you're back there taking up space"&lt;br /&gt;(who later told my friend "your top is 3d in all the right places")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;and lastly a nice young man came up to me in a shy manner and asked:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"do you play.........violin, or viola? i mean Viola? I think I saw you play last year, well I know I saw you play, It was awesome. "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-6634473621217974142?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6634473621217974142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=6634473621217974142' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/6634473621217974142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/6634473621217974142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2009/08/north-coast-video.html' title='North Coast Video'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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/_J_j1ZqhIico/SojLwDmvI_I/AAAAAAAAABQ/65KfoZoUx8E/s72-c/Photo+231.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-6356810306824633627</id><published>2009-09-16T15:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T15:45:56.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tennis in the Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_j1ZqhIico/SrFqmb14vkI/AAAAAAAAABY/zG-7Y0bkUv4/s1600-h/rnnirossiisgoodtimestennis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_j1ZqhIico/SrFqmb14vkI/AAAAAAAAABY/zG-7Y0bkUv4/s320/rnnirossiisgoodtimestennis.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382200238225800770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've played tennis since Jr. High.  I'm not great, but I can hit the ball around and volley pretty well.  There are some public courts near a High School in my neighborhood of Humboldt Park.  Rollin and I have tried to take advantage of the free courts this summer.  When school was out of session there was always a group of young little gang bangers that would yell at us and make rude comments while we were trying to play.&lt;br /&gt;Once they chased us to our car and tried to steal our racquets and made fun of Rollin's pants.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's been a relief now that school is back in session.  The courts are surrounded by plenty of playing field for the young high school teams to practice for soccer and football games.  None of the kids really paid us any attention and it finally started to feel like we were blending in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was going through my drawer of "work out" clothes and found this pair of shiny blue leggings.  I decided to wear them to the courts yesterday because they were kind of cute and comfy.  We started warming up and hitting the ball around.  As I was playing at a casual pace I realized the leggings were kind of slipping off of me and so I asked rollin if I could use his belt.  That didn't really work and they slipped even more due to the weight of the metal on the belt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just ignored this nuisance and thought it was pretty minor and not worth going home.  We proceded to play  an actual game.  I served first and i was like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Zero-Zero. Love-Love"&lt;br /&gt;and smacked the ball over to the other side.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We slowly got into the game and I would have to pull up my pants like every other hit or so.  It wasn't so bad early on, but as we were getting into the heat of the game it really started to piss me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this distraction, rollin won the first 2 games.  It was ON in the 3rd game. &lt;br /&gt;We were at the end of the match and it was my point at Ad-In  (that means whoever is serving has won the challenge where both players are tied at 40/40 and they just have to sinch the deal and kick out one last point before they've won the game.)&lt;br /&gt;It was a great volley.  I got some awesome shots and killed it by sprinting up to the net and smacking the ball on the opposite side of the court. No way rollin could have hit it.  You can imagine I was pretty pleased with myself, but after the initial rush had set in I heard this kid say really loudly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"LOOK AT THAT GIRLS BUTT"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The soccer team, the football team, the bus drivers waiting to take the kids home were all laughing hysterically.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The leggings had slipped off of me and I didn't even realize cuz they're kind of like a second skin, ya know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was SO embarrassed and pulled up not only the leggings,  but my pink cotton polka dotted undies i bought at Primark in england.  For those of you who aren't familiar with Primark, it carries the equivelant of the selection of undergarments you would find at a huge grocery store in the health and beauty aisle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I thought to myself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"the show must go on"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and continued to finish the game.  i thought it would seem more lame if I just left right after.  I didn't even win the set either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came back today to play some more, take this photo and hopefully recover from yesterday's mishap.  I accidentally hit a ball out into the football field. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coach came up to me with the stray ball and said:&lt;br /&gt;"you were out here yesterday, wernch you girl?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i was like:&lt;br /&gt;"om...ya"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he goes:&lt;br /&gt;"keep it up. keep it up real good"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-6356810306824633627?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6356810306824633627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=6356810306824633627' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/6356810306824633627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/6356810306824633627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2009/09/tennis-in-park.html' title='Tennis in the Park'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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/_J_j1ZqhIico/SrFqmb14vkI/AAAAAAAAABY/zG-7Y0bkUv4/s72-c/rnnirossiisgoodtimestennis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-2982324824253320784</id><published>2009-03-21T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T13:47:41.