<?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-12698745</id><updated>2012-02-17T05:22:05.907-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You're Not in Kansas Anymore</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>133</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7884192185507991720</id><published>2009-06-05T12:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T16:23:14.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Haven't Been Writing</title><summary type='text'>So here's why I haven't been writing: I'm pregnant.At first, when I wanted to write about it, I couldn't because it was too early. And later, I just didn't feel like writing. At all. About anything. I don't know if it's simple tiredness or what, but I don't feel like doingmuch of anything. It's like all my creative energy is sapped and I can't write or finish (or even work on) any art projects. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7884192185507991720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7884192185507991720' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7884192185507991720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7884192185507991720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-i-havent-been-writing.html' title='Why I Haven&apos;t Been Writing'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4015155944633653362</id><published>2009-05-22T15:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T15:56:25.645-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Wishes</title><summary type='text'>Tomorrow is my 32nd birthday. I just got back from Paris about an hour ago (more info in the next post), so I'm a little jet-lagged and tired, but I wanted to log on to thank Drew for continuing to remember to send me birthday wishes. I'm such an old lady now! But it's nice to think fondly of you and college when I wasn't so old (or so much of a lady).</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4015155944633653362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4015155944633653362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4015155944633653362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4015155944633653362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2009/05/birthday-wishes.html' title='Birthday Wishes'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-735987786799837059</id><published>2009-04-29T17:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T20:43:35.073-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from Hibernation</title><summary type='text'>My self-imposed hiatus is over. I'm sorry I've been absent. I really have no excuse other than suckitude. So, what's happened recently?My sister had her baby in mid-March and I'm totally in love. He's soooooo cute and sweet and loveable. He was a little small (4 lbs 6 oz) but is growing and gaining weight like a champ. I went to KC to see him for his bris and now that he's close to 7 lbs he </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/735987786799837059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=735987786799837059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/735987786799837059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/735987786799837059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2009/04/back-from-hibernation.html' title='Back from Hibernation'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4323799995448657900</id><published>2009-02-05T13:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T13:55:03.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Website</title><summary type='text'>Sorry I've been MIA. Some stuff has been going on that I can't write about, but what I can write about is my new website! I finally have enough pictures up on my etsy site and I'd be so happy if you checked it out!You can either click on http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5743952 or type in jensimon.etsy. comI make handmade mezuzahs out of stained glass and enameled copper. Mezuzahs are the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4323799995448657900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4323799995448657900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4323799995448657900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4323799995448657900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-new-website.html' title='My New Website'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-6344003265500559552</id><published>2009-01-13T14:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T14:26:04.545-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Hightlight Video</title><summary type='text'>My God, it seems like the wedding posts will never end. After this one there'll be one more and that's it. Promise. Here's a link to a video of our wedding highlights. It's short (4 min) and sweet. It made Matt cry! Super cuteness.http://creativevideokc.blogspot.com/2009/01/jennifer-and-matthew.html</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6344003265500559552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=6344003265500559552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6344003265500559552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6344003265500559552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/wedding-hightlight-video.html' title='Wedding Hightlight Video'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7945366677565689439</id><published>2008-12-30T10:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T11:35:16.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stacey's Wedding Speech</title><summary type='text'>The speech my sister gave at my wedding was very sweet, but she kind of ad-libbed it so I wasn't able to post until now. We just got the video from the videographer and Matt transcribed it. Of note: Stacey's husband is also named Matt. Also of note: Matt's mom made several references to us staying in Brooklyn in her speech the night before.For those of you that don't know me, I'm Stacey. I used </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7945366677565689439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7945366677565689439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7945366677565689439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7945366677565689439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/12/staceys-wedding-speech.html' title='Stacey&apos;s Wedding Speech'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5870862838938221953</id><published>2008-12-25T17:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T17:23:22.151-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bah, Humbug</title><summary type='text'>Matt and I spent our Christmas going to see a movie and eating an excellent meal that he cooked for me. Since we're Jewish, we don't celebrate the holiday and since we don't have kids, we're not really doing anything for Hanukkah either.I don't like this time of the year. In fact, I kind of hate Christmas. For a few reasons.1) It's cold and it's only getting worse. There's a huge buildup to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5870862838938221953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5870862838938221953' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5870862838938221953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5870862838938221953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/12/bah-humbug.html' title='Bah, Humbug'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2631894817618837499</id><published>2008-12-01T14:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T14:35:12.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Matchmaking in NYC</title><summary type='text'>I have officially turned into an old Jewish lady.Here's the story: Matt and I are sitting at a small restaurant for lunch on the day after Thanksgiving. Since we're in NY, the space is so small that we're nearly at the the same table as the three guys next to us. And since I'm a busybody, I can't help but listen in on their conversation. It is seriously the strangest conversation I have ever </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2631894817618837499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2631894817618837499' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2631894817618837499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2631894817618837499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/12/matchmaking-in-nyc.html' title='Matchmaking in NYC'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4932761594921839201</id><published>2008-11-18T10:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T14:59:25.447-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Long and Winding Road Through Jen's Brain</title><summary type='text'>I hate my next door neighbors. It's heart-racing, vitriol-inducing, teenage-drama hate. When the weather is nice on weekends and often on week days, our neighbors (in their late-teens and early twenties) will gather on their stoop, sometimes to party, sometimes to drink, sometimes to cheer on racing cars or motorcycles, and sometimes just to yell and scream at each other. Unfortunately, the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4932761594921839201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4932761594921839201' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4932761594921839201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4932761594921839201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/11/long-and-winding-road-through-jens.html' title='The Long and Winding Road Through Jen&apos;s Brain'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-391015201149318696</id><published>2008-11-09T21:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T11:44:24.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Night of Fandom</title><summary type='text'>I've never been a 'team' person. What I mean is, I've never really rooted for anything or anyone. When I was in high school, I usually snuck a notebook into assemblies and cultivated active disdain for sports players and cheerleaders. I'm not a fan of any sports team and don't understand why others are. But for one night, on Tuesday, November 4th, I finally felt swept up, rooting for someone, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/391015201149318696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=391015201149318696' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/391015201149318696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/391015201149318696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-night-of-fandom.html' title='My Night of Fandom'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4589037334452918263</id><published>2008-10-29T10:37:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T17:05:44.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook Friends</title><summary type='text'>So many people have written about what Facebook, Myspace, and their ilk mean to society that I won't go down that road, but I will say I think it's so strange that I'm getting friend requests from people I haven't talked to or seen in more than a decade. Recently, my 3rd grade boyfriend, 3 friends from 6th grade, and 2 of my sister's high school friends friended me on Facebook. Why? Just because </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4589037334452918263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4589037334452918263' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4589037334452918263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4589037334452918263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/10/facebook-friends.html' title='Facebook Friends'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8555906806968031204</id><published>2008-10-19T21:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T22:03:46.383-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Wedding Present Ever (Part 1)</title><summary type='text'>If you've read my other wedding posts, you already know that my sister is pregnant, but how I found out deserves its own story.First, you need to know two things about my sister.1) She has always been tiny. I don't mean just skinny, I mean teeny tiny. Although she's only two and a half years younger than me, my friends and I used to carry her around the house as if she were a baby. I actually </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8555906806968031204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8555906806968031204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8555906806968031204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8555906806968031204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/10/best-wedding-present-ever-part-1.html' title='The Best Wedding Present Ever (Part 1)'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1136989786160905699</id><published>2008-10-06T10:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T11:56:32.