<?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-4448171633572827925</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:59:03.852-04:00</updated><category term='4 x 4'/><category term='flip flops'/><category term='festivus'/><category term='shorts'/><category term='casual fridays'/><category term='blackberry'/><category term='jobs'/><category term='loans'/><category term='serenity'/><category term='outside illumination'/><category term='funky'/><category term='economy'/><category term='now'/><category term='laptops'/><category term='christmas'/><category term='summer dresses'/><category term='careers'/><category term='smell'/><category term='worklplace'/><category term='santa'/><category term='life happens'/><category term='t-shirts'/><title type='text'>With that said....</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-164341475976971736</id><published>2009-01-29T10:25:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T14:17:47.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it Inevitable?</title><content type='html'>With every passing day I am forced to evaluate myself and the way I look at things.  Let me back up, over the past year maybe longer I have become increasingly more cynical and have lost faith in people. NOT one person or a group of people, but all people, every breathing member of society or at least what is left of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday there is a chance for another person to do something nice or say something polite to another person, a stranger even, and that chance goes right down the drain.  Is it so hard for us to be polite to each other?  This is something that vexes me very much on a daily basis. I hold a door, no response, push the elevator button for someone, no response, move out of the way of someone in a hurry, no response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems the only response I get is when I decide to let said person know that I did hold that door open "your welcome!" or pushed that button "hey, I got that for you don't hurt yourself!" and my most recent "really, is it that hard to say thank you douchebag!" Recently I have been getting more and more angry by the day.  Then a couple of weeks ago it really started to kick into gear; after all the doors not held open and all of the ignoring as if I am the doorman, or a simple good morning I started to notice more bitterness and just a simple disregard for other people by 95% of the people that I come across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks ago I am on my normal 7:02am train into NYC (God i hate the LIRR, but that's a different blog for a different day) and the person next to me, we will call him Richard or Dick for short, receives a phone call, okay I think to myself "lets not freak out, I am sure this phone call wont last long." Fast forward 10 minutes and Dick doesn't speak English, which I know because he is still on the phone and speaking at loud volumes so now I am fully awake and pissed. "Shh!" "You can't be serious, this is a joke!" are all phrases shooting out of my mouth at loud volumes to this person that is sitting less than six inches away from me, but somehow ignoring me UNTIL I look directly at him and say "Are you f'n serious dude its 7am hang up the f'n phone and have some respect for the people around you!" This statement finally gets his attention and he stops speaking in foreign tongues for 5 seconds and looks directly at me, staring blankly with this look of confusion and goes back to his conversation. So now this is it, I am going to jail! I will take his cell phone smash it in 200 pieces and feed it to him.  Well I didn't feed it to him, I figured any jack ass that gives me that look of pure confusion doesn't have a clue and I am sure one day something bad will happen to him anyway and I am okay with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example #2: Again on the train (starting to see a pattern here, no wait it happens everywhere) a giant sneeze sneaks up on me, not the mousy kind, the loud, I hope this isn't messy type. So I let loose this huge, non messy, but super loud uber sneeze and what do I hear next? Crickets, f'n crickets. Now this was a 5:40pm train that has not left the station left, its full, but quiet and not one person even whispered a God Bless You or gazoontite , nothing. So of course me being the ever friendly non sarcastic lovable person follow up the crickets with "Really, nothing, thanks everyone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago a plane went into the Hudson and people were falling all over each other to help out it is an amazing thing to witness, but why do we have to wait for the most extreme cases of tragedy and heroism to be people, I mean real people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was venting about my morning yesterday to someone who knows me very well, probably too well and finally she said to me "you cannot let this stuff get to you and ruin your day, if you keep doing this you will be a miserable person!" After hearing this my mind starts cranking, is she right?  Am I, are we all destined to just give up and not be nice to others, has being polite gone the way of VCR's, Home Phones, Family Vacations, good music and Cd's?  Is it inevitable that we are all going to end up bitter strangers who only help others when its beneficial to us?  Has opening a door for a women or giving up your seat to a pregnant woman just simply vanished? If so how do we get it back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully and shockingly I have no idea what the next step is.  Please add comments, maybe someone reading this has and idea or suggestion?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-164341475976971736?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/164341475976971736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=164341475976971736' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/164341475976971736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/164341475976971736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2009/01/is-it-inevitable.html' title='Is it Inevitable?'