<?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-1862950771693633605</id><updated>2011-07-07T20:40:27.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Take</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-8540293917884055229</id><published>2009-07-14T19:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T20:10:22.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home With Baby</title><content type='html'>At long last, we were able to come home with Nolan today. The Nurses and Doctors were satisfied enough with his 4% weight gain on Monday that they felt comfortable letting us go home. That's where it all begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know deep down that this is one of the happiest times of my life right now. There is nothing I like more than sitting with Nolan while he's asleep or while he's awake taking in the world around him, but I can't help but have these thoughts of horror. I worry constantly that he's not eating enough, or that we're feeding him too much, or the wrong way. This poor guy has absolutely no way to communicate with us other than cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I can remember, I've always felt and acted very grown up. I always pictured myself getting married, buying a house and having kids, etc..., but I never really understood what a daunting task that raising a child really is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself on one of the first nights absolutely distraught over something that had happened with Nolan and all I could do was cry. I'm trying my best to be there in every way for Natasha, but there are times when I wish I could be somewhere else being someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't read this and think that I'm going off the deep end here. This is something that we will surely get through and most assuredly look back and laugh at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we finally figured out a system of feeding him. It didn't always work to perfection, but it rarely strayed too far from the plan. We got him home this afternoon and started a feed shortly thereafter, everything went fine. The second time we tried to feed, he started giving us problems and we could not figure out what the cause was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He eventually calmed down and ate for a short amount of time. These are the type of feeds that scare me, the ones that seem to be going so well just to come to a short and unexpected end. I begin stressing immediately about his food intake and start picturing in my head the nights when he wasn't getting any food at all and all we could do was cry with him because we didn't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that seems to stay with me is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;overwhelming&lt;/span&gt; thought that if I don't make the right choices I could ruin him forever, that is what I think scares me the most. There is such an emotional high and low when it comes to being a parent. I feel completely helpless when he cries and I can't figure out why, but on the flip side, I feel such a sense of relief when Natasha tells me that he has a good latch and is feeding well. It's sometimes almost too much to deal with at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Natasha and Nolan with all of my heart, I've even found some heart I didn't know I had and loved them with that too. I am just in total fear of causing irreparable harm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is truly one of the scariest and happiest moments in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-8540293917884055229?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/8540293917884055229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=8540293917884055229' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8540293917884055229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8540293917884055229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2009/07/home-with-baby.html' title='Home With Baby'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3135914317706882568</id><published>2009-07-13T09:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T10:07:28.024-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepless in Hamilton</title><content type='html'>So, it has been 3 days since Nolan was born and we haven't had a great night's sleep yet. This isn't anything unexpected as far as sleep goes, we were expecting some interrupted nights. What we weren't counting on is him staying up ALL night. We didn't get any sleep at all on Saturday night, we were up the whole time. Last night was a little bit better, but we still only managed a couple of hours each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I have been doing the last couple of days is having Diane (Natasha's Mom) come down in the morning to look after Nolan so I can go home and get some shut-eye and at the same time, Natasha doesn't have to worry about him, so she can sleep too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with this is that I feel like such a heel when I leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can handle a lot of things in a lot of different &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;circumstances&lt;/span&gt;, but for whatever reason, I can't seem to focus on being positive with Natasha &amp;amp; Nolan when I'm exhausted. I try my best to keep my absences to a minimum amount of time, I really do want to be there for Natasha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other upsetting thing that we are dealing with is Nolan's constant weight loss. To date, he has lost 10.3% of this birth weight and the Hospital will not let us go home until he can at the very least &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;maintain&lt;/span&gt; or even gain some weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This would be an easier task if it were not for a couple of problems. First, Natasha delivered via C-Section, this means that her body didn't get a chance to secrete all of the necessary hormones that signal the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;breastmilk&lt;/span&gt; to start flowing. Secondly, Nolan is absolutely miserable to try and feed late at night. He gets really restless and does little else, but cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are hoping and praying that when the Nurses weigh him tomorrow morning that he will have stopped and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hopefully&lt;/span&gt; even reversed his weight loss so we can take him home. And hopefully Natasha can start producing more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;breastmilk&lt;/span&gt; today so we can have him eating more frequently and therefore &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;theoretically&lt;/span&gt; gain some weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that the next blog I write is one telling you that he gained a bunch of weight and that he's safe and sound at home. We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3135914317706882568?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3135914317706882568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3135914317706882568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3135914317706882568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3135914317706882568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2009/07/sleepless-in-hamilton.html' title='Sleepless in Hamilton'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-6976216506041161880</id><published>2009-07-11T07:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T08:02:27.489-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally</title><content type='html'>Well, it finally happened. After 41 weeks of waiting, yesterday at 8:34am a 7lb 11oz young man came into our lives and changed them forever. Nolan Dennis Chester Cleroux is a beautiful baby that is loved by everyone he knows (and even ones he doesn't yet), especially his Mommy and Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His Daddy though is absolutely terrified. I am not the type that is easily intimidated by anyone, except Nolan. I have never really had someone that was totally and completely dependent on me for everything. About 45 minutes after he was born, the L&amp;amp;D Nurse got us to start breastfeeding, that went alright for the first try I guess. After we got into the Maternity Ward we had to feed again, this was a total disaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nolan was not able to latch correctly which was upsetting him quite a bit which in turn was upsetting us. He did nothing but cry and cry and cry and all we could do was try to get him to latch on and eat something. After the ordeal, I went for a bit of a walk as I had not seen daylight since 4:30 yesterday morning (I guess there isn't daylight at 4:30 so technically I hadn't seen it at all). When I got back up to the room the Nurse had taken Nolan to the Nursery so Natasha could get some rest. I took advantage of this time as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although Natasha could sleep, every baby in that Ward sounded like Nolan to me so every time one would cry, I would jolt me out of whatever pre-sleep I was in. Every time I heard a cry I felt the need to go into the Nursery and check on him. Every time I went though, he was happy as a clam sleeping the afternoon away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a ton of visitors yesterday, just bout everyone from either side made their way in at one time or another. Nolan was surprisingly calm for newborn being passed around countless times in a very short period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I left for the evening, Natasha decided that she needed to get up and walk around a bit. She had just gotten a C-Section less than 12 hours ago and she is already itching to get up and walk around? I guess. So, I took Nolan to the Nursery so we could do some walking in the room without disturbing him. We walked back and forth for about 45 minutes, practiced getting onto and out of a chair, into and out of bed and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the hospital around 8:30 and went home to go to bed, I was exhausted. I went to bed after sending a quick E-Mail to all of my friends and family to officially announce the birth. I was asleep before I even hit the pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up this morning and Matt (who stayed over last night) yelled down that Natasha had texted him that she needed me 'right now'. I called her in a panic thinking the worst. She said that she just wanted me to bring a few things from home and that she wanted me to help her shower. Apparently Nolan threw up last night, but is doing OK now. So, here I go for Day #2 of fatherhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-6976216506041161880?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/6976216506041161880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=6976216506041161880' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6976216506041161880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6976216506041161880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2009/07/finally.html' title='Finally'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-6927732664871627223</id><published>2009-04-25T07:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T07:26:43.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Name</title><content type='html'>We finally did it, we agreed on a suitable name for the baby. His name will be Nolan Dennis Albert &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cleroux&lt;/span&gt;. He will be named after both of our Grandfathers. We're excited that we've moved through this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;crucial&lt;/span&gt; step in the process and can now focus on getting everything ready for Nolan when he arrives in late June/early July. That's all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-6927732664871627223?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/6927732664871627223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=6927732664871627223' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6927732664871627223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6927732664871627223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2009/04/baby-name.html' title='Baby Name'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-214743471677607844</id><published>2009-04-20T09:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T09:08:17.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Roller Coaster</title><content type='html'>So, things are going pretty well for me right now. I just keep getting these days when I feel like I have become nothing but a complete failure in life. I look at the people around me that have finished school and have gone on to work at their dream job somewhere, and feel like I'm just sitting here watching life pass me by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don't feel like hanging myself off of the shower bar if that's the impression I'm giving, I just feel down sometimes, that's all. My wife has been incredible through all of this, she's been really patient and understanding when I just need some time to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, things will turn around and something will happen. I guess I just need to go out and make it happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-214743471677607844?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/214743471677607844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=214743471677607844' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/214743471677607844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/214743471677607844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2009/04/roller-coaster.html' title='Roller Coaster'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-6594132606525488477</id><published>2009-04-16T06:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T06:58:35.118-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Judge A Book By Its Cover</title><content type='html'>Have you seen it yet? On the UK version of 'America's Got Talent', Simon &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cowel&lt;/span&gt; is one of the Judges, and he's as harsh to the Brits as he is to Americans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An older lady waled onto the stage looking as out of place as anything and exclaimed that she was there to become a star. Simon, and both other Judges for that matter, laughed and joked that because she looked the way she did, there's no way that she could sound like a star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently she's never been kissed, never had a boyfriend or anything like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon 'allowed' her to sing anyways, and when she did, they kept the camera on Simon and you could actually see his mouth drop as she began to sing. She was absolutely amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she was done, the crowd roared in approval of her performance and something strange happened, every single one of the Judges apologized profusely for their preconceived notions of what she was going to sound like...even Simon. It was even funny that when the Judges were giving their apologies, they still kept the camera on Simon, he had this look on his face of sheer disbelief, that's the only way to describe it. Although he put his own little twist on it, it did seem heartfelt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've included the link to the video below, watch it and see for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luRmM1J1sfg"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luRmM1J1sfg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-6594132606525488477?