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Dress EVER</title><summary type='text'>Of my mom's 17 friends who came to my wedding, three of them wore the same dress. The exact same, deep v-neck, empire-waisted, skirt of many-tiers, shimmery dress. Sure, two wore it in black and one in red, but it was such a distinctive silhouette that there was no escaping the fact that they looked like a group of backup singers on break.Skip to this weekend. Matt's firm held a retreat in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1136989786160905699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1136989786160905699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1136989786160905699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1136989786160905699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/10/best-dress-ever.html' title='The Best Dress EVER'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1290584504454564466</id><published>2008-10-01T11:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T11:35:19.662-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rehearsal Dinner Poem</title><summary type='text'>My cousin Lynn and her husband Sam have a habit of writing fun poems for people. Below is the poem they read at my rehearsal dinner. Of note: my sister's rehearsal dinner was a year earlier at the same restaurant.I came here tonightAlong with the rest of youIt's eerily similarI'm feeling Deja vuLynn, Stacey and now JenChose August to marry their spouseTheir unfortunate outcomeTheir fathers end up</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1290584504454564466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1290584504454564466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1290584504454564466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1290584504454564466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/10/rehearsal-dinner-poem.html' title='Rehearsal Dinner Poem'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3723803563701882586</id><published>2008-09-24T10:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T10:47:57.778-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Guest Blog: The Tao of My Bloody Valentine</title><summary type='text'>Need a break from all wedding, all the time? My good friend Kara is taking over to guest post. Please enjoy her amazing story about New York, karma and love.When the guy I lived with for two years got a little lost this spring and IM'd me from LA to say that I wasn't "someone he saw himself marrying," I was gutted. On my saddest days, I clung to something Thoreau once wrote: There is no remedy </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3723803563701882586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3723803563701882586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3723803563701882586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3723803563701882586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/guest-blog-tao-of-my-bloody-valentine.html' title='Guest Blog: The Tao of My Bloody Valentine'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4524596080809370832</id><published>2008-09-23T16:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T16:57:21.915-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Advice for Brides</title><summary type='text'>When people find out that you’re getting married or just got married, their first reaction is usually to say “congratulations!” The second? To offer you advice. I’ve heard so much wedding/marriage advice in the past year, but what did I learn? That you rarely hear what you really need to know. Below are my suggestions for all the future brides reading my blog.  &lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4524596080809370832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4524596080809370832' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4524596080809370832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4524596080809370832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/advice-for-brides.html' title='Advice for Brides'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5063885556610032369</id><published>2008-09-23T10:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T10:36:18.665-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm on YouTube!</title><summary type='text'>My bubble dance is famous!! Check us out at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yaetDZ08ovg</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5063885556610032369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5063885556610032369' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5063885556610032369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5063885556610032369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-on-youtube.html' title='I&apos;m on YouTube!'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3855447626817106467</id><published>2008-09-21T21:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T22:13:09.708-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Highlights</title><summary type='text'>I'm a planner and a reflector, not usually an "in-the-moment" kind of person, so I knew I'd have to be extremely conscious of trying to slow down to enjoy my wedding moment by moment. And, for the most part, I was able to enjoy watching my wedding unfold. Sure, there were a few things that flew by and I don't remember (like most of our first dance), but below are some of the many highlights I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3855447626817106467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3855447626817106467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3855447626817106467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3855447626817106467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/wedding-highlights.html' title='Wedding Highlights'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8992042580784334228</id><published>2008-09-16T15:23:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T11:55:36.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Wedding: By the Numbers</title><summary type='text'>Number of months we were engaged: 9Number of times we thought about eloping during the 9 months of wedding planning: umpteenNumber of my Bubbie's 8 married grandchildren who got married over Labor Day weekend: 3         (my cousin, my sister Stacey, and me)Number of people in the wedding: 9 (my 2 grandmothers, my parents, my sister as the                 matron of honor, Matt's parents, and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8992042580784334228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8992042580784334228' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8992042580784334228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8992042580784334228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-wedding-by-numbers.html' title='My Wedding: By the Numbers'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5471576972792131579</id><published>2008-09-15T11:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T12:10:12.565-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am the Alpha Dog</title><summary type='text'>While my sister and I have a lot of similar mannerisms, we're very different people. Our preferences were obvious quite early--when my mom used to breastfeed me, I would cry to go back to my own crib when I was full. Stacey? Just the opposite. She would cry when our mom would try to send her to her own bed. Stacey is the needy child. She is clingy. She wants a lot of attention. And she literally </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5471576972792131579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5471576972792131579' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5471576972792131579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5471576972792131579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-am-alpha-dog.html' title='I Am the Alpha Dog'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8959542547787980920</id><published>2008-09-12T21:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T11:58:47.691-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weddings Make People Crazy</title><summary type='text'>Weddings make people crazy. I posted several times about the craziness surrounding my sister's wedding last year, and even though I haven't been posting as much about the crazy for my wedding, rest assured, it's been there. There has been lots of crazy. A hurricane of crazy, in fact. And poor Matt has born much of the brunt of the crazy, causing him to cry at work on more than one occasion.I do a</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8959542547787980920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8959542547787980920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8959542547787980920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8959542547787980920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/weddings-make-people-crazy.html' title='Weddings Make People Crazy'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-548198518130565715</id><published>2008-09-12T19:51:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T19:53:09.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in NY</title><summary type='text'>Hi everyone. Sorry about the massive delay in posting, but I was busy getting married. And in Hawaii on my honeymoon! I'm back in NY now and will begin posting lots about the wedding and the trip. So, let's take a break from the regular surly, cranky Jen and enjoy glowy, married Jen for a while.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/548198518130565715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=548198518130565715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/548198518130565715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/548198518130565715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/back-in-ny.html' title='Back in NY'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8220803444369140736</id><published>2008-08-08T12:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T12:29:27.234-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mom's Fake Present</title><summary type='text'>I've written before about how smart and kooky my mom is, but I haven't written about how much she's totally rocking at wedding planning. She has all the traits to make her an excellent professional wedding planner: she's highly organized, creative, adheres to the saying 'it's easier to catch flies with honey' and perhaps most importantly, offers her opinion as an opinion, not as a decision.My mom</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8220803444369140736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8220803444369140736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8220803444369140736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8220803444369140736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-moms-fake-present.html' title='My Mom&apos;s Fake Present'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8342036217960331004</id><published>2008-08-07T18:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T19:02:29.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuteness</title><summary type='text'>I already need to write another post to combat the depressingness of the last post.I wrote another article for the video game website: http://www.ugo.com/lifestyle/best-date-movies/As I've written before, my dad is cute.  So cute that he not only read my post, but commented with a nom de plume to prove that I had readers.Thanks, Dad!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8342036217960331004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8342036217960331004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8342036217960331004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8342036217960331004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/08/cuteness.html' title='Cuteness'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8968986377156902388</id><published>2008-08-07T17:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T17:40:57.682-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't even know</title><summary type='text'>So I got another rejection letter from an agent today. And while it was an encouraging letter (it was personalized and he liked my funny, engaging writing), it was still a rejection letter. I've gotten rejection letters before, but this was the first one I've gotten since I reworked the entire message of the book and rewrote the entire book proposal. I know agents won't take authors if they think</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8968986377156902388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8968986377156902388' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8968986377156902388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8968986377156902388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-dont-even-know.html' title='I don&apos;t even know'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7635153650551323881</id><published>2008-07-24T12:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T12:24:52.300-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Professional Thank You Note Writing</title><summary type='text'>My mom called me today to tell me this and I thought it was funny enough to post.We had a bridal shower in KC on Sunday for my relatives and my mom's lady friends. I knocked out my thank-you notes that night and sent them out. Well, apparently they were AMAZING because my mom's friend Mary called her today to say that my thank you note was so wonderful, so well-written, so lovely, that she was </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7635153650551323881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7635153650551323881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7635153650551323881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7635153650551323881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/07/professional-thank-you-note-writing.html' title='Professional Thank You Note Writing'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5294865087967898810</id><published>2008-07-11T11:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T11:52:29.