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>funforeveryone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://freetetris.org"&gt;freetetris.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-2982324824253320784?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2982324824253320784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=2982324824253320784' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/2982324824253320784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/2982324824253320784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2009/03/funforeveryone.html' title='funforeveryone'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-5242925936814457468</id><published>2009-03-08T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T21:56:23.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions &amp; Answers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_j1ZqhIico/SbRSDUWxVhI/AAAAAAAAABI/iVMVapsagDE/s1600-h/10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J_j1ZqhIico/SbRSDUWxVhI/AAAAAAAAABI/iVMVapsagDE/s320/10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310960077533959698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I played a therapist in Aimee Goguen's upcoming film &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"Happy Once Happy"&lt;/span&gt;. As part of the cast I was asked to fill out this questionaire which will be public later on anyways, so I thought I would share. Above is a still from the film. I'm hoping she will let me post a clip from the movie when it's released.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What is your happiest memory?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My happiest memory is laughing to the point of vomitting with my bff Danelle back in middle school when we placed the vacuum tube on my dad's nose and turned it on while he was sleeping, and then doing it a couple more times as he went in and out of sleep. (hands down on this one)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your saddest memory?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;helping the funeral home move my grandma's body out of her house an hour after she died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite color?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olive Green&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm interested in everyone's happiest/saddest memories and favorite colors too. Just leave a comment and let me know when you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can check out the rest of the casts answers along with drawings of all of us here&lt;br /&gt;www.happyoncehappymovie.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;-arx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-5242925936814457468?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5242925936814457468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=5242925936814457468' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5242925936814457468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5242925936814457468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2009/03/questions-answers.html' title='Questions &amp; Answers'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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/_J_j1ZqhIico/SbRSDUWxVhI/AAAAAAAAABI/iVMVapsagDE/s72-c/10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-8072542219168773354</id><published>2009-02-28T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T12:41:55.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TOUR DIARY EXCERPT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/metal%20head" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i474.photobucket.com/albums/rr102/SaidTheDawnZombie/TR166901-Metal-Head.jpg" border="0" alt="METAL!! Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sun Feb 9 (written about on feb 11)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today kind of sucked, but it's ok now.  Whitman (chris payne) picked me up at 9AM because we had a show in Tucson tonight.  It was about a 10 hour drive.  We played in an old airplane hangar which was pretty cool. &lt;br /&gt;Luckily I had a sweet cd that my friend Anglina burned for me before I left Chicago.  She DJ's around chicago sometimes.  One night I heard this one song she had played and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I was like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"what is this?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and she's like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"it's black sabbath you idiot"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We listened to the BS album Master of Reality all the way to Tuscon.  It pretty much saved my mood and passed the time away.  We were hosted by a nice guy named Eric who is in a metal band.  Once we started talking about my new love for Black Sabbath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he was like:&lt;br /&gt;"you HAVE to check out this band acid king. it's like black sabbath but with a female singer"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we listened to it the next day on our way back to phoenix and it was not like that at all. it didn't need to sound like black sabbath for me to like it, but it wasn't my thing.  I didn't like it. it sucked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here is a recap and some honorable mentions of some stuff we listened to on our SW tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Sabbath (Master of Reality)&lt;br /&gt;Justin Timberlake (Futuresex/Lovesounds)&lt;br /&gt;Kanye West          ('heartless')&lt;br /&gt;Nicole Kidman     (new unreleased cdr of upcoming album)&lt;br /&gt;Coconut Records   ('west coast'........um....i have a song with the same title)&lt;br /&gt;Acid King               (don't know the name of the album)&lt;br /&gt;Gowns                   (RedState)&lt;br /&gt;The Zombies         (mixed songs)&lt;br /&gt;The Beatles           (Revolver)&lt;br /&gt;Sleepytime Gorilla Museum (untitled cdr)&lt;br /&gt;MetalMags            (myspace songs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got any more suggestions to add to my SWEET mix?