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/6594132606525488477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=6594132606525488477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6594132606525488477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6594132606525488477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2009/04/never-judge-book-by-its-cover.html' title='Never Judge A Book By Its Cover'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4198697323473553475</id><published>2009-01-28T09:37:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T09:49:45.704-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally...</title><content type='html'>It has happened, after 5 years of plugging away in this business, I have finally been rewarded with my own store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Effective this coming Monday, I will take control of the Burlington North location. Now, it's a relatively new store, so it poses some real pros and cons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First the Pros:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a newer store, nicely finished.&lt;br /&gt;It's a relatively young staff.&lt;br /&gt;The previous Manager sucked, a low threshold of success&lt;br /&gt;With the growing volume being put out, that means lots of bonuses&lt;br /&gt;More money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the Cons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The staff have been notoriously lazy&lt;br /&gt;They're a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;relatively&lt;/span&gt; low volume store, only about $1,200,000&lt;br /&gt;It's a complete unknown (the people and the area)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than those few things, I think that this is going to be a really exciting time for me. I've worked long and hard for this and I've finally made it. Now it's time to start looking for that District Manager job. There's no rest for the wicked I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4198697323473553475?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4198697323473553475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4198697323473553475' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4198697323473553475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4198697323473553475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2009/01/finally.html' title='Finally...'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3210003201012331957</id><published>2009-01-12T16:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T16:59:15.269-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pro Wrestling, A New Career?</title><content type='html'>So, I've decided to join a gym to get into better shape. I found this gym that offers Pro Wrestling training. My best friend Steve and I are wrestling fans so I figured that it might be a good way for us to get into shape. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; class was on Saturday night, the evening progressed as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, it was next to impossible to find the damn place, it was set back behind some warehouses just off of Barton St. I finally figure out how to get into this place and when I got inside, I discovered that it was a storage room for old manufacturing equipment. Half of it was filled with crap, and on the other side stood a wrestling ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got changed and jumped into the ring with three other rookies (all smaller than me) along with the trainer (also smaller than me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started us off easy, teaching us how to take a proper 'bump' also known as a fall. This was pretty easy as it was the same as the karate training we got when we were kids. He started us off sitting, just to get the motions right. We were supposed to just fall back with our arms spread out. That  was the easiest part of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trainer then told us to stand up and try falling from our knees, again, not too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we all got a turn in the middle of the ring to fall backwards from our feet. That started to hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the need to explain what exactly I was falling onto. A wrestling ring is a solid metal structure with a plywood floor covered in 3/4" foam for 'support'. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;middle of&lt;/span&gt; the ring is also supported by a spring, so the whole floor moves up and down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we perfected the art of falling, he then taught us how to 'hit the ropes'. Basically we would run back and forth in the ring bouncing off of the ropes. Before we started he explained to us that the ropes weren't actually rope, they were 1" steel cable wrapped in electrical tape. I have a 1" wide bruise all across my back from the 'ropes'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then decided that we needed to learn how to clothesline someone. A clothesline is just that, you run at a guy and stick your arm out straight and knock him over with it. The trainer decided that he was going to use me as the victim for this demonstration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me that he was going to run at me and that when I felt his arm touch my chest that I was supposed to 'bump', a.k.a. fall as realistically as possible. Keep in mind, he's a real Pro Wrestler, so clearly he went on auto pilot at this very moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hit the ropes and ran at me looking like he thought I just punched his mother in the face. Now, a normal person would just move out of the way if someone came at you like this, I tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I 'bumped' early and instead of his arm hitting my chest, it hit me square in he chin. Now, when you 'bump' properly, you're supposed to tuck your chin into your chest so that you don't hit the back of your head on the mat when you drop. Because he hit me in the chin, my head was arched backwards and it was the first thing to hit the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then asked me if I was OK, I said yes. He then said, "...did you see what you did wrong there?" The whole time I was thinking, "...yeah, I walked in the door."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here I sit, 48 hours removed from one of the most horrific experiences of my life. I hurt in places that I didn't even know I had...my new career as a Professional Wrestler up in smoke, and all my loving, supportive mother can do is laugh her butt off as I'm telling this story to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need some Advil.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3210003201012331957?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3210003201012331957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3210003201012331957' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3210003201012331957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3210003201012331957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2009/01/pro-wrestling-new-career.html' title='Pro Wrestling, A New Career?'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-6719591182853005775</id><published>2008-03-16T15:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T15:52:03.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Beat Up</title><content type='html'>I have a boss that has absolutely no people skills whatsoever. He feels the need to latch onto things and pick at you about them until you feel like hanging yourself, I've had two of these occasions this passed week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the fool that I am, when he's like this, I just take it for what it's worth, but when a couple of the guys at the store told be that they didn't like seeing me as depressed as I was, I went to Bill, the store manager, and told him how I felt. Now, he feels for our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;DM&lt;/span&gt; the way that I feel, so I really know what I was going to hear before Bill even said anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came to work on Friday, still feeling quite down and uninspired when I get a call from my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;DM&lt;/span&gt;. He basically &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;apologized&lt;/span&gt; for the last couple of conversations that we've had and told me that he was only being tough on me because I was the best and brightest in the region and that I was next in line to get my own store. So, in whatever twisted way, I guess it made me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only downfall to being next in line is that I might be asked to move again. As a matter of fact, he came down on Friday afternoon and wanted to know my 'radius' for any positions that may come up...but that's a different blog for a different time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-6719591182853005775?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/6719591182853005775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=6719591182853005775' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6719591182853005775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6719591182853005775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2008/03/feeling-beat-up.html' title='Feeling Beat Up'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-8194020277794433548</id><published>2008-02-07T17:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T17:31:59.862-05:00</updated><title type='text'>...Back Home</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time, there was a young Assistant Manager who was just starting out. He was naieve and believed just about anything people would tell him. He was working in one of the largest stores on Southern Ontario, and was on the fast track to making it big. Although he would work in many stores since then, the people and the location would always be near and dear to his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, effective January 13th, I went home. I'm now back in the Hamilton area as the Assistant Manager in the Stoney Creek store. Now, granted, I'm a little more jaded and far less naieve, but it's still great to be 'home'. I didn't find out until after I started back at the store, but the Manager, Bill, asked for me by name to come and be his Assistant. It was really nice to know that someone liked me enough to ask for me by name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on a side note, the tool that they had as the Assistant Manager in St.Catharines quit because she was going to be moved to a much smaller volume store. Too bad, eh? It wasn't until after she quit that the District Manager told us that it was a mistake to hire her (I could have told him that long ago).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bus oh well, I'm happy to be back, the people are great and so is the drive, it's less than 15 minutes from door to door. My bank account is also much happier because I'm no longer filling up every 3 days. And at almost $1.00/litre, that's the best news of all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-8194020277794433548?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/8194020277794433548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=8194020277794433548' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8194020277794433548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8194020277794433548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2008/02/back-home.html' title='...Back Home'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-8201968270095713860</id><published>2007-12-13T13:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T13:21:44.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Blog</title><content type='html'>Finally, my first post since September 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. I guess it's been a while since I've had something to say...not!!! Just the first time I've had the time to sit in front of my computer for longer than 2 minutes to check my E-Mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is well in my world, we've launched a new department at the Church. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bethel&lt;/span&gt; Media Department will one day be a fully independent Media and Advertising Department for the Church. They have some very lofty goals for the Department, but have a ton of money to throw at it...when we can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;prove&lt;/span&gt; the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;merit&lt;/span&gt; of the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met last month to lay out the 1, 3, 5 and 10 year plans for the department, and the whole thing is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;extremely&lt;/span&gt; exciting. They hope to stream live broadcasts of the services on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; within 2 years, and go to a T.V. Broadcast within 7-10 years. We're also spending millions on a new adult lifestyle condominium complex, as well as building a new, state-of-the-art sanctuary and worship centre. It's really neat to be on the 'ground floor' of something and be able to look back on it decades from now and say, "...I was there at the beginning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my age, I've never been able to say something like that before. I'm looking forward to moving forward with these exciting initiatives, who knows where it will take me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-8201968270095713860?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/8201968270095713860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=8201968270095713860' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8201968270095713860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8201968270095713860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/12/new-blog.html' title='The New Blog'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-1730577080264359642</id><published>2007-09-10T15:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T16:01:31.257-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Good Thing To Know</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't 'blogged' much lately, but today I felt the itch to type again. I got an E-Mail from a good friend of mine, she told me what her father had just passed away after a long battle with cancer. Reading that brought back a whole bunch of memories that I would rather not remember, but nevertheless, there they were all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started thinking about cancer and why it has to do what it does to people, and I know I remember thinking that this is such an evil thing, all I wanted the cancer to to was die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had a rather sudden realization, it has. Even though it had to take someone with it, that tumor has died, it will never again harm another human being. So, however twisted the victory may have been, I can now count three cancers that will never again harm another human being. And for whatever reason, that gives me some sort of a feeling of victory, although there are some people I'd rather be sharing a laugh with, rather than a victory without them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This stuff still sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-1730577080264359642?