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Dreaming of A Catty Wedding</title><summary type='text'>I remember my dreams almost every night. They are whole experiences fraught with emotion, vivid colors and graphic details. So, like I said, it's no surprise that I'm having dreams upon dreams about the wedding. But a few days ago I had the weirdest wedding dream ever, maybe even the weirdest dream I've ever had.In the dream, I learned that Matt had been cheating on me. With a female cat. Who got</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5294865087967898810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5294865087967898810' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5294865087967898810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5294865087967898810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-dreaming-of-catty-wedding.html' title='I&apos;m Dreaming of A Catty Wedding'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2175470569076163176</id><published>2008-07-03T12:20:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T19:01:41.641-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First World Problems</title><summary type='text'>Personal space is at a premium in New York City, a fact that I've tried hard to adjust to. After all, I grew up in the Midwest, where closets are as big as NYC bedrooms and garages are bigger than entire apartments.In my more than 7 years here, I've grown more accustomed to the necessity of the space constraints, but what I don't understand is when people don't take advantage of the space they </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2175470569076163176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2175470569076163176' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2175470569076163176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2175470569076163176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/07/first-world-problems.html' title='First World Problems'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4844731428036597653</id><published>2008-07-01T11:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T12:33:18.637-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Escpae From Wedding Details</title><summary type='text'>I don't want you to think that I'm not looking forward to my wedding. I am. I'm excited about it and think it'll be great. I'm just trying to not think about it as the Be All End All Event of My Life.But, I'm ready for wedding planning to be over for one big reason--the dreams. I'm so sick of the wedding anxiety dreams I have every. single. night. Last night I was in my wedding dress when I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4844731428036597653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4844731428036597653' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4844731428036597653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4844731428036597653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-escpae-from-wedding-details.html' title='No Escpae From Wedding Details'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5990215217109115656</id><published>2008-06-26T15:23:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T09:13:20.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Anxiety</title><summary type='text'>I don't usually have a problem with sleeping--I'm one of those people who can take naps, fall asleep on airplanes, and fall back asleep after the cat races through the apartment at 6am. Lately, however, I've been laying awake at night, going over lists in my head, thinking about the massive amount of shit I have to do for my clients and my wedding, and all the writing I'm not doing. So, last </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5990215217109115656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5990215217109115656' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5990215217109115656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5990215217109115656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/wedding-anxiety.html' title='Wedding Anxiety'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2431814594335160400</id><published>2008-06-06T10:22:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T09:54:05.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Labels and Love? Comsumption Overload</title><summary type='text'>The Long Island Bat Mitzvah blogging has been interrupted by all SATC all the time. Yes, I saw the SATC movie yesterday. My friend Kara works at HBO where they offer free screenings of their movies and premiers of their shows in the company theater. Since I make my own schedule now, watching a movie at 12:30 in the afternoon seemed perfectly appropriate.Think I have opinions? You bet I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2431814594335160400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2431814594335160400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2431814594335160400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2431814594335160400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/labels-and-love-comsumption-overload.html' title='Labels and Love? Comsumption Overload'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-116451665328379686</id><published>2008-06-04T12:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T12:55:24.138-04:00</updated><title type='text'>SATC is for Everyone!</title><summary type='text'>I know I need to write about the Bat Mitzvah party, but I had to write this post.When people read my post about why I hate Carrie Bradshaw, they often think that also means I hate Sex and the City. I don't. While I think the Carrie is (among other things) immature and selfish, there are many aspects of the show I like. I can relate to the friendships, the dating and the love of New York City. And</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/116451665328379686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=116451665328379686' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/116451665328379686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/116451665328379686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/satc-is-for-everyone.html' title='SATC is for Everyone!'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3328417309599827857</id><published>2008-06-02T08:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T21:13:50.512-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough with the hair already</title><summary type='text'>It's not like I'm one of those people who doesn't like compliments; in fact, I like being told that I look nice or am talented or whatever. What I don't like and what makes me extremely uncomfortable is when people compliment me on weird things. I'll back up.Like I mentioned in my last post (and will elaborate on in my next post), I went to a Bat Mitzvah party yesterday. Matt's cousin's daughter </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3328417309599827857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3328417309599827857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3328417309599827857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3328417309599827857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/enough-with-hair-already.html' title='Enough with the hair already'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7640540084635997238</id><published>2008-06-01T21:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T21:41:53.449-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hangover at 9pm</title><summary type='text'>I have a hangover. It's 9 pm. This is what happens when you get drunk at 3 pm. Ugh. I NEVER drink during the day. And by never, I mean I've probably gotten drunk during the day maybe a half a dozen times. It's because it's always the same--I have a few drinks, then I fall asleep and wake up all groggy and gross and grumpy. When I feel better tomorrow, I'll write about the INSANE Bat Mitzvah party</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7640540084635997238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7640540084635997238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7640540084635997238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7640540084635997238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/hangover-at-9pm.html' title='Hangover at 9pm'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2661098485071989659</id><published>2008-05-24T10:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T10:51:03.218-04:00</updated><title type='text'>31 is Starting Grumpy</title><summary type='text'>Hi. It's Saturday. I woke up at 8 am this morning because my nose was leaking (I was literally dreaming about Kleenexes) and I had to pee. After taking care of these problems, I crawled back into bed, hoping to fall back asleep. But instead of the task at hand, I was deterred by the parade going down my block.It was a parade, right? I mean, I could hear the drums, but wait, only the drums. And it</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2661098485071989659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2661098485071989659' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2661098485071989659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2661098485071989659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/31-is-starting-grumpy.html' title='31 is Starting Grumpy'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3640415945786470235</id><published>2008-05-23T09:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T10:05:34.937-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to ME</title><summary type='text'>Today's my 31st birthday. I'm no longer merely 30nothing--I'm firmly in my thirties.I'd feel better about it if I, well, felt better. I can hardly breathe and they started the pounding outside my windows at 8:15.However, I did receive the customary family birthday greetings--both my dad and my sister sang "Happy Birthday to you, you smell like a monkey, and you look like one too."Stacey's version</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3640415945786470235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3640415945786470235' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3640415945786470235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3640415945786470235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to ME'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-6524620330419989859</id><published>2008-05-22T12:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T12:33:54.067-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Headache + Construction = Unhappy Jen</title><summary type='text'>Like I mentioned in an earlier post, I quit my job to do freelance PR and writing work. The great part about working from home is well, working from home. You can wear whatever you want, watch tv, and not battle the commuting crowds on the overcrowded trains.The bad part? Making sure you structure yourself, loneliness and, like today--if you're sick and can't work, you don't get paid. I've had a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6524620330419989859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=6524620330419989859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6524620330419989859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6524620330419989859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/headache-construction-unhappy-jen.html' title='Headache + Construction = Unhappy Jen'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3953044098412355803</id><published>2008-05-20T11:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T12:42:48.329-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Update: It's Broken</title><summary type='text'>This weekend Matt and I went to St. Louis for my friend Paige's wedding. It was great to see her and our other friends, but the real excitement happened before the wedding, at lunch.My sister Stacey lives in St. Louis with her husband. I haven't been to visit her since she moved there, so I thought the trip would be a good opportunity to see her apartment and the city. Matt and I arrived around </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3953044098412355803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3953044098412355803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3953044098412355803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3953044098412355803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/update-its-broken.html' title='Update: It&apos;s Broken'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5681561058450366191</id><published>2008-05-14T22:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T22:26:20.762-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Haven't I Been Posting?