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-2134188912949176556</id><published>2008-12-17T11:12:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T11:36:38.555-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='4 x 4'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blackberry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='outside illumination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='laptops'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='santa'/><title type='text'>My list to Santa</title><content type='html'>Dear Santa,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my wish list of gifts I need you to STOP putting under the Christmas Tree:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;New technology: if I dry hump one more person from behind because they stop short to read an email there is sure to be a warrant out for my arrest&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Briefcases/ Laptop cases on wheels: these are not dogs on leashes people, they are basically tripwires that leave a path of destruction behind without the owner even taking a glance back&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Trucks to soccer moms: seriously does every mom on LI need a truck, it is unbelievable. Santa if you do decide to bring a new 4 x 4 please brings some common sense because that seems to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappear&lt;/span&gt; once the keys in the ignition. It is spelt T-R-U-C-K not T-A-N-K.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Outside Illumination: Now, I love Christmas lights and I can even understand Halloween lights, but seriously I have seen Valentines Day, Thanksgiving and 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Th&lt;/span&gt; of July lights (not fireworks) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Black Jeans: These are making a comeback, I am very confused.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tight jeans on guys: Really, who? I need to know how is telling these guys that its a good look, holy crap - it even looks painful.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Music now: Okay with the risk of sounding old, has anyone listened to the radio lately, I think not. Because if people were listening, the awful sounds coming from my radio would cease to exist.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-2134188912949176556?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/2134188912949176556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=2134188912949176556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/2134188912949176556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/2134188912949176556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-list-to-santa.html' title='My list to Santa'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-7003495455990410533</id><published>2008-12-17T10:52:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T11:11:57.368-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='serenity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festivus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='now'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='economy'/><title type='text'>"A Festivus for the Rest of Us"</title><content type='html'>It took me 3 1/2 months to finally start up this blog again. Alot has happened and we are ready to move forward so here's to a more consistent blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the holidays approach and the economy takes another turn downwards it is easy to spot the stress on everyone's faces. Questions start to creep up into everyone's mind "can I afford this?" "How will I pay for this?" "Will I still have a job after the new year?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are all simple answers in the following order no, you can't and hopefully! Bottom line nobody knows for sure what will happen and I am pretty certain most don't even know how or what has happened. All that most know is something bad has happened and it needs to stop. The only difference between Upper Class, Middle Class and lower class is that the upper class can get a loan, the middle might be able (but it will be a horrid process) and lower class won't get any credit. That is it, that's the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all have been affected by the economy today some have lost jobs, some cannot get the house they want and others cannot get the house they want. We are all in this together and the only way out is to pick each other up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the spirit of the holidays and all that is good waiting around the corner please everyone take a deep breath and then state "SERENITY NOW!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY FESTIVUS!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-7003495455990410533?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/7003495455990410533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=7003495455990410533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/7003495455990410533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/7003495455990410533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/12/festivus-for-rest-of-us.html' title='&quot;A Festivus for the Rest of Us&quot;'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-9164198556215077450</id><published>2008-07-28T10:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T11:51:14.171-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Summer has always represented change in one way or another.  When we were young and school closed for summer vacation it was the best time of our lives, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; have a care in the world.  The only stress we had to endure was should we go to the pool or beach? what was for lunch or at worst our friends were allowed to stay out a little later than we were at night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we got to our teens the summer months represented something totally different.  Some of us had summer jobs and we also started looking to September a little sooner than usual because not only were there changes in our lives happening, but there was a definite change in the way girls started to look from the end of the school year to the beginning of next school year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During our many months of summer vacations throughout our childhood one thing remained constant; and that one thing was a simple formula to judge our summer vacations. Every summer will be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;evaluated&lt;/span&gt; based on the previous summer and will be remembered by just simply asking the question "Remember summer 05' or that road trip in summer 06' etc, etc..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well fast forward through all of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bbq's&lt;/span&gt;, beach days and vacations we have taken in the past because this summer has been one of big change.  This summer as most of my friends settle into married life in their recently moved into houses and as backyard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bbq's&lt;/span&gt; are replaced with weddings and engagement parties I am curious to know the answer of the most popular question in my head "What's next?