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/1730577080264359642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=1730577080264359642' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1730577080264359642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1730577080264359642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/09/one-good-thing-to-know.html' title='One Good Thing To Know'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-2337129416474270660</id><published>2007-07-25T21:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T21:14:13.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shell</title><content type='html'>I've been confronted once again with the mortality of us all. I know I'm at a point in my life where this sort of thing will happen from time to time, but when it does happen, you're never prepared for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my Grandfather a little over two years ago to cancer. It was heart wrenching to go and see him deteriorate like he did, he almost became a shell of his former self. I'm now doing it all over again with my step-father. He was first diagnosed with kidney cancer about a year and a half ago, and had one of his kidneys removed that Christmas. He has since been battling more tumors in various places throughout his body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were just told today that he will be sent home to be cared for as there is nothing more that can be done for him at the hospital. They're basically sending him home to die. I can't help but think that this is so unfair! He's only 48 years old, in the prime of his life, and now has been reduced to nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember meeting him for the first time when he and my mom started dating, he seemed like a nice guy, but I didn't want anything to do with him. Now, almost 10 years later, I think of him as my father...he helped raise me and is a big part of who I am today. I've always been the type of person who wanted to fix things for people, this is why when I see him lying in a hospital bed, it kills me to not be able to fix him. I want so badly for him to just get up and walk out like nothing ever happened, for him to just go back to making his crude jokes and rotten stories. I know that my 'Change Oil' light is due to come on anytime now, and I don't know where I'm going to take it, David has always been my go-to guy for things like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when life is going so well for so long, these sort of things just blindside you. I know that between now and whenever, there will be many tears shed. I know up to this point I haven't always been able to keep it together, but it helps to know what David would have told us..." Suck it up sissy! Quit your belly-achin' ".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-2337129416474270660?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/2337129416474270660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=2337129416474270660' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2337129416474270660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2337129416474270660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/07/shell.html' title='Shell'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-1132285341717413696</id><published>2007-06-21T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T09:37:15.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just In Case You Were Interested...</title><content type='html'>'Nicholas' means...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the Greek name &lt;a class="trn" href="http://www.behindthename.com/support/transcribe.php?type=GR&amp;target=Nikolaos"&gt;Νικολαος&lt;/a&gt; (Nikolaos) which meant "victory of the people" from Greek &lt;a class="trn" href="http://www.behindthename.com/support/transcribe.php?type=GR&amp;amp;target=nikh"&gt;νικη&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nike&lt;/span&gt;) "victory" and &lt;a class="trn" href="http://www.behindthename.com/support/transcribe.php?type=GR&amp;target=laos"&gt;λαος&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;laos&lt;/span&gt;) "people". Saint Nicholas was a 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;-century bishop from Anatolia who, according to legend, saved the daughters of a poor man from lives of prostitution. He is also known as Santa Claus (from Dutch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sinterklaas&lt;/span&gt;), the bringer of Christmas presents. He is the patron saint of children, &lt;strong&gt;sailors&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;merchants&lt;/strong&gt;, and Greece and Russia. Nicholas was also the name of two czars of Russia and five popes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bolded&lt;/span&gt; that one word because of its significance. The Patron Saint of Sailors and Merchants. See, Sailing and Selling were in me from the beginning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-1132285341717413696?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/1132285341717413696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=1132285341717413696' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1132285341717413696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1132285341717413696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/06/just-in-case-you-were-interested.html' title='Just In Case You Were Interested...'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-8810830702764332822</id><published>2007-06-21T09:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T09:32:19.567-05:00</updated><title type='text'>These are my Kids, Billy, Jane, Thomas and '4real'</title><content type='html'>Yup, you read it right. There is a couple in New Zealand that want to name their child '4real'...no joke. They said that they were so struck by the sight of the baby on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ultrasound&lt;/span&gt; that they felt that they needed the child to know how they felt...for the rest of his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their reasoning is that whenever you give a name to someone, the name means something. If you want to know what your name means, then you have to go through the process of looking it up in the name dictionary...oh, how hard that must be for some people. They figured that if they named their child '4real' then the child would always know that something was indeed '4real'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Government thus far has blocked the naming of the child stating that a name cannot begin with a number. So, right now, the parents and the New Zealand Government are in negotiations to come to terms with the naming of this kid. The Government won't out and out reject the name yet, but for this kid's sake,&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;I hope they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the two sides can't come to an agreement by July 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, the child will be registered under the name 'real'. Under New Zealand law, no child can go without a name for more than 60 days after birth, so they're really under the gun to get this kid a normal name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would you want to name your kid, '4real'? This simply makes no sense at all, but hey, who am I to judge...right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-8810830702764332822?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/8810830702764332822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=8810830702764332822' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8810830702764332822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8810830702764332822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/06/these-are-my-kids-billy-jane-thomas-and.html' title='These are my Kids, Billy, Jane, Thomas and &apos;4real&apos;'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-8549244575691641939</id><published>2007-06-19T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T09:05:51.751-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Shopping</title><content type='html'>It is probably the most humbling experience one can have, when you start shopping for your first home. Natasha and I started looking around for a nice place to live, somewhere on the mountain preferably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But whichever house we seem to look at, they're all like a million dollars. We're looking to spend $160,000 - $18o,000, that should keep the payments relatively reasonable. The trouble is, for that kind of money, the houses are surprisingly tiny...I mean really tiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple that Natasha has found that are pretty nice and reasonablly affordable, we'll see how they work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the search goes on, hopefully we'll be able to find something that will allow us to have enough room to start a family. Wish us luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-8549244575691641939?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/8549244575691641939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=8549244575691641939' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8549244575691641939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8549244575691641939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/06/home-shopping.html' title='Home Shopping'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-6089555018967747637</id><published>2007-05-29T13:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T13:55:10.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'>People</title><content type='html'>I've never really understood what makes people the way they are. I've been working with the general public for the last 5 years, and I just don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a customer on Sunday who was obviously going through a mid-life crisis. He wanted the 'coolest' of everything, I didn't bother telling him that he was talking to the squarest of the square. He and his wife just couldn't say 'no' to anything that this young buck was putting in front of them. The couple just seemed generally happy to be alive, nothing really seemed to phase them. They ended up walking out the door with more than $1,200 in merchandise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are some people that you have to really work at. I had another couple, about the same age as the above mentioned, who were the sourest most ill-mannered people I've met in a long time. They ended up leaving with $0 in merchandise because nothing we had was perfect enough or cheap enough for them...kind of an oxy moron don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe eventually I'll be able to look at someone and read them perfectly. Until then, I'll just have to keep on plugging away. I'll celebrate the good ones, and hopefully forget all about the bad ones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-6089555018967747637?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/6089555018967747637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=6089555018967747637' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6089555018967747637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/6089555018967747637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/05/people.html' title='People'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-1185570373490702973</id><published>2007-05-22T21:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T21:44:18.929-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Sleep</title><content type='html'>Every now and then I get nights where I just say there staring at the ceiling. Tonight is one of those nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's only 10:41, but I had been laying in bed for almost an hour trying to go to sleep. I tried watching some TV to put me down, not even Larry King could do the trick. So here I am, blogging with Spencer whining because there's someone down here that doesn't want to play with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess I'll surf the net for a while and see what everyone else in the world has gotten themselves into today. Hopefully that will tire me out. Sweet dreams everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-1185570373490702973?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/1185570373490702973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=1185570373490702973' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1185570373490702973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1185570373490702973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/05/cant-sleep.html' title='Can&apos;t Sleep'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-863573462759801546</id><published>2007-05-14T14:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T14:07:53.111-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Laryngitis</title><content type='html'>That's right. I can't talk. It happens so suddenly sometimes you know? I woke up Friday morning with a sore throat, but it went away. When I woke up Saturday morning with a sore throat, I figured it would be more of the same, but by 5:00 I couldn't talk anymore! It's now into its third day, and I still can't manage more than a whisper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For someone who needs to talk in order to work, this is upsetting. I couldn't work today, so here I am at home twiddling my thumbs trying not to talk. This sucks. Oh well, could be worse I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My co-workers were really enjoying themselves this morning at my expense, asking if anyone wanted a coffee, looking at me knowing I wanted one but unable to voice my desire. They'd laugh that this is the quietest morning they've had since I started. All of these jokes of course roll right off my back, but I am making notes. They'll need me someday, and when they do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I guess a few days off never hurt anyone. Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to get back into the swing of things. We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-863573462759801546?