</title><summary type='text'>And I have yet another comment on my post about how I hate Carrie Bradshaw. It's the post that keeps on giving! I love it. I love how people find me. And I suck that I'm not writing more posts to retain my new readers. I'm sorry new and old readers! I'm sorry I've been so lax with posting.It's not like I don't have the time to write. I do. I quit my job.It's actually really exciting--I'm starting</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5681561058450366191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5681561058450366191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5681561058450366191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5681561058450366191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/why-havent-i-been-posting.html' title='Why Haven&apos;t I Been Posting?'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5217399700935104464</id><published>2008-04-12T09:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T10:00:28.452-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Update: We're Rewarded for Matt's Crankiness</title><summary type='text'>So, I should tell you what happened after Matt emailed the French Culinary Institute. (See two posts down for a refresher).The day after Matt fired off his uber-cranky email, he got a response. Not an automated response. Not some intern writing to placate him. No, no. None other than the owner and founder of the French Culinary Institute wrote him back. She apologized that we were offended and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5217399700935104464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5217399700935104464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5217399700935104464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5217399700935104464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/04/update-were-rewarded-for-matts.html' title='Update: We&apos;re Rewarded for Matt&apos;s Crankiness'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3411302776870916219</id><published>2008-04-07T23:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T23:08:37.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Newest Column is Cute and Corny</title><summary type='text'>My new column is up: http://www.ugo.com/ugo/html/article/?id=18325&amp;sectionId=198My mom said it was "cute," while my dad declared it to be "corny."</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3411302776870916219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3411302776870916219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3411302776870916219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3411302776870916219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/04/newest-column-is-cute-and-corny.html' title='Newest Column is Cute and Corny'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2270316394900779678</id><published>2008-04-02T20:53:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T21:26:53.072-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm an Official Writer!  (With a Silly Father)</title><summary type='text'>I'm an official freelance writer! I'm a Sex and Relationship writer for UGO.com -- check out my first article at: http://www.ugo.com/lifestyle/sex-workout-guide/I sent the link to my parents, warning them they might not want to read it. But they did. Below is the email my dad sent back to me.wow. I have one daughter speaking about how to eat healthy, and the other writing, with pictures yet, on </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2270316394900779678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2270316394900779678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2270316394900779678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2270316394900779678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-official-writer-with-silly-father.html' title='I&apos;m an Official Writer!  (With a Silly Father)'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7526212727953621607</id><published>2008-03-16T22:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T10:12:27.761-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Fiance is a Cranky Old Man</title><summary type='text'>Matt and I joke about how we're going to be cranks when we're old, but truth be told, we're already cranky.What started our latest round of grumpiness? A commercial on the Food Network. If you're not familiar with the programming on the Food Network, there's currently a horribly offensive commercial they're running in the NYC area for the French Culinary Institute. In it, a chef talks about how </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7526212727953621607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7526212727953621607' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7526212727953621607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7526212727953621607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-fiance-is-cranky-old-man.html' title='My Fiance is a Cranky Old Man'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2014018239534086598</id><published>2008-03-11T22:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T22:26:23.725-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah. Whatever, Etc.</title><summary type='text'>One of the great things about having a public blog is that people around the world can stumble onto my writing simply by searching for things like "I hate Carrie Bradshaw" or "virginity underwear." The flip side is that by having a public blog, anything I write is public. I can't write about my frustrations at work or all the horrible stress with wedding planning (Matt's family felt that a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2014018239534086598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2014018239534086598' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2014018239534086598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2014018239534086598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/03/blah-whatever-etc.html' title='Blah. Whatever, Etc.'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2126267194869562022</id><published>2008-02-18T22:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T11:58:36.007-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Marrying a Mouse</title><summary type='text'>When it comes to Valentine's Day, I'm nothing if not practical. I think it's ridiculous that flowers and dinners cost three times as much on February 14th than on any other day and I don't care about celebrating the Hallmark holiday in any sort of fashion. That said, of course it's nice to have some sort of acknowledgment. A flower. A dessert. A card. Something.We had plans to go to dinner on </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2126267194869562022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2126267194869562022' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2126267194869562022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2126267194869562022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-marrying-mouse.html' title='I&apos;m Marrying a Mouse'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3270855428311561518</id><published>2008-02-04T12:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:55:03.575-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Small, Gay World</title><summary type='text'>Last week I spent the longest two days of my life at a conference in Denver. While it turned out to be professionally useless, I did make a new friend. Tom was at my lunch table, and over rubbery chicken and over-salted mashed potatos, we learned that not only did we have a mutual acquaintance, but we lived in the same neighborhood and on the same block. We chatted both days of the conference and</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3270855428311561518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3270855428311561518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3270855428311561518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3270855428311561518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-small-gay-world.html' title='It&apos;s a Small, Gay World'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-6156430700562425771</id><published>2008-01-28T15:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:46:58.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How My Boyfriend Became Part of My Family</title><summary type='text'>When Matt and I started dating, I knew better than to tell my mom right away. After five years in New York, this Midwestern girl had earned such a (well-deserved) reputation as a prolific dater that my mom instituted a rule whereby I wasn't allowed to tell her about a new guy unless we had gone on at least three dates. So, after getting all the jerks and idiots out of my system, I started dating </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6156430700562425771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=6156430700562425771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6156430700562425771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6156430700562425771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-my-boyfriend-became-part-of-my.html' title='How My Boyfriend Became Part of My Family'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1465530591214105928</id><published>2008-01-18T18:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:48:05.075-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anonymous, You Suck</title><summary type='text'>I love when people comment on my blog. It's so great to see your thoughts and know you're reading my writing.However, I wasn't too thrilled today to see Anyonmous' comment to my July post about why I hate Carrie Bradshaw. Of all things, that post inspired someone to write: "ur a bitter bitch!" Well, Anyonmous, I'm a lot of things. Sure, I'll give you that I'm bitter and a bitch. But at least I'm </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1465530591214105928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1465530591214105928' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1465530591214105928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1465530591214105928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/01/anonymous-you-suck.html' title='Anonymous, You Suck'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4327234873605130866</id><published>2008-01-15T17:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:48:28.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dumbest Thing I've Ever Heard</title><summary type='text'>I don't like stupid people. More than mean people or rude people, I vehemently dislike stupid people. Although my passive-aggressive nature is boiling up with this post, I am compelled to write this because, hyperbole aside, this story is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.A co-worker was sharing her triumph with my boss over her ability to talk down a mattress salessman from his initial price of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4327234873605130866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4327234873605130866' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4327234873605130866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4327234873605130866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/01/dumbest-thing-ive-ever-heard.html' title='The Dumbest Thing I&apos;ve Ever Heard'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-6951065612811529485</id><published>2008-01-08T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:48:44.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mother, the Enabler</title><summary type='text'>I talked to my mom for over an hour last night about work, the wedding and (wee ones? whiny ones? ugh, fine, I won't go the aliteration route) babies.I was lamenting the recent changes at my office, pondering my future there and in general."I don't want to leave," I said, "I like my co-workers and really have no interest in going somewhere else, but I'm not sure what's going to happen.""Well, you</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6951065612811529485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=6951065612811529485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6951065612811529485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6951065612811529485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-mother-enabler.html' title='My Mother, the Enabler'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7380009829780763593</id><published>2008-01-04T15:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:49:08.