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In July two &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;significant&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;occurrences&lt;/span&gt; have taken place that will profoundly shape my memories about Summer '08. First I am now an uncle to a beautiful baby girl and one of my best friends and a current roommate is moving out of state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;occurrence&lt;/span&gt; has me running a gauntlet of emotions from absolute joy to absolute sadness and each day is different, sometimes each hour is different. So as I see my friend off as she starts her new life I can't help but wonder what the rest of the summer of '08 will bring?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-9164198556215077450?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/9164198556215077450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=9164198556215077450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/9164198556215077450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/9164198556215077450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/07/summer-has-always-represented-change-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-6674463312534308765</id><published>2008-07-03T13:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T15:49:12.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4th of July</title><content type='html'>The 4t&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;h&lt;/span&gt; of July is viewed by many as just another holiday and this year especially because of the 3 day weekend. I challenge anyone and everyone who happens to read this to research and find out just one actual reason we celebrate 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did this myself this year and honestly it made a world of difference. I do view it a little different and it has enhanced my pride in this country, well a little bit, it still doesn't make me feel warm and fuzzy about the direction we are heading.  Moving forward,  a little research can go a long way, so find out what the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July really means and that just may help you understand a little bit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;about&lt;/span&gt; history because you will never fully understand what lies ahead if you have no idea what is behind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Independence&lt;/span&gt; day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-6674463312534308765?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/6674463312534308765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=6674463312534308765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/6674463312534308765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/6674463312534308765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/07/4th-of-july.html' title='4th of July'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-6399964646620226245</id><published>2008-07-01T10:59:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T11:51:20.583-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='casual fridays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='careers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worklplace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer dresses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='t-shirts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jobs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life happens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shorts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flip flops'/><title type='text'>Your wearing that to work?</title><content type='html'>Let me preface this entire rant by stating I am typing away in my shorts, t-shirt and sandals and yes I have the same dress code at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up my father gave me advice and one piece of advice that completely stuck with me (maybe not this second because I love wearing shorts and sandals) was "Your not dressing for the job you have; you are dressing for the job you want!" At first this made no sense to me, my thoughts were that when I got out of school I would land my dream job and that would be it for the rest of my life, oh to be that naive again. Well as you all have learned life happens and sometimes you have to make changes and sometimes jobs are just that, they are not your career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working in NYC you tend to see many more people from all walks of life, young, old, small, big, skinny, fat, bald, hairy etc, etc. Unfortunately along with this I tend to come across too many people that have no idea how to dress to step outside, never mind how to dress for the workplace. This is something that has really gotten to me over the past couple of years. More and more especially in the summer you see people, mainly women, sorry ladies but it's true, wearing very inappropriate clothing to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many examples that make me shake my head daily. For instance, although it can get warm, we are not on the sun, it is not 110 degrees, it is not appropriate to wear a dress that looks like its meant to cover a bathing suit at the beach, in other words its way to short and low to be wearing to work. Okay here is another one; this one is a little disturbing and again sorry to pick on the ladies, what is with the leggings, I personally like them, but they aren't for everyone! and probably should only be worn to work with a long shirt, in other words cover your butt! or if it looks like your butt is eating your pants, you probably shouldn't squeeze yourself into them, if you have to cut them off at the end of the day, don't wear them to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as men go button your shirts, we don't need to see the Raul the pool guy look, if you don't want to shave your chest that's is totally understandable, it is not something for everyone, but please cover it up, it looks like you guys are wearing sweaters under your button down shirts. Also sleeves should always be worn to work, you are not on vacation and it is never appropriate to wear ripped sleeves or sleeveless shirts at work, and this goes for the tank tops also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last for this blog, there are so many things i want to write, but with the risk of offending many people I will leave this as is. Please anyone considering sandals, flip-flops or open toe shoes just make sure you are not going to make others sick. Clean yourself up a little, maybe even a pedicure, and this is for both the guys and ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember - you never know who you are going to meet and what opportunity that could lead to "Dress for the job you want next, not the one you have now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidebar: Bare feet in the office is just gross!