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/863573462759801546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=863573462759801546' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/863573462759801546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/863573462759801546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/05/laryngitis.html' title='Laryngitis'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4347147802128852811</id><published>2007-05-09T10:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T10:41:26.218-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>I know it's been quite a while since my last posting, but I have been fairly busy. I know that reading my blog is such a huge part of all of your days, so I have decided to post again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's been about 2 1/2 weeks since I started back at Moores, and as expected, I had some trouble adjusting to not being in charge anymore. The new Assistant Manager, who I'm sure hates me, seems to have it out for me. I'm sure she's just threatened by my unbelievable skills and my dashing good looks. After all, she's never worked in menswear before, she Managed a ladies' shoe store. Or it could be that I'm just a pompous jerk and I don't really know it. Either way, she doesn't seem to think that I'm giving her the proper respect. BULL-DOOKIE! I have no problem letting her run the show, but when they ask my opinion, I'm gonna give it to 'em. Oh well, these are the days of our lives I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than the new Assistant Manager, things are going great. I'm making more money than I ever could have at Edward Jones, so I think this was a good move. I'm meeting with the District Manager on Friday to discuss my advancement in the company, so things should go well for me being back at Moores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I'm off to Home Depot to price putting in a little patio in the yard. Until I post again, take care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4347147802128852811?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4347147802128852811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4347147802128852811' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4347147802128852811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4347147802128852811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/05/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-5159527439959996467</id><published>2007-04-24T08:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T08:09:27.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Habbits Die Hard</title><content type='html'>Well, I had my first day at Moores yesterday. I had a great day selling wise, made some money and went home. But I constantly found myself wanted to be the Manager, this is something that I'm really going to have to work on, for now at least, until they promote me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But where I am now is great. I have no real responsibility other than serving the customer and going home. It's great not to have to worry about things like sales forecasts, stats, employee bickering, the District Manager chewing us out, things like that, I just do my job and go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still like being in charge though. I always like it when I can solve a problem or lead a team to success, that kind of accomplishment makes you feel good. I'll get there soon enough, at least that's what the contract says.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-5159527439959996467?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/5159527439959996467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=5159527439959996467' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/5159527439959996467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/5159527439959996467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/old-habbits-die-hard.html' title='Old Habbits Die Hard'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-1534043886248005614</id><published>2007-04-19T08:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T08:50:29.917-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unemployed...Technically</title><content type='html'>Well, for only the second time in 7 years, I am technically unemployed. I have resigned from Edward Jones and am waiting to start back with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Moores&lt;/span&gt; this coming week. There has only been one other time since I got my first job that I have been technically 'unemployed', and that was when I left &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Moores&lt;/span&gt; to come to Edward Jones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in the last 7 years, I will have been unemployed for a grand total of 5 days. Now, that includes me working as part time and everything, but I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt; that it's quite impressive that someone as young as I am has been able to stay gainfully employed for that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at some of my friends, some of whom don't even have jobs, and I don't see how I could still be at school like they are. I mean, I have a real life now, I'm married (first of all my friends), have my own home (first of all my friends) and I have a full time job (first of all my friends). I look at most of the people I know and I see them worrying about final exams and next year's courses, and I think to myself, 'wow, I don't have to worry about any of that'. Instead, I have to worry about rent, hydro, food, credit cards, phone bills, cable bills and things of that nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the college life isn't so bad after all. Just kidding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-1534043886248005614?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/1534043886248005614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=1534043886248005614' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1534043886248005614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1534043886248005614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/umemployedtechnically.html' title='Unemployed...Technically'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4173766691800405859</id><published>2007-04-16T16:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T16:19:41.967-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Childish, Simply Childish</title><content type='html'>I have been around a lot of childish people in my life. But there are just sometimes you have to do something that you may not really want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point, when I was in the interview process with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Moores&lt;/span&gt;, the new District Manager told me that there were some stores in the District that I couldn't work at. When I picked myself up off the floor, I asked him why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said that there were some concerns that some passed conflicts may create a bad working environment and that the people involved have said that they don't want to work with me. This shocked me, sort of. My ex-girlfriend and her husband (my former roommate) have concocted this 'issue' for some reason. I don't know why, but they have. Maybe they have nothing better to do with their time than to have 'issues' with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any issues with them, and as far as I know, there have been no 'conflicts' between us. I haven't even talked to them personally since we got married. I mean, I talked to them professionally when we were all in Calgary, but that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I told the District Manager that I didn't have a problem with it, I may not want to hang out with them after work or anything, but I can deal with working with them if I had to. Both he and I agreed that sometimes you just have to me an adult.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4173766691800405859?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4173766691800405859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4173766691800405859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4173766691800405859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4173766691800405859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/childish-simply-childish.html' title='Childish, Simply Childish'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4024602557070623444</id><published>2007-04-16T16:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T16:13:44.039-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Change Happens</title><content type='html'>It's been a few days since my last blog, and I have to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;apologize&lt;/span&gt; for it. I have been crazy busy with Edward Jones, whether it be Regional Meetings or Group Meetings. I have been from one end of the golden horseshoe to the other in the last few days and have put several hundred kilometres on my car in doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, as you may know, I have been having some issues with my current working situation. Recently, I met with a friend to talk about my problems and his solution was that maybe I should call &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Moores&lt;/span&gt; and see if they'll hire me back? I really enjoyed being at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Moores&lt;/span&gt; for the most part, a lot more than Edward Jones I'll tell you that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I called the District Manager for the Hamilton/Niagara Region and asked if he would be interested in meeting with me. After a bit of phone tag we finally were able to have a sit down meeting. He seems like a nice enough guy, he's a new District Manager, the one prior to him was moved to Toronto. Anyhow, he's a real straight-shooter, and I like that, he doesn't give you the 'Corporate Runaround', he says it like it is. After a couple of meetings, he decided to hire me back, but not as Management yet, I have to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;prove&lt;/span&gt; myself first, which is understandable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to make a real long story short, I'll be starting back up at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Moores&lt;/span&gt; next week in the St.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Catharines&lt;/span&gt; location. Not my first choice, but there are worse stores I could be working at, at least here I'll be making decent money. Within 2-3 months I should be back into Management and on my way to running the company once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes change happens, I'm learning that you just have to roll with the punches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4024602557070623444?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4024602557070623444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4024602557070623444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4024602557070623444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4024602557070623444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/change-happens.html' title='Change Happens'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-2930949782941784333</id><published>2007-04-11T13:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T13:51:17.699-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Site Metre</title><content type='html'>This thing is really quite remarkable. I have a bog that is being read in such countries as Sweden, Canada (love ya Momma), Germany, Argentina (love ya Shelley), China, Malaysia &amp;amp; the US (love ya Gramma).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of odd knowing that your writing is being ready by people all over the world. I don't think I would ever be able to stand being a professional writer. Too many people reading my thoughts, so to speak. I'd like to hear what the people from the other countries have to say about my ramblings, I think it would be interesting to hear what they have to say. Anyhow, back to my regular life here in Hamilton.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-2930949782941784333?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/2930949782941784333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=2930949782941784333' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2930949782941784333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2930949782941784333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/site-metre.html' title='Site Metre'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-5091448611905631612</id><published>2007-04-11T10:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T10:37:01.011-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep</title><content type='html'>The last few days, Natasha has been off to work earlier than usual. What generally happens when she leaves is, I'll see her off then go back to bed and watch the news for a while. This usually takes me to between 8:00 and 8:30. When I get up, I come down, check my E-Mail and get ready for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These last two days have been different, I decided not to turn on the TV and just get a bit more shut-eye, I've been really tired lately and I don't know why. I was shocked when I turned over yesterday morning and saw the clock, it was 11:00! This wouldn't be too terribly shocking except I had gone to bed around 10:30 the night before! 12 1/2 hours! I haven't done that since I was a kid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, same thing, 11:00! I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know if my body needed the sleep or what, but I feel like I could still go back to bed. I don't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; what's wrong, I get plenty of rest during the night, at least 8 hours. But it just hits me in the afternoon, like a freight train, I just suddenly get really tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, when&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;I went to bed last night, I felt tired, but I couldn't go to sleep, I was very restless. I don't know, I guess it's just a phase, I hope I'll get over it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-5091448611905631612?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/5091448611905631612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=5091448611905631612' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/5091448611905631612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/5091448611905631612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/sleep.html' title='Sleep'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-745679542510626903</id><published>2007-04-05T10:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T10:41:03.972-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Advice</title><content type='html'>Since I started going to Bethel a few years ago, I have become very involved in the Technical Department. I've taken over the AV Team and I have been heavily involved in the production that they put on at Christmas and Easter. This has allowed me to become close with the Music Pastor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He and I have worked together on more than 8 productions, and every Sunday during services. I have also been very blessed to be able to confide in him when I need some serious advice. I have gone to him with issues ranging from the death of my Grandfather to whether going to Calgary with Natasha was the right thing to do. He also offered his services for our wedding, he arranged for himself and a violinist to play Natasha and the Bride's Maids down the aisle. He has always been very open and understanding towards my unique situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has recently helped me to straighten out some issues I've been having with work, and I've gotta tell you, I always feel like something was resolved when I finish talking to him. He always seems to organize my thought process an allow me to think more clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that he and I jive so well because of the simple fact that we think the same in many ways and we also have similar personalities. This is a great comfort to me, having someone that is very much like me, but is totally removed from the direct situation that they can give impartial advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has helped me to get through many tough decisions in the passed few years, and I don't think he'll ever know how truly appreciated his advice really is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-745679542510626903?