&lt;br /&gt;let me know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-arx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-8072542219168773354?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/8072542219168773354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=8072542219168773354' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/8072542219168773354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/8072542219168773354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2009/02/tour-diary-excerpt.html' title='TOUR DIARY EXCERPT'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-1239522393532066329</id><published>2008-12-29T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T09:32:52.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>J.T.</title><content type='html'>The subjects in this blog have naturally fallen outside of music, but I really like what I have seen/heard of Jan Terri.  I first discovered her about one year ago.  Rollin showed me a variety of her music videos on youtube.  She is a bit of a cult figure from what i gather, so maybe it's your thing, maybe it's not, and maybe you're already aware of her.  She seems to have an earnest sense of "putting herself out there", which i admire greatly.  She's also a Chicago lady, and I like that too.  No irony here for me ither, just really into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hope you enjoy, or pass it along to someone who will if you don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IO2oayC54dg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IO2oayC54dg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love&lt;br /&gt;anni&lt;br /&gt;p.s. i love the limo so much&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-1239522393532066329?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1239522393532066329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=1239522393532066329' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1239522393532066329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1239522393532066329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/12/jt.html' title='J.T.'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-5539106848721396241</id><published>2008-12-14T19:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T20:46:56.947-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BETTY'S HOUSE</title><content type='html'>I think I have been asserting my home and craft desires lately.  It started off with cooking a year ago and then gradually progressed into a full fledged love affair with decorating, baking, and making homemade soap and stuff.  You can imagine the holidays bring ample opportunity to almost go over the edge for a newcomer to homekaing like me, but i don't mind.  I feel like it upsets some people how other people enjoy christmas, thanksgiving, birthdays or whatever, but for me it's always a pleasure.  I also feel like there are some folks who deny themselves the joys of a holiday and confuse themselves into having disdain for it because there is so much pressure to be unfufilled by such simple pleasures as food, family, cookies, nostalgia and stuff.  However, i also think there are situations where it is impossible to enjoy holidays with such a declared expectation for "treasured moments" and stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the past few weeks have been a blur, filled with explorations in homemade candy, cookies, making my own tree ornaments from printer paper, making bath salts and lip balm from scratch to give as presents to all of my girlfriends and even hosting an "open house" with mulled cider, and my very own cheese spreads.  It's worth something to know i can do these things on my own, but I will admit i haven't found anyone who i can share my zest for homaking with quite yet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you know someone in your life right now who is genuinely interested in these types of activities, please don't write them off immediately, they are most likely going out on a limb to try new things and share the tasty/nice stuff they are making.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here are my new "famous" chocolate covered pretzel rods.  i find this picture funny because i hate cats, but my sweatshirt says otherwise.  i wore it that day because i was hanging out with my x-roommate/best friend and we have an ongoing joke about how i hate cats.  she has 2.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy holidays!&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s292.photobucket.com/albums/mm39/rollinhunt/?action=view&amp;current=IMG_0800-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm39/rollinhunt/IMG_0800-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-5539106848721396241?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5539106848721396241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=5539106848721396241' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5539106848721396241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/5539106848721396241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/12/bettys-house.html' title='BETTY&apos;S HOUSE'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-4026840041495841883</id><published>2008-11-20T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T11:41:26.052-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yoga dude</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/yoga" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i38.photobucket.com/albums/e114/blopez1/ECH%20website/At%20JPL/JPLYoga2.jpg" border="0" alt="Yoga class Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was sitting on my ass driving from city to city everyday on my tour these past couple months, i decided i would take a yoga class when i got back to Chicago.  The only time I had ever really done yoga was when I took a modern dance class my first year of college, which I should blog about sometime because all of that business was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a really cheap and easy evening class through my friend who had been pushing for me to come along for a while. I was out all day without a chance to eat, so when I came home to change my clothes, I ate a huge bowl of "kale, white bean, potato and carrot" soup. As I was eating it my friend who was visiting me said &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I would go to the class with you, but i am afraid i would get diarrhea from releasing all of the toxins or something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rushed out the door thinking he was out of his mind.  