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-6399964646620226245?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/6399964646620226245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=6399964646620226245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/6399964646620226245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/6399964646620226245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/07/your-wearing-that-to-work.html' title='Your wearing that to work?'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-8499547388267622187</id><published>2008-06-06T15:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T16:21:31.526-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funky'/><title type='text'>What happened to people?</title><content type='html'>Everyday I am forced to ask the simple question of "What the hell happened to people?" And not just this person or that person, basically I would venture to say the number I am talking about is roughly 80%.  What am I talking about? 80% is the percentage of people I come across everyday when I really start to question how some people even make it out of the house at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did it become okay to smell, I must have missed the memo.  Everyday I sit on a train into NYC and next its to the Subway downtown and finally to the street and the reverse to go home. During this time period, lets call it a 10hr window were using here, I must sit next to, walk by, stare at or just smell from a distance at least 20 people who haven't showered or need to shower again, and by again I mean immediately because they smell like an old shoe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up I never minded showering and as an adult I have come to realize that being smelly is bad.  I have never had trouble meeting girls, new friends or even new jobs and why? I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; say its because I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; smell, but I will say none of that would have happened if I did smell.  A simple shower is all we are talking about here, not even, put the hose on, run through a sprinkler, jump in a fountain (NYC is full of them)  fake it by putting some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;deodorant&lt;/span&gt; on or c&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ologne&lt;/span&gt; at least try and mask the smell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do people who smell not know they smell, could that be the reason so many people are walking around just reeking?  Maybe we should all make a point to let people know that they are a little stinky, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; have to yell at them in front of others, making them feel bad about themselves.  I suggest you pull them to the side and let them know funky is bad, give them a bar of soap and send them on their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please feel free to share a story about somebody who smells like they have died?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-8499547388267622187?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/8499547388267622187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=8499547388267622187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/8499547388267622187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/8499547388267622187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-happened-to-people.html' title='What happened to people?'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-58748581918205675</id><published>2008-05-22T11:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T16:29:46.880-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Next Stop Wrigley Field</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;At 7:30am on Saturday May 17&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; I boarded a plane on the way to The Windy City, Chicago. I was very excited at the chance of spending some time in Chi town since I have never been and I was going on a bachelor party for one of my closest friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Plane landed around 9:30am and we headed directly to the hotel to drop our bags. For those of you who have been to Chicago and braved the train system, than you understand how slow and painful the trains are from the airport, I am not sure if there was construction or a track problem, but this was by far the slowest train I have ever been on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;With the bags dropped it was to our first order of business the 12:30 game at Wrigley Field for the Cubs/ Pirates game. A bunch of us have never been to a game at Wrigley so we thought we would do it right. We reserved our spots (months in advance) at Wrigley Rooftops &lt;a href="http://www.wrigleyvillerooftops.com/"&gt;http://www.wrigleyvillerooftops.com/&lt;/a&gt;,which are the buildings adjacent to Wrigley along Waverly Ave. The rooftop is definitely a great experience and I recommend everyone does this at one point. Anyway we grabbed our bleacher seats at the roof and proceeded to drink (all included in the package) and enjoy the sun, apparently for any of you who have never been to Wrigley, it is apparently on the sun at least the bleachers on the roof were, but a little sunburn never hurt anyone.&lt;br /&gt;After the game the festivities continued with some good music and alcohol at The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cubby&lt;/span&gt; Bear &lt;a href="http://www.cubbybear.com/wrigleyville/index.html"&gt;www.cubbybear.com/wrigleyville/index.html&lt;/a&gt;, this was a great place, , very large and great music for a little afternoon drinking. I personally love to get out in the afternoon, it makes me feel like I am on vacation. After The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cubby&lt;/span&gt; Bear we hit a couple of local bars including a bar called Mother's II. Very chill bar, mellow crowd with and wait for it.... Nintendo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wii&lt;/span&gt; Bowling on a 60 inch projection screen. Too me this was a perfect ending to a great day, video games and beers what could be better than that one? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;As far as Chicago I can offer you this brief synopsis: Wrigley Field is a really cool place, any town you see fathers and sons, husbands and wives, and groups of friends all wearing their favorite teams apparel and heading to the park because its game day - it really is a great thing to see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The city itself is like a mini NYC without all of the cars, not sure if it was the time of year, but at 11am in the middle of downtown Chicago there were very little cars on the road. On Sunday morning at 11am it felt as if the city had been evacuated, it was strange. I do suggest a trip to Chicago for anyone who had never been and for myself because I was only there for 24 hrs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-58748581918205675?