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/745679542510626903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=745679542510626903' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/745679542510626903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/745679542510626903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/advise.html' title='Advice'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-8685822004567289785</id><published>2007-04-04T08:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T09:01:41.928-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Year Old Lovers</title><content type='html'>I read this morning that a school in New Orleans is suspending 5 students for having sex in class. Now, this wouldn't be nearly as disturbing if the students weren't between the ages of 10 and 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The school houses students from grades 1 to 12. The class in question is a 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade class that was inadvertently left unattended. While one student was on the lookout for teachers, 4 other students proceeded to have sex in the classroom in front of their classmates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until the next day that school officials found out about the incident, as one of the kids mentioned it to a grade 12 student who told his teacher about it. The kids were arrested, and are awaiting arraignment in Juvenile Court.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have since been released into the custody of their parents, and the four are expected to be charged with obscenity and the lookout is expected to be charged as an accessory to obscenity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of homes are these kids growing up in that they think that it's acceptable to be having sex in a classroom at the age of 10! This is probably the must disturbing news I've heard in a long time, I wouldn't want to be the parents of these children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-8685822004567289785?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/8685822004567289785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=8685822004567289785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8685822004567289785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8685822004567289785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/10-year-old-lovers.html' title='10 Year Old Lovers'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4185985844919240057</id><published>2007-04-04T08:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T08:52:11.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fake Christian Terrorists?</title><content type='html'>This has got to be one for the most ridiculous, offensive things I have ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A school in New Jersey had a mock school shooting the other day to test their preparedness for the actual event, should it ever happen. Sounds like a great idea, and to this point, I totally support it. It's the back-story that bothers me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story that the school board later released was as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two armed men, members of a Christian Fundamentalist group called 'The New Crusaders' storm a New Jersey school because one of the men's daughters was suspended from school for praying before class. The men wanted justice, so they went to the school, shot students and held others hostage in the school's media room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the armed men were played by two New Jersey police detectives, and the whole incident was approved by the school board, the police services board and the school's Principal. The school Superintendent released a statement the following day saying, "...we wanted to practice under circumstances that are as real as possible, so we can determine if we are capable of handling such a threat...".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine if the school board portrayed Muslims or Jews as the gunmen? What kind of an outrage would that have caused? The fact that the Superintendent wanted it 'as real as possible' is even a joke, because students cannot be suspended for praying before, during or after classes anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So really, this was just a cheap attack on Christianity, there was no need for such an elaborate back-story to be woven by people that just don't get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4185985844919240057?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4185985844919240057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4185985844919240057' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4185985844919240057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4185985844919240057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/fake-christian-terrorists.html' title='Fake Christian Terrorists?'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-2664570211667255652</id><published>2007-04-02T11:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T11:19:49.988-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Such an Old Man</title><content type='html'>The Church Easter presentation is now in full swing. We had our first two shows this passed weekend on Saturday and Sunday night. Basically we're recreating the Last Supper scene, so each one of us has to pose a certain way for the whole length of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wouldn't be so bad, but we have to hold the pose for like 45 minutes while all of the other Disciples say their monologue. I thought my pose was one of the easiest, all I have to do is stand and lean on the table, I play Nathaniel, I'm on the very far left hand side of the table. But this is proving to be a very painful pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rehearsals were fine, I never really felt much discomfort, but when Saturday night's show was over, boy was I in pain. My lower back and my hamstrings are so sore from being bent over like that for so long. I took some pain killers, but they don't seem to be working so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normal movements like walking aren't so bad, it's when I have to get into and out of the car and into and out of bed that the pain really kicks into overdrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone with a 23 year old body shouldn't have to go through the aches and pains that I do, I think there was some sort of mix up, I must really be about 40 or something. Oh well, this is the body I was given, I'm gonna have to do the best I can with what I've got.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-2664570211667255652?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/2664570211667255652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=2664570211667255652' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2664570211667255652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2664570211667255652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/04/such-old-man.html' title='Such an Old Man'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-8718839756651316458</id><published>2007-03-29T10:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T11:12:04.411-05:00</updated><title type='text'>'The Great American Dream Vote'</title><content type='html'>Have you heard of this show?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't until last night right before I went to bed. It's hosted by Donny Osmond (of Donny and Marie), and people basically appeal to the crowd to vote for them so the show will fulfill their particular dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy that won last night wanted to get a hair transplant, he looked kind of dorky, but seemed quite genuine. The show seems to be structured in sort of tournament style. You start out with 3 groups of 2 contestants. Each contestant gets to tell everyone in the audience what their dream is, then the audience picks their favourite and they move onto the second round. In the second round, the 6 people have been cut down to 3. Then they tell the audience their dream again, the audience then votes for their two favourite, the least favourite of the 3 goes home. Finally the two remaining are in the finals, and the viewing audience at home gets to vote for who they want to win their dream. The results are announced on the next show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, back to this guy that won the hair transplant. That wasn't all he got, they gave him a crap-load of stuff:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- $25,000 Hair Transplant&lt;br /&gt;- $20,000 Cash&lt;br /&gt;- $10,000 New Wardrobe&lt;br /&gt;- All expense paid trip to Las Vegas in a private jet&lt;br /&gt;- A wind surfing board&lt;br /&gt;- A skydiving adventure&lt;br /&gt;- 40" Flat-Screen TV&lt;br /&gt;- Digital Camera&lt;br /&gt;- Video Camera&lt;br /&gt;- A brand new convertible sports car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All along while they were announcing his prizes, Natasha was saying, '...just watch, he'll get some sort of convertible or something...'. Of course they save the car until last, I was quite impressed that she was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This show seems to be a waste of time and a gross waste of money. If they're going to give people their dream, it should be someone truly deserving of having their dream come true. There are organizations that make terminally ill children's dreams come true all the time. I think that they hundreds of thousands of dollars that they spend producing this show could be far better spent if it were donated to a deserving charity such as the Children's Miracle Network, or the Make-A-Wish Foundation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I guess everyone needs something to watch on a Wednesday night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-8718839756651316458?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/8718839756651316458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=8718839756651316458' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8718839756651316458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8718839756651316458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/great-american-dream-vote.html' title='&apos;The Great American Dream Vote&apos;'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3797957549715192251</id><published>2007-03-27T08:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T08:13:35.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy, but not so much, you know?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever wanted to do something, but then you come up with a million different other things you just 'have to do'? I think we all have. And those things that you just 'have to do' are really just things to keep you from doing the first thing that you really don't want to do. You keep yourself so wrapped up in what you think you 'have to do' that by the time you get around to the other stuff, there's not really any time to do it, oh well, maybe tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I have been complaining a lot about this doorknocking stuff, but I don't know. I've been doing it, somewhat, I've been getting out when the weather's been nice. For the rest of the week it's supposed to be beautiful here, so I suppose I'll be doing some doorknocking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my problem is that I psych myself out before I even get in the car to go. I find myself trapped in my own mind sometimes, thinking about the worst case scenario all the time, and I think that's keeping me away. I'm starting to figure this out, I'm telling myself that all I need to do is go out for an hour, an hour and a half, you know?...baby steps I guess you can call it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems to be working a bit, I don't feel quite as 'trapped' as I did in past weeks. So, I guess I'll just keep on keepin' on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3797957549715192251?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3797957549715192251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3797957549715192251' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3797957549715192251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3797957549715192251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/busy-but-not-so-much-you-know.html' title='Busy, but not so much, you know?'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-2129675161570973976</id><published>2007-03-26T08:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T09:05:28.205-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home at Last</title><content type='html'>This weekend marked our 1 year anniversary. We spent a great weekend together, and had the opportunity to spend a night in Niagara Falls. We had dinner here in Hamilton at Shakespeare's (great steak by the way), and then we made our way to Niagara Falls afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, we walked up and down Clifton Hill, spent some time in the Guinness Museum, and walked up and down the Niagara River. About 3 hours later we decided to call it quits and head back to the car. We spent a quiet hour driving back to Hamilton, it was a nice day and a nice drive, although, 'Tips' couldn't find us a Tim Hortons, so we had to do it the old fashioned way. For those of you wondering, 'Tips' is the GPS System that Natasha got me for Christmas, we call it 'Tips' due to the old saying, 'Thanks Tips', if you don't get it, never mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, no matter how nice your trip is, it's always nice to come home. We decided to let Spencer stay one more night at his Gramma's house so we could relax and unwind a bit. He'll be back sometime this morning, with a new bone I hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, one year down, a lifetime to go. I'm looking forward to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-2129675161570973976?