When I got there, a few people were milling outside the locked studio, one of which I recognized as the guy who lives right above me in my building.  I hear him playing piano sometimes, but we've never really talked or anything.  We had a discussion about our heating units in our building.  When he described his heater I just assumed we had the same kind and i was like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"yeah. we have that one too" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and he was like&lt;br /&gt;"you do? are you sure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i said&lt;br /&gt;"yes. we definitely have the same heater"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then the class started. &lt;br /&gt;rollin later told me that we definitely have different heaters because all he has is a gas fireplace because his whole system broke down a couple of weeks before i got home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so my neighbor and i had set our mats up next to each other, because that's what neighbors do.  we started stretching, and breathing at the instructors request.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by mid class, i was feeling pretty good. the class was attempting the hardest pose yet.&lt;br /&gt;it was really crazy. your neck is like hanging backwards over your back and your legs are like crossed and one arm is pointing up to the ceiling and the other is holding all of your weight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i felt an awful and sudden pain in my right shoulder and neck. omg. it hurt so bad. so i just stopped for a little while. and the instructor was like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"come on annie. stay with the group."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i just rambled. something, i don't even remember. i was in a lot of pain, but then it started to get better. and then she stopped the class once she figured out i was hurt and i was like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"there is like a "cracking" pain in my neck." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"cracking?"  can you believe i said that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she advised i take it easy, which i did.  a little too easy. &lt;br /&gt;as we were doing our wind down stretches i farted super loud into my neighbors face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first time is always akward i guess.  i am still going next week.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yours truly&lt;br /&gt;arxx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-4026840041495841883?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4026840041495841883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=4026840041495841883' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/4026840041495841883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/4026840041495841883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/11/yoga-dude.html' title='Yoga dude'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-1156932876945686023</id><published>2008-10-27T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T10:14:31.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All I want for Christmas</title><content type='html'>I am in the middle of my US tour. I just got done with a string of shows in the uk last week.  I have had very few days off, but when i have managed to get some time to relax, I happen to be hosted by people who own HIGH DEFINITION FLAT SCREEN TV's!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hooked.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched Carlito's Way in Belfast on a huge HDFSTV.  Aside from the movie being awesome, it felt like Al Pucino was right in my face, the screen "becomes an extension of the room".  (This is how poetic HDFSTV makes me feel.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am staying with my brother in Washington D.C. right now.  He also has a huge HDFSTV.  I watched game 4 of the world series and then the Departed.  It was awesome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy told me about his small business endeavor about a year ago.  He bought 10 HDFSTV's from a wholesaler with an american express card and put a hold on their shipments (which are free).  Then he auctioned them off on ebay got them shipped to the proper addresses fo' free and made a profit of $1000 on each tv unit on the difference of sale price.  Maybe I will do this and keep one for myself.  Or somebody will give one to me for Christmas.  Either way, I really hope it happens.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/watching+high+definition+flat+screen" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i272.photobucket.com/albums/jj197/largemoney/ELECTRONICS/TELEVISION/SHARP/SHARP46INCH.jpg" border="0" alt="watching high definition flat screen Pictures, Images and Photos"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cool, Huh?  &lt;br /&gt;arx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-1156932876945686023?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1156932876945686023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=1156932876945686023' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1156932876945686023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/1156932876945686023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/10/all-i-want-for-christmas.html' title='All I want for Christmas'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-7009251984779533417</id><published>2008-10-10T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T23:49:41.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NIGHT OF MYSTERY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/glow%20in%20the%20dark" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i271.photobucket.com/albums/jj145/yamey_/Tattoos/Bones_.jpg" border="0" alt="GLOW IN THE DARK Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been spending the past few months in New York.  You can imagine all the great people and events you cross paths with in a city like this.  I've been working on an album here, which i just completely finished this past tuesday.  