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Quote Ever</title><summary type='text'>I grew up with my friend Lisa; in fact, I've known Lisa since I was 22 days old. She's more like a family member than a friend and even though we've grown apart, she'll always be in my life.Lisa lives a very different life than I do. After college, she moved to Boulder where she started surveying. Basically, Lisa works "in the field" for 30 or 40 days in a row and then goes to Mexico, hikes the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7380009829780763593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7380009829780763593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7380009829780763593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7380009829780763593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2008/01/best-quote-ever.html' title='Best Quote Ever'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7203832483973491448</id><published>2007-12-16T19:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:49:33.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Most Anti-Climactic Engagement Ever</title><summary type='text'>Matt and I have been talking about getting engaged for the past 6 months. Actually, that's not really true—we've been talking about marriage and the like for nearly as long as we've known each other. When we initially dated 4 years ago, I broke up with him after 2 months because I thought he'd be the kind of person I'd marry and the idea thoroughly freaked me out at the time. Not enough to cut </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7203832483973491448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7203832483973491448' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7203832483973491448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7203832483973491448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/12/most-anti-climactic-engagement-ever.html' title='Most Anti-Climactic Engagement Ever'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3430442496957296174</id><published>2007-12-13T09:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:49:46.677-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Famous! (kind of, sort of, okay fine, not really at all)</title><summary type='text'>As a favor to a friend of a co-worker, I agreed to be a "model" for a segment on Good Morning America to promote gifts under $30. Although not quite as ridiculous as my Judge Judy experience, my morning was very silly.If you watch the video on the right side, you can see me starting at 2:45http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/HolidayTheme/story?id=3979038Oooh, shoes! Oooh, a scarf. And no, I didn't get to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3430442496957296174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3430442496957296174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3430442496957296174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3430442496957296174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-famous-kind-of-sort-of-okay-fine-not.html' title='I&apos;m Famous! (kind of, sort of, okay fine, not really at all)'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-746975311693339316</id><published>2007-12-06T14:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:49:59.867-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I'm a Grinch</title><summary type='text'>I don't just hate Christmas because I don't celebrate it. Oh sure, I'm jealous that I miss out of the decorating and crafty opportunities, the cookies, the Rockwelian nostalgia of it all. But mostly, I hate Christmas because of the build-up.When you have 6 or 8 weeks of excitement and music and parties and food and slow days at work, Christmas is the highlight to the beginning of winter. However,</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/746975311693339316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=746975311693339316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/746975311693339316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/746975311693339316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/12/why-im-grinch.html' title='Why I&apos;m a Grinch'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1599325046515799375</id><published>2007-11-15T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T23:50:11.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Skeletons in the Closet. Literally.</title><summary type='text'>It's been two weeks since Halloween and I haven't yet posted about my plans. Actually, I haven't posted about anything. Sorry!Anyway, I haven't posted about what I did for Halloween because I didn't do anything for Halloween. This was the first year that I didn't dress up, getting all excited, planning my costume and party route for days or weeks or months. Boo.So instead of talking about how I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1599325046515799375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1599325046515799375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1599325046515799375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1599325046515799375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/11/skeletons-in-closet-literally.html' title='Skeletons in the Closet. Literally.'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3873689524919975420</id><published>2007-10-23T11:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T11:20:35.032-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Congratulations, You're Having a Blog!</title><summary type='text'>For the past two weeks, I've been planning how to write a blog post about the latest co-worker to leave my office. When I sat down to write it, it quickly turned into a ranty rant peppered liberally with variants of 'fuck' ('fuck;' 'what the fuck;' and, of course, 'fuck you'). Once I figure out how to write it without sounding like a crazy person, it'll be up--in the meantime, let's talk about </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3873689524919975420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3873689524919975420' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3873689524919975420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3873689524919975420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/10/congratulations-youre-having-blog.html' title='Congratulations, You&apos;re Having a Blog!'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4564864577694641541</id><published>2007-10-13T12:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T12:53:24.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Soup Samples on the Boardwalk</title><summary type='text'>2 posts about Craziness At Work coming soon, but I just wanted to write a little post while I'm in California. I'm in California! One of Matt's childhood friends is getting married in Monterey tonight, so we flew out early to make a little vacation out of it.I know every state, hell, every city has its own special food identity, but Monterey's is a little odd. We walked down the wharf on Thursday</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4564864577694641541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4564864577694641541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4564864577694641541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4564864577694641541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/10/soup-samples-on-boardwalk.html' title='Soup Samples on the Boardwalk'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3099833234075657957</id><published>2007-10-06T20:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T19:08:17.748-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kids These Days</title><summary type='text'>Darci, a friend from college, and I were talking yesterday about the latest employee who left my office (much more about this in an upcoming post) and it afforded me the opportunity to launch into yet another rant about "the kids these days."What's going on with kids these days? They don't want to start at the bottom and work their way anywhere! They have such a sense of entitlement! They think </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3099833234075657957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3099833234075657957' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3099833234075657957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3099833234075657957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/10/kids-these-days.html' title='The Kids These Days'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8180206912904514290</id><published>2007-10-04T11:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T20:41:44.249-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Aunt Jen</title><summary type='text'>My boyfriend Matt's family has been nothing but warm and welcoming to me. His parents, aunts and uncles, 2 brothers and their wives, cousins and their husbands and all the kids have treated me like family since the first time I met them. They greet me with hugs and kisses and go out of their way to make be feel inlcuded.So much so, that when Matt got a cold last weekend and told his brother we </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8180206912904514290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8180206912904514290' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8180206912904514290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8180206912904514290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/10/aunt-jen.html' title='Aunt Jen'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-195145879977199220</id><published>2007-09-26T12:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T11:15:29.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PR Firms Suck My Ass</title><summary type='text'>There are a lot of people who don't work while at their jobs. I used to be one of those people; in fact, during the first five years I lived in New York, I wrote the first several drafts of my as-yet-unpublished book at my dayjobs. How did I get away with not working at work? I had low-level, low-paying, boring, mind-numbing, unimportant jobs. I work at my job now because it's interesting and in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/195145879977199220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=195145879977199220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/195145879977199220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/195145879977199220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/09/pr-firms-suck-my-ass.html' title='PR Firms Suck My Ass'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2499093466350240617</id><published>2007-09-20T14:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T14:26:33.815-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sister's Reaction to My Blog Posts About Her Wedding</title><summary type='text'>holy shitballs! I just read your blog. I'm so flattered i could fart (and i did)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2499093466350240617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2499093466350240617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2499093466350240617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2499093466350240617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-sisters-reaction-to-my-blog-posts.html' title='My Sister&apos;s Reaction to My Blog Posts About Her Wedding'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8660113093201626770</id><published>2007-09-17T10:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T11:30:02.014-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Late-night Texts</title><summary type='text'>On Wednesday night, I got a text message at 11:04 pm wishing me a "healthy and happy new year." It was fine since I was still awake, and it was nice since Wednesday night marked the beginning of the Jewish New Year (for someone completely non-religious, I certainly talk a lot about Jewish stuff), but the note was from a number that I didn't recognize.Who on earth was sending me a "Happy New Year"</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8660113093201626770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8660113093201626770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8660113093201626770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8660113093201626770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/09/late-night-texts.html' title='Late-night Texts'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1741966051025740178</id><published>2007-09-12T14:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T11:47:02.404-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Wrong with my Intern?</title><summary type='text'>I wanted to title this post "What's Wrong with People?" but really, that would be the headline for most of my posts, so instead of focusing on people, I'm focusing on my intern. What the hell is wrong with her?My intern is 23, a little older than most interns. My office manager hoped her age would bring with it some maturity. Not so much.So the intern, "Maria," is dating a 30 year-old. I think </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1741966051025740178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1741966051025740178' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1741966051025740178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1741966051025740178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/09/whats-wrong-with-my-intern.html' title='What&apos;s Wrong with my Intern?'