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/58748581918205675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=58748581918205675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/58748581918205675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/58748581918205675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/05/at-730am-on-saturday-may-17th-i-boarded.html' title='Next Stop Wrigley Field'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-2158255053287155827</id><published>2008-05-16T14:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T16:14:17.752-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Penn Station is the epicenter of hell!</title><content type='html'>As a commuter and avid NYC fan I have come to the conclusion that Penn Station represents all that is wrong with NYC.  This goes beyond the usual complaints of people talking loud on their cell phones or someone sitting next to me, although there are many other open seats on the train.  This is something that makes me shake my head and realize why some people from Long Island do not want to take the train to NYC for work or pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A typical morning has already begun and I arrive at Penn Station at 7:40am, up the stairs and into the sea of people who refuse to pick their heads up in fear that they would have to actually acknowledge another human being, rather than just bump into them and mutter words under their breath to the tune of  "excuse you!"  I have personally stopped stepping out of the way of these "floor watchers," and have come to the conclusion that maybe a little shoulder bump is all someone will need to get their morning going a little bit faster than the new everyday blend from Starbucks will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assuming I have made it through the initial gauntlet of people tuning left as I turn right it is on to the next obstacle, which might be the most annoying, mind boggling and just plain dangerous item on the agenda - the backpack/luggage/ lunch bag/ briefcase on wheels, that's right - ON WHEELS. Because when I think about the best place to put my $2000 laptop, I think "why not strap some wheels on it and drag it through Penn Station." I might not be the quickest person in the room, but doesn't the word backpack represent a pack on your back?  When your forced to wheel a backpack around it might be time to rethink what your bringing into work.&lt;br /&gt;***SIDEBAR - is there nothing better than watching someone wrestle with their wheeled luggage which has gotten stuck in the turnstile - this is something that brings a smile to my face each and every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings us to the final item of danger on the agenda today and something I am guilty of, but it is something that drives me crazy everywhere, but mostly in Penn Station where time is essential.  I wasn't aware that there are designated spots for people to stop and read or text away - some of these locations are: on every staircase, the escalators, the entry to the subway car or just about any high traffic area in Penn Station. To me this is amazing if some of these people would put the Blackberry in their pockets and walk normal speeds they would be at work a 1/2 hour quicker and would be able to read the email without causing or receiving any major injury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to recap Penn Station is full of rude, anti social, slow walking, laptop wheeling, text messaging/emailing, stopping anywhere commuters who act like tourists making it one of the worst places to be in NYC!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-2158255053287155827?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/2158255053287155827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=2158255053287155827' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/2158255053287155827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/2158255053287155827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/05/penn-station-is-epicenter-of-hell.html' title='Penn Station is the epicenter of hell!'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448171633572827925.post-7884558299420439001</id><published>2008-05-14T11:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T11:54:30.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My first attempt at this..</title><content type='html'>Welcome to anyone and everyone reading my new blog.  This is my first attempt at blogging with help from my good friend &lt;a title="http://alliezog.blogspot.com" contenteditable="false" href="http://alliezog.blogspot.com/" unselectable="on"&gt;alliezog.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;, shameless plug she will love it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little about me:  As a former publicist and advocate of sarcasm/cynicism there are many, many, many things that catch my attention on a daily basis that I will document here. My hope is that you, the reader, will love or hate my blog, but my overall goal is to generate debate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEBATE: a discussion, as of a public question in an assembly, involving opposing viewpoints: a debate in the Senate on farm price supports. A formal contest in which the affirmative and negative sides of a proposition are advocated by opposing speakers. Deliberation; consideration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that said lets start the debate!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448171633572827925-7884558299420439001?l=trippstar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/feeds/7884558299420439001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448171633572827925&amp;postID=7884558299420439001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/7884558299420439001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448171633572827925/posts/default/7884558299420439001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trippstar.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-first-attempt-at-this.html' title='My first attempt at this..'/><author><name>Trippstar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00346689891343327215</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CRkj6g_6Q5Q/SYHJ0fv-w0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/NsGjnF64rRg/S220/m_b234058fb84d33fbb64be38a0d30e609.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