One of my new friends, Luke Stettner,  invited rollin and I to a performance he was holding for 20 people only.  We had no idea what to expect and showed up promptly at 8 as we were instructed.  I had just come from the mastering house with the ONLY existing  copies/audio files of the new album. We were waiting in a stairwell with the other 18 people waiting to be instructed about what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"EVERYONE PLEASE HAND US YOUR BAGS and PUT THESE BLINDFOLDS ON"&lt;br /&gt;said 2 women who looked like psychic twin sisters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;most people cooperated and passed each bag one by one until it reached the two women.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DON'T EAT THAT PASTRY IN MY BAG.  I WENT ALL THE WAY TO THE UPPER WEST SIDE TO GET THAT FOR MY WIFE"&lt;br /&gt;said some guy in a puffy jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rolled my eyes at him and kept my mouth shut, even though I had 3 months of work in my bag, I knew it would be ok. &lt;br /&gt;Like your friend is gonna invite you to his performance just so he can steal your shit and rummage through your bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the two women guided groups of 4 people into a completely dark room.  We all had to hold hands and form a single line.  Once everyone was in the room, we took the blindfolds off.  The only thing we could see was a circle of glow in the dark X's.  We all wrapped around in a circle and were instructed to sit on an X. We had no idea who we were sitting next to.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"PASS THIS AROUND"&lt;br /&gt;said someone who emerged from the center of the circle, speaking to someone a few spots down from where i was sitting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to anticipate which direction the object was coming from.  The person to my left whispered&lt;br /&gt;"I'M GONNA PASS YOU THIS THING NOW.  IT"S REALLY HEAVY"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did pretty much the same thing for the person to my right.  An operatic vocalist started to sing from out of no where.  It sounded like he was improvising and focusing on small embelishments over and over.  Occasionally a drum would be heard.  The vocalist and the drummer were also slowly exchanging positions in the room.  It's crazy how much your other senses kick in when one is disabled.  Not only was I sensing what the musicians were doing, but I was taking in a lot of INTENSE SMELLS.  I smelled CHINESE FOOD, GREASY HAIR SMELL, SOMEBODY'S BURP, BUBBLE GUM and GARLIC to list off a few.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I accepted it was going to be a smelly time, I started to imagine how everyone was working together to keep this 20 lb object moving around the circle. The person to my left and myself had a good thing going.  i could practically guess right when she was going to pass it to me based on the prior experience of her handing it to me each time.  We had  a rhythm, it was magic.  NOW, the person to my RIGHT was a completely different story.   They took no interest in finding a groove, i practically had to smack he/she on the shoulder every time it came around.  In fact, I almost sprained my wrist passing it along to them because they weren't paying attention.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i finally  whispered in their ear&lt;br /&gt;"CAN YOU GET WITH IT HERE. I ALMOST SPRAINED MY WRIST"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The situation with my right side friend did not improve.  It was weird.   Anyways, after about 25 minutes of trying to anticipate what was going to happen, the music stopped and the ladies took everyone out of the room one by one.  I didn't mind that there wasn't an explosive ending to the suspense.  In fact, i appreciated being tricked into waiting that long for something to happen only to realize my focus had completely shifted to the mystery of everyone's cooperation in the dark.  I did get a peak at who was sitting next to me when i got back out into the hallway.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After  most everyone had left, those of us remaining went out for chinese food.  I explained my experience regarding the person to my left and the person to my right to my friend in charge of the night. I gave him a description of the person who wasn't pulling their weight (sitting to the right of me).  He smiled sheepishly, laughed  and said :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OH.  THATS  DANELLE.  SHE"S DEAF"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-7009251984779533417?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/7009251984779533417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=7009251984779533417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/7009251984779533417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/7009251984779533417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2010/02/night-of-mystery.html' title='NIGHT OF MYSTERY'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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://i271.photobucket.com/albums/jj145/yamey_/Tattoos/th_Bones_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-2047495310404524501</id><published>2008-10-07T05:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T06:20:04.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>G. Ramsay</title><content type='html'>I only recently discovered celebrity chef Gordon Ramsey (of Kitchen Nightmares).  Oddly enough I first found him in the states right before I left for the UK this last week and when I arrived in London, I saw him on every other billboard and tv commercial. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I have been told he used to be a professional soccer player and after a horrible injury he decided to become a celebrity chef.  I think it appears as a strange career shift, but somehow inspiring.  He also manages to tie his 2 careers together by taking his shirt off in every episode of Kitchen Nightmares so people don't forget about his athletic achievements as a soccer player while forging ahead as a chef.  &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;    He is living the American dream even though he is british.  He proves that if you put your mind to something  "YOU CAN DO IT".