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/2129675161570973976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=2129675161570973976' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2129675161570973976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2129675161570973976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/home-at-last.html' title='Home at Last'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3862406315353480124</id><published>2007-03-22T07:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T07:36:37.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weather Sensitive Business</title><content type='html'>I'm sure most people, other than Jehovah's Witnesses and Postal Carriers, don't have their jobs so affected by the changes in the weather. Usually, one would just get in the car, drive to work and sit in their office for 8 hours, shielded from the weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not me. I don't think I've ever watched the Weather Network so much ever! When their news is even a bit too hard to take, I turn to CH to get a second opinion. I find by the way, that the Weather Network is far more accurate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's difficult for me to imagine how I could effectively go doorknocking in the rain. I'd be showing up to someone's door soaking wet...real professional. Maybe in the freezing cold? No, my hands and mouth don't work when they're frozen. So, I find myself really enjoying the days when it's either just lightly snowing, or sunshine and decent temperatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I'll have to keep my eyes on the sky as it's supposed to thunder shower for most of the morning and afternoon. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3862406315353480124?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3862406315353480124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3862406315353480124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3862406315353480124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3862406315353480124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/weather-sensitive-business.html' title='Weather Sensitive Business'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-2122272781449717870</id><published>2007-03-21T08:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T08:20:56.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Downfall of Marriage</title><content type='html'>My wife and I have a great relationship. We have our disagreements once in a while, but who doesn't, right? Anyhow, the reason that I'm writing this message today, is that I have finally found one of the biggest downfalls of marriage. When one spouse gets sick, the other spouse might as well start booking sick days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natasha came down with a cold a few days ago, and up until this morning, I was really proud of my immune system for not allowing such a virus to invade my system...wrong. This morning I woke up with a sore throat and a runny nose. Oh well, one of the drawbacks to sharing a bed with someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;punishment&lt;/span&gt; for giving me such a virus will be that she will have to take care of me for the next few days while I get better. Not really, I'll just have to lay low for a few days (I'll try at least) and let it run its course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-2122272781449717870?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/2122272781449717870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=2122272781449717870' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2122272781449717870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/2122272781449717870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/downfall-of-marriage.html' title='The Downfall of Marriage'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-5005162457350991026</id><published>2007-03-20T07:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T07:59:47.365-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm A Real Broker Now</title><content type='html'>While I was in a fellow Broker's office last week complaining to his Assistant about the slow laptop that I have to use, I said to her, "...I can't wait to get my own office with real computers." Knowing of course that I wouldn't be doing so until closer to the end of the year. She then replied, "...Well, maybe you should move down to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Stoney&lt;/span&gt; Creek." Apparently, the Broker that was working out of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Stoney&lt;/span&gt; Creek office quit last month. So, I, being the resourceful one, called my IR Development Specialist to see if I could take over the office...she was on vacation until the 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;...great, I have to wait all weekend to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Monday morning comes around, and I can't wait one more day to find out. So I called my Regional Leader and asked him what he thought of the idea. I mean, this is a great opportunity, there aren't any other Edward Jones Brokers in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Stoney&lt;/span&gt; Creek, the area hasn't been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;doorknocked&lt;/span&gt; in a while, AND there is another Broker moving closer to my current area in a few weeks. So, my Regional Leader made a few calls and the guy at Head Office that handles office placements called me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the current assets that had been in the office had been reallocated to other offices in Hamilton already, so there wasn't going to be a current client base to work with. Oh well. But, they were pleased to see that someone was taking the initiative in asking for the office, so they offered it to me. All I have to do is qualify for 'office status', just like everyone else in my class. But the difference being that as soon as I do, I get the keys to the office. My fellow classmates would have to wait for the lease &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;negotiations&lt;/span&gt;, the surveying and the build-out, which takes upwards of 6 months. So, good for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be starting to prospect the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Stoney&lt;/span&gt; Creek area today, hoping to find some people that are interested in a change. At least now, when people as me where my office is, I can give them a location that they actually know. That, at least in my mind, makes me a real broker now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-5005162457350991026?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/5005162457350991026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=5005162457350991026' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/5005162457350991026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/5005162457350991026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-real-broker-now.html' title='I&apos;m A Real Broker Now'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-7020399281287586988</id><published>2007-03-19T07:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T07:34:02.997-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Later</title><content type='html'>It's always interesting when you can look back at a specific moment in your life and remember who, what, where and when. For us lately, it's been our one year anniversary coming up on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's totally mind blowing to me that what we've been though so far has only taken place over the span of one year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was exactly 52 weeks ago today (not actually one calendar year, that would make it tomorrow), that Natasha and I flew off to Calgary to find a place to live. We would then arrive back in Hamilton late Wednesday night/early Thursday morning to finish planning the wedding that we had to move up 7 months. Friday was our rehearsal for the wedding, and Saturday was the big day. Sunday was a 'catch your breath' day, and Monday morning we were off to Calgary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little did we know that almost 6 months to the day, we would be coming back to Hamilton to start over...again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we've been back, there have been ups, downs and all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;arounds&lt;/span&gt;. But I'm extremely happy with the way that my life has turned out so far, I have an amazingly beautiful wife (I married up), a family that is so supportive of me (sometimes I don't think I deserve it) and a job that I'm working at being passionate about (it's coming, slow and steady). I wouldn't change anything I've done, not a chance. I once heard, 'you have to regret nothing, and fear less'. I try, but sometimes the second thing can be sort of difficult...but everyone will make it through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-7020399281287586988?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/7020399281287586988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=7020399281287586988' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7020399281287586988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7020399281287586988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/one-year-later.html' title='One Year Later'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-568123578476620899</id><published>2007-03-15T09:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T09:54:13.429-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Day/Bad Day</title><content type='html'>In the business that I am in, it involves a certain amount of intestinal fortitude. You need to be able to have 100 doors slammed in your face, figuratively (sometimes literally), and keep on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;trekking&lt;/span&gt; as if nothing ever happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I do meet someone that seems genuinely kind at the door, I try to make a mental note that when I call them, they should be the same nice person...WRONG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point. I knocked on this nice older lady's door. She invited me into her home, offered my a cup of coffee as it happened to be quite chilly that day. We spoke for a few minutes, she told me about her family, then I went on my way feeling quite good about this prospect. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;When&lt;/span&gt; I phoned her a few weeks later, she was so rotten to me on the phone, she must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed right before someone pissed in her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cheerios&lt;/span&gt;! It was awful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned in my time in sales and customer service that you can't really judge someone right out of the gate, you have to get to know them a bit more. Most people I meet that are nice, remain nice. It's just the rare case where you just get your socks blown off once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, it's just the nature of the beast I guess. It just makes me enjoy the nice people that much more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-568123578476620899?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/568123578476620899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=568123578476620899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/568123578476620899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/568123578476620899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/good-daybad-day.html' title='Good Day/Bad Day'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3543703921973051848</id><published>2007-03-14T08:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T08:20:12.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Baby Is No Longer Safe In His Mother's Arms</title><content type='html'>Last night, it was reported on CH News that a mother here in Hamilton was arrested after her baby of only 4 months was taken to Hospital with stab wounds to his chest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that the safest place a baby could be was in his Mother's arms. I guess that fad has long passed. What kind of deranged woman would think that it is acceptable to stab her baby? The things that people are capable of now are downright scary to me. I can remember when I was a kid, being able to go to my mother/grandmother and feel totally safe, and not have to worry that they were going to stab me or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids these days have enough to worry about with drugs and weapons at schools. They shouldn't have to worry about mom going off the deep end and stabbing them to death in their sleep. These people should be put away for a long, long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3543703921973051848?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3543703921973051848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3543703921973051848' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3543703921973051848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3543703921973051848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/baby-is-no-longer-safe-in-his-mothers.html' title='A Baby Is No Longer Safe In His Mother&apos;s Arms'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-5555550265781557460</id><published>2007-03-13T07:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T08:00:45.341-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am So Sore</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I went to the Church to help them build the set for their Easter production. Now, this sounds like a fairly simple feat right? Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't ever seen the sets that this guy comes up with, you would be shocked. Now, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bethel&lt;/span&gt; is a huge Church, they've got huge budgets for stuff like this, so they can sort of push the envelope a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two huge set pieces flanking either side of where the choir stands. The one is a platform that is 8 feet deep, 20 feet wide and 8 feet off the ground. This is where I will be performing in the Last Supper scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other monstrosity on the other side has two uses. First, there is the underside, being used as Jesus' tomb. This part is 12 feet deep, 20 feet long and about 6 feet high. Sitting on top of that is the Calvary's cross scene. This, again is 12 feet deep, 20 feet wide, but this time, the set reaches an additional 12 feet in the air, so we're looking at a set piece that is 12 feet deep, 20 feet long and 18 feet high. You try and get strong enough lumber up that high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never claimed to be in the best condition, but I can't remember feeling this sore after any kind of physical work before, except after Sledge Hockey. I'm not an old man, but today, I sure feel like one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-5555550265781557460?