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7712282460183658858</id><published>2007-09-10T16:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T16:54:21.577-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Guest Blogger = Matt, the Boyfriend</title><summary type='text'>In order to provide a little different perspective on the recent wedding festivities, Jen has been gracious enough to turn her blog over to me for a spell. As Jen may or may not have mentioned, her sister Stacey has a few hippy-like tendencies. It's also possible that her new husband has a few himself. We had some advance notice that some of those tendencies might appear in the ceremony, but even</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7712282460183658858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7712282460183658858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7712282460183658858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7712282460183658858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/09/guest-blogger-matt-boyfriend.html' title='Guest Blogger = Matt, the Boyfriend'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7855277705822839764</id><published>2007-09-07T13:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T23:27:09.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Anniversary to ME!</title><summary type='text'>One year ago today I started this blog. Yes, it was about 6 years too late. Yes, I haven't updated it as much as I could have or I should have. But, I've enjoyed writing it and I hope you've enjoyed reading it.Thanks SO much for checking in to read about my trip to Belize, move to Brooklyn, new job, and all my of my random rants.-Jen</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7855277705822839764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7855277705822839764' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7855277705822839764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7855277705822839764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/09/happy-anniversary-to-me.html' title='Happy Anniversary to ME!'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8490006519387725294</id><published>2007-09-06T13:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T13:58:45.098-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Speech at the Wedding *or* OMG So Much Cuteness!!!</title><summary type='text'>As Stacey's older sister, I've tried to teach her a few things, one of which was about weddings. When we were little we would act them out. I would be the rabbi, she was the bride, and the cat would play the part of the groom. Matt, you make a much better looking and more compliant groom.I can't believe my baby sister's getting married. Well, is married. I'm only 2 1/2 years older than Stacey, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8490006519387725294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8490006519387725294' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8490006519387725294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8490006519387725294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-speech-at-wedding-or-omg-so-much.html' title='My Speech at the Wedding *or* OMG So Much Cuteness!!!'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5459955253428667853</id><published>2007-09-04T22:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T16:56:01.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>By the Numbers: My Sister's Wedding</title><summary type='text'>Number of people in the wedding ceremony: 27 (the bride, the bride's parents, the groom, the groom's parents, the rabbi, a maid of honor, a matron of honor, a bridesmaid, a best man, 2 groomsmen, 2 flower girls, a junior flower girl, 2 ring bearers, 2 friends of my sister's who sang a song, 7 of my sister's friends who each recited a blessing.)On a scale of 1-10, how cheesey I thought the wedding</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5459955253428667853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5459955253428667853' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5459955253428667853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5459955253428667853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/09/by-numbers-my-sisters-wedding.html' title='By the Numbers: My Sister&apos;s Wedding'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1283204673929346482</id><published>2007-08-30T09:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T22:04:29.454-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Censoring Sucks</title><summary type='text'>So, if you're looking for an update to the wedding  craziness, you'll have to check back in after September 3rd. At the request of my mother, I've removed the last two posts. Not to worry--both the posts and a third, update-to-the-update post, will be here after the wedding. My mom just didn't want anyone (relatives) finding my snarky commentary.More to come.UPDATE: the last two posts are back up</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1283204673929346482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1283204673929346482' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1283204673929346482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1283204673929346482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/08/censoring-sucks.html' title='Censoring Sucks'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-6359138920646321979</id><published>2007-08-28T19:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T22:03:26.434-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Craziness Update</title><summary type='text'>Thanks so much to everyone who commented on my last post! You'll be unsurprised, I'm sure, to learn that there are already updates to the wedding craziness. Once again, we'll work up to the craziest story.Update about Aunt Mary, the aunt who told my sister she would throw her a pool party, then asked Stacey to only invite her "closest" friends, creating an A-list and B-list of friends and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6359138920646321979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=6359138920646321979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6359138920646321979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6359138920646321979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/08/wedding-craziness-update.html' title='Wedding Craziness Update'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1809051443314804399</id><published>2007-08-26T23:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T22:02:56.717-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weddings Make People Crazy</title><summary type='text'>As many of you know, my sister Stacey is getting married. In fact, she's getting married one week from today. My little sister! A wife! So strange. But, by far the strangest part of this whole experience is how people (i.e. relatives) act when there's a wedding in the family. It seems to make everyone crazy.I'm the only one who got nicer. I spent 11 hours calligraphy-ing (?) the envelopes for my </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1809051443314804399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1809051443314804399' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1809051443314804399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1809051443314804399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/08/weddings-make-people-crazy.html' title='Weddings Make People Crazy'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-295399883581602999</id><published>2007-08-24T10:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T10:09:30.583-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Virginity Underwear</title><summary type='text'>Last night I went to dinner with a friend and Matt went to dinner with a friend. While I was waiting for him to get home, I changed out of my work clothes into a sexy pair of red, lacy underwear. You know, one of those frilly things that you don't actually wear for real, only change into, oh, about 10 minutes before you end up taking them off again?As I'm not a big fan of lingerie, I probably own</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/295399883581602999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=295399883581602999' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/295399883581602999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/295399883581602999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/08/virginity-underwear.html' title='Virginity Underwear'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1218705513024991385</id><published>2007-08-13T20:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T11:25:48.818-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Glad You're Home but I Wish You Were You</title><summary type='text'>I don't go out anymore. It's kind of strange, since one of the primary reasons I moved to New York was to drink and dance and party. I kind of feel like I've grown out of it--it's not that fun, I feel like shit afterward, and I can't get anything done the next day. Plus, you know, I'm Old and practically married and living in Brooklyn.But on Saturday I was bored. And pumped from a good workout at</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1218705513024991385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1218705513024991385' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1218705513024991385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1218705513024991385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/08/im-glad-youre-home-but-i-wish-you-were.html' title='I&apos;m Glad You&apos;re Home but I Wish You Were You'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-836954314764574366</id><published>2007-08-08T12:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T19:28:43.605-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock of Love Rocks My World</title><summary type='text'>My boyfriend Matt teases me about my reality-show viewing, mainly because I like to deny the fact that I watch reality tv. For a long time, I ranted and railed against the medium--why would people watch this? I cried. It's not real! Who are these people? I hate them! As reality show mania swept the nation, I scoffed at mainstays like Survivor and American Idol.The show that broke me? Project </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/836954314764574366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=836954314764574366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/836954314764574366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/836954314764574366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/08/rock-of-love-rocks-my-world.html' title='Rock of Love Rocks My World'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-6663828621526877543</id><published>2007-08-06T16:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T13:42:10.193-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Your Mom Shouldn't Say</title><summary type='text'>Swearing was never a grand taboo when I was growing up. Sure, my parents didn't want me peppering my language with 'bad' words, and my dad said cursing was "unladylike," but my parents never punished me for swearing. How could they when they, my relatives, and even my Bubbie punctuated their conversations with curse words?So, even though I've heard my mom swear, there are still certain things I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6663828621526877543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=6663828621526877543' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6663828621526877543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6663828621526877543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/08/things-your-mom-shouldnt-say.html' title='Things Your Mom Shouldn&apos;t Say'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1822430998104479979</id><published>2007-08-01T20:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T21:05:43.687-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bachlorette Parties Suck My Ass</title><summary type='text'>So my sister's getting married. In 5 weeks. The past 9 months have all led up to a ceremony being held in 5 weeks. I've been dieting in preparation. Well, actually, I've been planning on dieting in anticipation. I have 9 months to lose 5 pounds! I have 8 months to lose 5 pounds! Um, now I have 5 weeks to lose 5 pounds! Hmmm. I'll work on that. During my last haircut my stylist left my hair longer</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1822430998104479979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1822430998104479979' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1822430998104479979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1822430998104479979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/08/bachlorette-parties-suck-my-ass.html' title='Bachlorette Parties Suck My Ass'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5840776076854617233</id><published>2007-07-31T22:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T22:09:12.871-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Course I Don't Want Them--They're Sour</title><summary type='text'>My sister is just getting around to reading my blog. "Some of your posts are funny," she said, "but some are sad.""What do you mean?" I asked."Well, like that one about your intern--it's very 'sour grapes.'""Yeah?""Yeah, like I didn't accomplish what I wanted to--those grapes are sour, but fuck you, I don't want them anyway."