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s83.photobucket.com/albums/j318/ladwithastick/England%20vs%20Rest%20of%20the%20World/?action=view&amp;current=71067423.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j318/ladwithastick/England%20vs%20Rest%20of%20the%20World/71067423.jpg" border="0" alt="Gordon Ramsay; David Gray"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/gordon%20ramsay/matthewp18/ramsay.jpg?o=29" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd51/matthewp18/ramsay.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good luck!&lt;br /&gt;arx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-2047495310404524501?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2047495310404524501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=2047495310404524501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/2047495310404524501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/2047495310404524501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/10/g-ramsey.html' title='G. Ramsay'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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://i83.photobucket.com/albums/j318/ladwithastick/England%20vs%20Rest%20of%20the%20World/th_71067423.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4832272323743723286.post-6404273342379177618</id><published>2008-09-28T22:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T23:26:52.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cobra Time</title><content type='html'>I was watching cable television on my jet blue flight to NYC yesterday.  I was really groggy from virtually no sleep the night before and slept from take off to mid flight.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started flipping through some channels on the complimentary in flight cable when I woke up and watched some show on Bravo where this woman with an australian accent comes into a  small town hair salon and shares her critiques with the staff and forcefully shows them how to improve the salon.  It was ok for a little bit, but then I found myself watching animal planet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a brief moment it captured my complete attention, which never happens because I dislike animals and have a hard time empathizing with them.  (i am just being honest.)   I caught a highly riveting segment of Steve Irwin searching for the perfect cobra snake to photograph.  He was wearing rustic safari clothes in the desert running around passionately  in search for "the one".  I won't say much because I want you to experience the same thing I felt when I watched it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   It was scary becasue we were experiencing great turbulence in the peaks of the man vs. snake drama and towards the end of the shot I felt a tap on my shoulder which scared the shit out of me.  I jerked in my seat and turned around to a flight attendant who had been watching over my shoulder, just as enraptured as I saying &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my god, did the snake just bite that guy?". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He apologized for scaring me and i said &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"it's cool"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; which is a completely ridiculous response considering  i hadn't felt that scared since this random gang banger drove up to my house the other day and yelled to me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DOES DEAD EYES STILL LIVE HERE?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Now that i have searched and found the scene again on youtube I am on the snakes side.  Leave the snake alone.  At first it was a bit romantic, seeing someone putting themselves in such danger for a distinct and untouchable photograph of such a powerful creature, but it just seems kind of stupid. I have been googling images of cobras and there are so many.  Steve Irwin should just cool it for a little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uWITKklxeLw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uWITKklxeLw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-6404273342379177618?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6404273342379177618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=6404273342379177618' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/6404273342379177618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/6404273342379177618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-was-watching-cable-television-on-my.html' title='Cobra Time'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-8826373317593587393</id><published>2008-09-22T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T11:27:33.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>JUST CAN'T WAIT</title><content type='html'>I am so excited for thanksgiving.  Even though it's like 2 years away, I am extra excited this year.  First off, I mean can you beat the food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I will be having a peculiar mixture of people gathering at my house for the holiday.  My parents will be coming down from MN, which should be fun for them to visit me for a change and of course my mom will cook the bird because i will mess it up if she doesn't.  Also attending will be my dear group of friends in chicago who are all British for some reason and won't fully apreciate the meal or the idea of thanksgiving, Rollin's mom and his new honorary grandma who is an author of very intense books, suggesting humans are born too soon. She is very non religious and tends to talk about her theories and beliefs very much. IN FACT, I think she will make this conversation the theme throughout the dinner....... so anyways..... and i think Rollin's biological grandma will make it too.  She is very flexible and adaptable.  She is a great singer too.  She used to be a singer on the radio. For instance when you hear a little jingle that dates back to the 50's era like&lt;br /&gt;"Double ULOL. CHICAGO", chances are you are hearing her voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also thanksgiving will mark the other side of the time warp I am about to enter. I leave for tour on Friday and will return about one week before thanksgiving.  It will feel like thanksgiving is next week practically, hence the timing of this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet you are counting the days now aren't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s55.photobucket.com/albums/g156/nikita2647/?action=view&amp;current=DSC00163.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i55.photobucket.com/albums/g156/nikita2647/DSC00163.jpg" border="0" alt="Gram Eating Thanksgiving Dinner"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. this is neither of rollin's grandma's&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-8826373317593587393?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/8826373317593587393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=8826373317593587393' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/8826373317593587393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/8826373317593587393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-cant-wait.html' title='JUST CAN&apos;T WAIT'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-3444023417549708355</id><published>2008-09-16T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T17:35:35.004-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really Had me Going. (very entertainin')</title><content type='html'>Today I started smelling a really strong gas smell in my kitchen.  I called Rollin and he was like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "call the gas company and open the windows" .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man from the company quickly showed up after I called and he gave me a speech before entering my house, but i couldn't really understand him.  i would later find out that he was telling me it would be in my best interest for him to leave at that point. i was opening a whole can of worms.&lt;br /&gt;He went straight to the furnace with this electronic sensor device and found all this stuff that needs to be changed before he can turn the gas back on.  Most items in my kitchen were not up to code.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man from the gas company was friendly and gave me good advice. He looked down into my basement as he was leaving and said "this world is falling apart". i thought that was kind of weird, but it didn't bother me.&lt;br /&gt;After the man left, I called the landlord, feeling a bit intimidated.&lt;br /&gt;He says:&lt;br /&gt;"ya know. sometimes apartments smell like gas. it's really a minor thing. i wish you would have called me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what if my house blew up though.  i mean i guess i did the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;my dad said :&lt;br /&gt;"you did exactly the right thing.  what were you supposed to do?   it smelled like gas!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i realized today that my landlord and my dad probably would disagree on a lot of things.&lt;br /&gt;i should have them both over for dinner.  that would be very entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hfc_KBC_fpU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" name="movie"/&gt;&lt;param value="true" name="allowFullScreen"/&gt;&lt;embed width="425" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hfc_KBC_fpU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-3444023417549708355?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3444023417549708355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=3444023417549708355' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/3444023417549708355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/3444023417549708355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/09/really-had-me-going-very-entertainin.html' title='Really Had me Going. (very entertainin&apos;)'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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-4832272323743723286.post-8642718709569951844</id><published>2008-09-15T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T17:27:20.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Times Start Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s133.photobucket.com/albums/q69/bigalscs3/?action=view&amp;current=100_2443.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q69/bigalscs3/100_2443.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure the title of my blog initially reads as "anni rossi is good times" but upon closer looking it is actually "anni rossis good times".  so either way really.  i like both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My summer break is coming to an end.  I am wrapping up my part time job up in Skokie, IL.&lt;br /&gt;I have been caring for an elderly woman by the name of Grace which has occupied all of my time on the weekends.  Even so, the past couple of months have been relaxing.  I even started taking an interest in decorating my new house.  I do the laundry regularly too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am headed out of town in 2 weeks time with rollin.  We are embarking on a month long tour together in the uk.  Should be fun, although i dislike being there in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i return to the states, i will tour the east coast down through georgia and back up to chicago via Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana and Ohio.  I am setting up some shows in towns i have never heard of, or never been too and this excites me very much!  be on the lookout for me if you have any interest, if not, that's fine too.   I will be traveling with Emily Lacy. She is a friend I met back in California and recently got back in touch with.  She's on the go as often as I am. We have an understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will see photos, drawings, fake letters, and genuine posts of my every day experiences over here if and when you check back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4832272323743723286-8642718709569951844?l=annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/feeds/8642718709569951844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4832272323743723286&amp;postID=8642718709569951844' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/8642718709569951844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4832272323743723286/posts/default/8642718709569951844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annirossisgoodtimes.blogspot.com/2008/09/git-ball-rolling.html' title='Good Times Start Now'/><author><name>anni rossi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11577372651990812127</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></feed>