</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5840776076854617233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5840776076854617233' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5840776076854617233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5840776076854617233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/07/sour-grapes-are-delicious.html' title='Of Course I Don&apos;t Want Them--They&apos;re Sour'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7800205105808122083</id><published>2007-07-29T15:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T17:19:32.952-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Have We Met Before?</title><summary type='text'>So this weekend, I went to a conference in Chicago. During the conference, 5 or 6 women asked me if we had met before (if I went to college with them, if I was from their city, etc). No.It's common, this question. I don't know why. I don't really think I have "one of those faces;" in fact, I think my looks are fairly distinctive. I'm short and slim with green eyes; short, curly red hair; and a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7800205105808122083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7800205105808122083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7800205105808122083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7800205105808122083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/07/have-we-met-before.html' title='Have We Met Before?'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5510997597459174195</id><published>2007-07-13T12:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T12:38:35.628-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Like My Intern</title><summary type='text'>My intern just announced that "It's so great being 21!" We heard all about the lead-up to her birthday last week; the drama surrounding the birthday dinner; and now, the joy of being able to frequent any bar in the city.I don't like my intern. It's not that I dislike her personally-- she seems like a fine person and is a good employee.What I don't like is that she's loud. She has an opinion about</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5510997597459174195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5510997597459174195' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5510997597459174195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5510997597459174195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-dont-like-my-intern.html' title='I Don&apos;t Like My Intern'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4700830044340320769</id><published>2007-07-08T22:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T22:59:51.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Abby Has Gone Crazy</title><summary type='text'>Sometimes, I love Dear Abby. Why do I read this outdated, saccharine advice column you ask? It's not because I think her advice (which is quite liberal--in a recent column, she urged a woman to accept her cross-dressing boyfriend since we all have our own kinks) to her flailing readers will offer some insight into my own life. It's because I think she's going crazy. And it's awesome.DEAR ABBY: I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4700830044340320769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4700830044340320769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4700830044340320769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4700830044340320769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/07/dear-abby-has-gone-crazy.html' title='Dear Abby Has Gone Crazy'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7219829434641804799</id><published>2007-07-02T11:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T11:54:09.479-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Carrie Bradshaw</title><summary type='text'>I never watched Sex &amp; the City while it was on HBO due in no small part to the fact that I didn't have HBO. Since its syndication on TBS and the CW, however, I've managed to catch up on the pop-culture powerhouse that swept the nation. And while I can understand why people like the show, I don't understand why they like the main character. I don't. In fact, I hate Carrie Bradshaw.Let's ignore the</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7219829434641804799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7219829434641804799' title='67 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7219829434641804799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7219829434641804799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-hate-carrie-bradshaw.html' title='I Hate Carrie Bradshaw'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>67</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-6565232417363235237</id><published>2007-06-29T10:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T10:44:19.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need a New Project</title><summary type='text'>After working on it for 7 months, I've finally finished the counted cross-stitched wall hanging I made as a wedding gift for my sister. Except for the personalization changes, this is what it looks like: http://craftyneedle.com/products/full/5275.jpgTo make a counted cross-stitch piece, you literally count the number of stitches you need to make in each row or column based on your pattern. This </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6565232417363235237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=6565232417363235237' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6565232417363235237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6565232417363235237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-need-new-project_29.html' title='I Need a New Project'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5600572397713886605</id><published>2007-06-26T17:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T22:32:01.062-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes it's Not the Crazy Looking Ones You Need Worry About</title><summary type='text'>Since I've been in New York for over 6 years now, I've grown accustomed to the craziness of the city. In the past week alone, I've seen a woman putting a cigarette out on her tongue, an Asian man in his 40s standing on Ludlow dressed only in a polo shirt and tighty whities, and a middle-aged man in the vet's office sporting a tattoo on this calf of his dog's head and name.It's easy to forget that</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5600572397713886605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5600572397713886605' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5600572397713886605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5600572397713886605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/sometimes-its-not-crazy-looking-ones.html' title='Sometimes it&apos;s Not the Crazy Looking Ones You Need Worry About'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-760141751814605468</id><published>2007-06-24T18:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T21:11:31.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a New Yorker Twice Over</title><summary type='text'>There are certain milestones one passes on the way to becoming a New Yorker: having a tourist ask you for directions (and being able to answer correctly), becoming blase about seeing rats on the subway, and not only knowing which pizza place is the best, knowing the "correct" way to eat it.Thus far, my experiences with the legal system had included threatening to sue Sea World when, at 10, I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/760141751814605468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=760141751814605468' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/760141751814605468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/760141751814605468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/im-new-yorker-twice-over_24.html' title='I&apos;m a New Yorker Twice Over'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7622109763850859902</id><published>2007-06-21T16:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T08:33:43.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating Sucks My Ass (Part 3)</title><summary type='text'>After 2 emails from me, this is how the editors of Jezebel.com described me: kinda smart, literary, delusions of grandeur drunk slut type.I couldn't have said it better myself.http://jezebel.com/gossip/i-hope-everything-else-is-going-well-for-you%27-i.m-living-in-philly-now%27%27/crap-email-from-a-dude-iii-271080.php</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7622109763850859902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7622109763850859902' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7622109763850859902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7622109763850859902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/im-so-obvious.html' title='Dating Sucks My Ass (Part 3)'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-3254142976592615340</id><published>2007-06-18T16:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T20:52:48.512-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When Did My Dad Turn into a 12 Year-Old Girl?</title><summary type='text'>Like many people's parents, mine aren't too tech savvy--I'm pretty sure my mom thinks that punctuation isn't allowed on email. Although I've sent my mom a few text messages before, I've never texted with my dad even though he has one of those fancy-pants brick-like cellphone/camera/computer/appointment book/kitchen sink kind of phones.I talked to him briefly yesterday, Father's Day, but between </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3254142976592615340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=3254142976592615340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3254142976592615340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/3254142976592615340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-dad-texts-like-hes-12-year-old-girl.html' title='When Did My Dad Turn into a 12 Year-Old Girl?'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5900041320751980045</id><published>2007-06-17T16:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T18:29:51.344-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bubbie is Not Politically Correct</title><summary type='text'>My Bubbie is one of my favorite people in the world, but although she's a somewhat liberal thinker (she urged my cousin to have a baby with her boyfriend when she thought a marriage would never happen), she is not politically correct. She uses a Yiddish word for black (with derogatory connotations) for black people and her word for gay people? Fairies. Oh, Bubbie. But the woman's 89 and lives in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5900041320751980045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5900041320751980045' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5900041320751980045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5900041320751980045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-bubbie-is-not-politically-correct.html' title='My Bubbie is Not Politically Correct'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7481272321205413079</id><published>2007-06-13T23:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T12:43:36.034-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No really, I fucking hate flying</title><summary type='text'>This is my fourth post about flying. About how much I hate flying. As you might have surmised, I really fucking hate it. But it's not the actual flying part that I hate--it's the lead-up, the nonsense, the bullshit. What I hate are the indiscriminate rules.I don't mind following rules if they serve a purpose, if they are in place for a valid reason, namely safety or efficiency, but bureaucratic </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7481272321205413079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7481272321205413079' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7481272321205413079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7481272321205413079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-really-i-fucking-hate-flying.html' title='No really, I fucking hate flying'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8175628038524945675</id><published>2007-06-11T13:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T17:14:14.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Letter to My Neighbors *or* Really? An Air-horn?</title><summary type='text'>To the neighbors on my otherwise quiet, family-centered, tree-lined Brooklyn block,Wow. Really? An Air-horn?You know, when I first moved in, I must say I was surprised by the late-night gatherings on your stoop when your chattering and cigarette smoke would waft upward, invading my third-floor bedroom. Every few days I would curse your arrogant youth, your forgiving parents, and my street-facing </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8175628038524945675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8175628038524945675' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8175628038524945675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8175628038524945675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/letter-to-my-neighbors-or-really-air.html' title='A Letter to My Neighbors *or* Really? An Air-horn?'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2317826314136185287</id><published>2007-06-08T10:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T11:34:17.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating Sucks my Ass (Part 2)</title><summary type='text'>About a year and a half ago I went on a few dates with this guy. Many things were promising about Travis: he was good-looking, he was artistic (oooh, a photographer, not just a bartender who liked taking pictures), and he was from KC (we peripherally knew each other in high school, and I liked the idea of my dating life coming full-circle).Unfortunately, I knew early on that things were not meant</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2317826314136185287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2317826314136185287' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2317826314136185287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2317826314136185287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/dating-sucks-my-ass-part-2.html' title='Dating Sucks my Ass (Part 2)'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-6188678819361440496</id><published>2007-06-06T13:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T10:14:03.678-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Soul Sucking Work</title><summary type='text'>Here's another teaser from the book. I debated between naming this "Soul Sucking Work" or "My Day-Job is eating my Soul"I know a lot of people have shitty day jobs--here are little glimpses into my first godawful dayjob in New York where I worked at a newspaper, taking ads over the phone and doing data-entry.Soul Sucking WorkA man calls me to ask the current price for placing his required ad.“It’</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6188678819361440496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=6188678819361440496' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6188678819361440496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/6188678819361440496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/soul-sucking-work.html' title='Soul Sucking Work'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8543321574287072695</id><published>2007-06-04T11:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T11:56:29.949-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking Thin</title><summary type='text'>A teaser from my book:Thinking ThinI keep trying to “think thin,” but I’m not really sure what that means.  I think I should be thin—that makes sense—but I’m not.  Thinking I should weigh less gives me the excuse to eat more. Or crappy food.  Oh, I can eat that cookie—I’m thin!  I’m thinking thin.  But, this isn’t working at all.  I should think fat. I am fatter than I want to be—I must behave </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8543321574287072695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8543321574287072695' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8543321574287072695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8543321574287072695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/06/thinking-thin.html' title='Thinking Thin'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1162167838734455211</id><published>2007-05-29T16:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T14:06:30.684-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Best. Birthday Present. Ever.</title><summary type='text'>This weekend I received the Best. Birthday Present. Ever.Some of my past presents from boyfriends have included: wire cutters, metal shears, flowers, dinners, a previously done painting, cartoons cut out with funny captions, cds, and a bag full of of about 80 blue blow pops. Before this weekend, I thought the blow pops, a 20th birthday gift from, oddly enough, Drew, the subject of my last post, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1162167838734455211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1162167838734455211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1162167838734455211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1162167838734455211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/05/best-birthday-present-ever.html' title='Best. Birthday Present. Ever.'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7956146159218799878</id><published>2007-05-23T10:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T17:57:23.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Three-Oh</title><summary type='text'>Happy birthday to me!I'm not going to write about how much I don't want to be turning 30. Depressive ranting about unacheived goals and general failure are no fun to read, so instead, I'll write about an ex-boyfriend from college, Drew, who never forgets my birthday.My relationship with Drew was one of those fairly undefined things--while we were together I don't think I ever called him my </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7956146159218799878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7956146159218799878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7956146159218799878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7956146159218799878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/05/big-three-oh.html' title='The Big Three-Oh'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-8978796601360885450</id><published>2007-05-21T22:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T22:53:38.349-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Don't Understand (part 1)</title><summary type='text'>How is it that women, nay businesswomen, leave office bathrooms in complete disarray? The bathroom on the floor of my office features unflushed toilets, urine splattered seats, and overflowing trash cans. Why? Who does this?Not only are we on the sixth floor, but bathroom is locked--no one is wandering off the street to foul up the bathroom. Last week, someone posted a sign saying "Safety is </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8978796601360885450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=8978796601360885450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8978796601360885450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/8978796601360885450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/05/things-i-dont-understand-part-1.html' title='Things I Don&apos;t Understand (part 1)'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-4927894021634890245</id><published>2007-05-18T17:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T17:25:39.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating sucks my ass (part 1)</title><summary type='text'>Before Matt and I got together in July, I dated a lot and I came to several conclusions, the most important being: dating sucks my ass.Here's an email I sent about a guy I went on three dates with last year.For our third date, I headed to his place in Greenpoint. Why he thought it would be ok for me to come over is beyond me. You know how some people decorate in themes? Well, his thematic </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4927894021634890245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=4927894021634890245' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4927894021634890245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/4927894021634890245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/05/dating-sucks-my-ass-part-1.html' title='Dating sucks my ass (part 1)'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2376479717782486719</id><published>2007-05-15T12:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T12:31:43.755-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8 Days and Counting</title><summary type='text'>Remember when I said I was looking forward to my 30s?Because it's the time when so many women seem to reach their stride and come into their own? That by the time they reach their third decade, women have gotten over dating jerks and are marching down their career path. That they've learned the best way to apply make-up, the clothes that flatter them most, and the colors that work for them?Yeah, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2376479717782486719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2376479717782486719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2376479717782486719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2376479717782486719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/05/8-days-and-counting.html' title='8 Days and Counting'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-2466597905821301721</id><published>2007-05-10T16:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T14:58:33.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Did I just get hit on?</title><summary type='text'>I think one of my clients hit on me today at a Very Important Luncheon, but I'm not really sure. I still can't really tell when an adult is flirting with me. An adult? What's wrong with me? I'm nearly 30 (horror of horrors--less than 2 wks!) and I still don't consider myself or my contemporaries adults. Since this line of thinking could very well lead to its own post (or book), I'll return to the</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2466597905821301721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=2466597905821301721' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2466597905821301721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/2466597905821301721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/05/did-i-just-get-hit-on.html' title='Did I just get hit on?'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-7316892612106909381</id><published>2007-04-27T16:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T16:02:19.174-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairy Tales on the MTA</title><summary type='text'>There are many things that annoy, irritate, and infuriate me about riding the subway:Being able to hear someone’s music through their headphonesWhen people sitting in the middle seat don't move over once an end seat becomes availableSmelling people's disgusting foodCrazy people who smellCrazy people who proselytizePeople who sell things--whether it's batteries, candy, or themselves by begging, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7316892612106909381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=7316892612106909381' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7316892612106909381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/7316892612106909381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/04/fairy-tales-on-mta.html' title='Fairy Tales on the MTA'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-5449643518997862136</id><published>2007-04-26T20:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T17:33:41.629-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I hate Brooklyn</title><summary type='text'>There are many reasons why I get annoyed at my new borough (babies! so many babies! the 40-60 min train ride instead of walking to work), but I think the most irritating thing about Brooklyn is store hours. Case in point: As I was walking back from the gym tonight (go me) I passed a vintage store. The hours? Mon-Wed "By chance." By chance? I'm not impressed by your whimsy. You own a store--you </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5449643518997862136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=5449643518997862136' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5449643518997862136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/5449643518997862136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/04/why-i-hate-brooklyn.html' title='Why I hate Brooklyn'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12698745.post-1952792941760503380</id><published>2007-04-03T15:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T12:06:17.102-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moms are So Smart</title><summary type='text'>I'm at the age where I'm finally able to appreciate my mom, rather than rebel against her/ be annoyed at her/need things from her. And although I've noticed that I'm channeling her words and mannerisms more and more, I'm not yet just like my mother.Which wouldn't be such a bad thing since sometimes she's so smart.A girl I was friends with in high school and college called me in August to tell me </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1952792941760503380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12698745&amp;postID=1952792941760503380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1952792941760503380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12698745/posts/default/1952792941760503380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourenotinkansasanymore.blogspot.com/2007/04/moms-are-so-smart.html' title='Moms are So Smart'/><author><name>Jen</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gjp14Q6ISjM/SNEtwDb50JI/AAAAAAAAAAw/5C1sepgC464/S220/jensassy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