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/5555550265781557460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=5555550265781557460' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/5555550265781557460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/5555550265781557460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-am-so-sore.html' title='I Am So Sore'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-7443796399792030706</id><published>2007-03-09T10:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T10:10:55.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Are You Doing On April 13th, 2036?</title><content type='html'>Not sure? Well, mark you calendars and head off to Home Depot and start building your backyard bunkers. NASA is very worried that on that date, April 13th, 2036, an Asteroid will strike Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are giving it a 1 in 45,000 chance that it will actually enter our atmosphere, but this is really worrying the folks down at NASA. They've gone to the United Nations and asked them you fund some program that basically monitors outer space for potential Asteroid threats...isn't NASA supposed to be doing this themselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, if you aren't busy on April 13th, 2036, come on over to our place, we're having an 'End of the World' blow-out BBQ, we'll have Asteroid burgers with all the fixin's. Unfortunately all of the bottled water and canned goods will be off limits, after all, we have to save all of that for the nuclear winter hibernation after the Asteroid strikes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-7443796399792030706?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/7443796399792030706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=7443796399792030706' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7443796399792030706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7443796399792030706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/what-are-you-doing-on-april-13th-2036.html' title='What Are You Doing On April 13th, 2036?'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4839161579983445455</id><published>2007-03-08T11:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T11:35:54.591-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What If?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever wondered, "What If?". Such a silly question, sure you have, to one extent or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes find myself thinking about what life would be like if we were still living in Calgary. We'd darn sure have more money, I'd probably be a front runner for the next District Manager position, and Natasha could have looked into getting her Teaching degree transferred over. But, as life happens, things change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're here in Hamilton, with all of our family, trying to dig ourselves out of the debt that we sunk ourselves in when we moved back. Are we happier? I think so. Natasha and I have become closer in the last few months than we ever would have if we had stayed in Calgary. I think change is a good thing (contrary to what everyone in my family will tell you). Let me rephrase that...change is a good thing in moderation. This coming from a guy who got married and moved 4,000 km away from home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, we're here, happy and together. That's the important thing, that's all that matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4839161579983445455?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4839161579983445455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4839161579983445455' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4839161579983445455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4839161579983445455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/what-if.html' title='What If?'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-8122586157376607679</id><published>2007-03-05T10:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T10:41:01.774-05:00</updated><title type='text'>...Never Again</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been so terrified of something, something you know you had to do, but you still couldn't bring yourself to do it? Up until the last few months, I really hadn't ever felt that way before. I am ashamed to say that if someone told me that they were feeling this way, I would have scoffed and told them to just suck it up and do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My job, as great as it is sometimes, has its downfalls. As a new business owner, I have to build my business from scratch, that means nothing, nada, zilch. To help get us clients, the company asks us to go door knocking to introduce ourselves and the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew from the second day I was doing this, that something just didn't feel right. I was having anxiety attacks first thing in the morning, throwing up and stuff. If it weren't for my wife, I don't think I would have made it this far, she was always behind me, gently nudging me, always supporting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what it is, I have been in sales all of my life, there's nothing that would otherwise intimidate me the way that this door knocking does. There's just something that clicks inside of me when I even think about doing it. My entire body suddenly feels like someone has poured cement into it, I can't move. If I do get myself to the neighbourhood that I want to door knock, I can't seem to get myself out of the car. I don't know what to do sometimes, I just don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're reading this, and I have ever told you to just suck it up and do it, I want you to know that I am sorry for saying such a heartless thing to you, I honestly didn't know what you were going through, now I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope all of this will go away in time, the sooner the better. I am running out of old contacts and an slowly coming to the realization that I will eventually have to go and door knock some more, probably sooner rather than later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll just have to suck it up and do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-8122586157376607679?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/8122586157376607679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=8122586157376607679' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8122586157376607679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/8122586157376607679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/never-again.html' title='...Never Again'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4623508510459930091</id><published>2007-03-02T12:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T12:43:41.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Angelina Jolie Adopts Again</title><content type='html'>I heard on the news this morning that Angelina Jolie wants to adopt another foreign child. Now, don't get me wrong, adoption is a wonderful thing, but don't you think that she should have to go through the motions just like everyone else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time her and Brad Pitt decided to adopt a child, they jumped on a plane and flew right into his village and took him home. This doesn't really sit well with me, they should have to wait just like everyone else. There are people who cannot have children who have waited years for an adopted child to come into their lives, people wait endlessly for their turn. But, if you have a few bucks and are famous, you can just go to the African Orphan Drive-Thru and pick one up and take him home today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that if you want to adopt a child, which is a great idea, you should have to submit your paperwork and wait along with everyone else. That's just the way things go in this world...for the rest of us at least.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4623508510459930091?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4623508510459930091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4623508510459930091' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4623508510459930091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4623508510459930091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/03/angelina-jolie-adopts-again.html' title='Angelina Jolie Adopts Again'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4192364999503579496</id><published>2007-02-27T14:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T14:30:05.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tomb of Christ</title><content type='html'>What a perfect time of year to release a documentary about discovering the 'real' tomb of Christ. James Cameron has just released his documentary for airing on the Discovery Channel that argues that he and some other archaeologists have discovered the real tomb of Christ. His proof being a couple of small caskets with the supposed engraving, 'Judah, son of Jesus' on it. The small caskets are believed to at one time have held the remains of Jesus and Mary Magdalene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, this is nothing more than a stunt to make James Cameron some more money, I guess the Titanic meal ticket has run out. In 1996, when the British Broadcasting Corp. aired a short documentary on the same subject, archaeologists challenged the claims. Amos Kloner, the first archaeologist to examine the site, said the idea fails to hold up by archaeological standards but makes for profitable television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One expert on Ancient Semitic writings, Stephen Pfann is even unsure that the name "Jesus" on the caskets was read correctly. He thinks it's more likely the name "Hanun." Ancient Semitic script is notoriously difficult to decipher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is simply something for people who are 'hardcore agnostic' to point to and say, '...see, there's nothing special about Jesus...' Meanwhile there are books upon books and fact beyond fact that points to something very different from what James Cameron and his film crew are trying to pass off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, don't get me wrong, I would never try to impose my belief system onto anyone else. It's just that sometimes people who aren't 'believers' look too hard and too long for something that they can never conclusively prove wrong. If you're reading this and think that I'm just as nutty as the next guy, that's fine. You're free to believe what you wish, but be careful what you watch on TV, just because it comes from someone who should know better, doesn't always mean that they do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4192364999503579496?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4192364999503579496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4192364999503579496' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4192364999503579496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4192364999503579496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/tomb-of-christ.html' title='The Tomb of Christ'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-1570138451365655265</id><published>2007-02-26T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T11:36:54.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Britney in Rehab, or Luxury Hotel?</title><content type='html'>Back in my day, when we went to rehab, it wasn't for a Swedish massage, or high thread count linens, gourmet meals or private rooms with a view of the beach. It was to kick an addiction once and for all. In my opinion, rehab should be somewhere that you can go to escape the lifestyle that has triggered the addiction (in her case it would be the incredibly posh lifestyle that she had lead since she became famous...or infamous, I can never remember). She should be in a shared room with someone going through the same thing so that they can share and help to heal eachother, with doctors that can treat her sickness, not treat her like a princess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Britney Spears has checked herself into rehab not once, not twice, but three times now, and has finally made it over the 24 hour mark. Mostly due to the fact that if she doesn't clean up, K-Fed is going to take sole custody of their two kids. Now, Britney, in my humble opinion, has totally gone off the deep end. Remember the days when the most scandalous thing that she did was deny that she was still a 'good girl'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it seems like she's said, "...if ya can't beat 'em, give 'em what they want...", and sadly what 'they' want is to see her not wearing any panties, shaving her head, getting tattoos and going totally overboard with the whole 'single party-girl' thing. She must have forgotten about the two young babies she has sitting at home. Well, I guess it's the Nanny's problem when Brit's out on the town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, Britney can clean herself up, stay out of the papers for more than 2 minutes, and spend some quality time with her two babies before K-Fed takes them away. Now, K-Fed, that's a whole other ballgame, and you and I don't have the time or the patience to go over him, sheesh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-1570138451365655265?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/1570138451365655265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=1570138451365655265' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1570138451365655265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1570138451365655265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/britney-in-rehab-or-luxury-hotel.html' title='Britney in Rehab, or Luxury Hotel?'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-9126848884789462779</id><published>2007-02-24T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T10:37:26.331-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nick Cleroux...Sledge Hockey Player</title><content type='html'>As you will read in past postings, I was given the opportunity to try my hand at playing Sledge hockey. Well, I actually took them up on the offer this past week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday night, Steve and I, along with Natasha to 'cheer' us on, made our way to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Chedoke&lt;/span&gt; Arena to join a Sledge hockey team during one of their practice sessions. Now, Steve was able to get out on the ice on a Sledge the previous Saturday, so I was really the green rookie on the ice. Steve and I were the first to arrive at the arena, so we went into the equipment room and selected out Sledges and sticks. Steve has been playing hockey for as long as I can remember, so of course he has all of the appropriate safety equipment to play hockey in, I on the other hand don't. So, on our way out of the equipment room, I grabbed a helmet, the biggest I could find, it was still too &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tight&lt;/span&gt; for my liking, but I had to use it...no helmet...no hockey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Steve and I made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; way into the arena and waited for the ice to be cleared. When the Zamboni was done, we went out onto the ice and strapped &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ourselves&lt;/span&gt; into these Sledges and away we went. I soon realized how dramatically out of shape I really was, I was gassed in about 10 minutes. These guys on the team that we were practicing with are all top notch guys, they really had some fun with us...some actually skated circles around me as I tried to get the puck off of him. Picture this, me scrambling like a mad man to get my Sledge stay upright, and this other player on the team literally skating around me in a circle playing keep-away. I was half amazed that he could &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;maneuver&lt;/span&gt; his Sledge with such ease, and half pissed that I couldn't get the puck from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other problem that both Steve and I ran into was something that we didn't really think about until it was kind of too late...how do we stop? This thought ran through my mind as I was picking up some momentum skating for the puck in the offensive zone. I missed the puck of course, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;luckily&lt;/span&gt; the boards stopped me pretty quick...ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all was said and done, Steve actually scored a goal, and I got an assist on someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; goal. The team that Steve and I played on lost 11-2...I think Steve and I were supposed to play defence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got off the ice, all of the guys were laughing and telling us that they had a blast playing with us, they seemed like a great bunch of guys. I think that this is something that will go down as one of the most entertaining things I have been a part of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-9126848884789462779?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/9126848884789462779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=9126848884789462779' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/9126848884789462779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/9126848884789462779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/nick-clerouxsledge-hockey-player.html' title='Nick Cleroux...Sledge Hockey Player'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3320164808286891347</id><published>2007-02-22T11:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T11:52:40.581-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Prince Harry</title><content type='html'>I read yesterday that Prince Harry will lead a Tank Unit into Iraq, does this sound like a huge publicity stunt to anyone else? Is this 'Prince' really going to go into Iraq and get his butt blown off by some roadside bomb? Seriously, he's probably got some Royal Photographer taking some pictures of him is his uniform with a helmet on sitting in some tank looking all serious like he's really going to blow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; up...come on now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he's actually deployed, he'll do some cushy laundry duty or something where he can say that he '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fought&lt;/span&gt;' in Iraq and 'supported' the cause. In my opinion, this is all just smoke and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mirrors&lt;/span&gt; for Tony Blair to say that he's even got 'Royal' support for this blunder called the war in Iraq. But that blunder is another Blog for another day. For now, let's just all send Harry our best regards for his tough road ahead washing the real Soldier's socks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3320164808286891347?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3320164808286891347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3320164808286891347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3320164808286891347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3320164808286891347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/prince-harry.html' title='Prince Harry'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3071174691853312851</id><published>2007-02-21T13:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T13:26:25.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>'Bum' Fighting</title><content type='html'>A disturbing trend that is taking American middle class families by storm. If you haven't heard of 'Bum Fighting' before, you'd better sit down for this one. Teenagers, usually drunk, high or both go around town looking for homeless men to fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One group of teens in Wisconsin were on one such search. They found 49 year old Rex Baum. They had a few beers with Baum, and then for no reason whatsoever began throwing sticks and piles of leaves at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This then quickly escalated to beating him with whatever they could find. They started out by punching and kicking Baum, after that lost its lustre, they found a BBQ grill and began beating him with that. When Baum's head got lodged in the grill, they got Baum's own baseball bat, which he kept around his site for safety, and began beating him in the head and upper body with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Baum stopped trying to defend himself, one of the boys, who were ages 15, 16 and 17, spread his own feces on Baum's face and cut him with his pocket knife to see if he was still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they had determined that they had all of the fun that they could handle for one night, they covered Baum's body with a plastic sheet and hoped that animals would eat him before the police found him. After this, they went to McDonald's for 'a bite to eat'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When police found the body 2 days later, they began their search for Baum's killer. They probably would have gotten away with the killing, except they just couldn't keep it to themselves. They told just about everyone they met that they '...beat the hell out of some bum.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were all arrested and plead no contest to first degree reckless homicide. They are currently serving 15 years each for their roles in Rex Baum's death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The National Coalition for the Homeless say that in 2006, there were 122 attacks on the homeless, 20 of which resulted in death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of sick society do we live in that this passes for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;amusement&lt;/span&gt;? These kids should get a lot more than 15 years for what they did to this poor man. This guy had nothing to protect himself, and he was beaten to death with the only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;possessions&lt;/span&gt; that he had left in the world. Talk about kicking a man when he's down...literally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3071174691853312851?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3071174691853312851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3071174691853312851' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3071174691853312851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3071174691853312851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/bum-fighting.html' title='&apos;Bum&apos; Fighting'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-7731859528637317800</id><published>2007-02-20T11:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T11:20:43.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Leafs Nation</title><content type='html'>Hello, my name is Nick, and I'm a Toronto Maple Leafs fan. I know, I know, the 'Toronto-Make-Me-Laughs'. The favourite phrase for a die-hard Leafs fan is "...there's always next year...", even if the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;circumstances&lt;/span&gt; are dim, a last place finish, anything, "...there's always next year...".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time the Maple Leafs went all the way was 40 years ago, that's right, 1967. That year haunts every Leaf fan to his core. Every year that goes by is another year that we have to hear from 'the doubters'. There's no satisfying people that aren't Leaf fans. I dare &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;say&lt;/span&gt; that even if they did win the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Stanley&lt;/span&gt; Cup, all of 'the doubters' would likely just call it a charity job, or the other team must have forgotten how to play hockey...anything to make it less significant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I've never been to a Leafs game myself, but that would surely be a dream of mine, to see it all happen before my eyes. Somehow, TV doesn't do live sports any justice, you have to be there to experience all of the sights and sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though, as of the time that I write this, the Leafs sit in the 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and final playoff spot, I know that when they take to the ice tonight, the Air Canada Centre will be sold out, more than 18,000 fans cheering their team, win, lose or draw. That's a real Leafs fan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-7731859528637317800?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/7731859528637317800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=7731859528637317800' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7731859528637317800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7731859528637317800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/leafs-nation.html' title='Leafs Nation'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4713146198022088713</id><published>2007-02-16T12:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T12:13:20.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anna Nicole...Again</title><content type='html'>This just goes to show you how low people are willing to go to make a buck. Hollywood Producers and Directors are already chomping at the bit to make a movie about the life and death of Anna Nicole Smith. Now, I've never been a huge fan of her, but for crying out loud, she hasn't even been buried yet and Hollywood already has the wheel in motion. This day in age, people will stoop to almost any level to make a quick buck. Oh well, I guess it's something we're all going to just have to live with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4713146198022088713?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4713146198022088713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4713146198022088713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4713146198022088713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4713146198022088713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/anna-nicoleagain.html' title='Anna Nicole...Again'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3294244921679847953</id><published>2007-02-14T11:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T12:04:58.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Thy Neighbour</title><content type='html'>For those of you that don't live in the immediate Hamilton/Niagara region, we got about a foot and a half of snow over the last 36 hours. The worst part of it is that most of the snow came overnight, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; cars were snowed in, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; doors were snowed in, and perhaps the worst part of all was that I had a dog with a full bladder wanting to get out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we moved into this survey just over 6 months ago, we've been blessed to meet some great neighbours. The two young ladies on either side of us are great people. The one to our right, Vanessa, is a single mom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; just had a baby, she is nice to talk with and she loves Spencer, and he loves anyone who will look at him. The lady on our left, Michelle, is another single mom, but her two kids are older, still in grade school though. Natasha and I have taken a real liking to Michelle, her and Natasha frequently go shopping together...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;luckily&lt;/span&gt; it's at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt;, so nothing too dangerous. Other than those two, we really haven't met too many people around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That all changed this morning. When I braved the cold weather to try to dig out my walk-way, I remembered that my shovel broke right in half last night trying to do the same thing. One of Michelle's kids offered to go to Vanessa's house for me to borrow her shovel, he brought it right to my door. As I began shoveling, I noticed that just about everyone else was doing the exact same thing. People were just randomly shoveling around the survey and trying to get people's cars &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-stuck from the snow drifts. This really struck me as something very 'neighbourly', not something you'd really expect in this day-in-age. After most of the work was done, 'Thank Yous' were exchanged, and people went on their merry way. For that brief moment in time, everyone was working toward the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;same&lt;/span&gt; goal, once the goal was mostly achieved, things became normal again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, just so you know, nice people are out there, it just sometimes takes a foot and a half of snow for you to see them...as brief as it may be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3294244921679847953?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3294244921679847953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3294244921679847953' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3294244921679847953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3294244921679847953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/love-thy-neighbour.html' title='Love Thy Neighbour'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-1269436757709126958</id><published>2007-02-13T16:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T17:02:59.753-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Retirement</title><content type='html'>As I experience this business more and more, I sometimes have to stop and take a look at what it is that I really do. I have a couple that are clients, they are really nice people, seem to have their heads on straight, but had no idea that they should have started saving for their retirement a long time ago. It dawned on me that maybe, just maybe if I hadn't knocked on their door that fateful morning, that they would have gone 10 more years before thinking about their retirement. Now, just so this is out there, I don't think of myself as the be-all and end-all of Financial Advisors...yet. I'm sure someone at their bank would have eventually mentioned something to them...maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, in todays economy, things are so darn expensive that the last thing on people's minds are how they're going to feed themselves when they retire. They're too busy worrying about the mortgage, the car payment, the kid's college and the list goes on and on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read an article last week on retirement that said that the average Canadian will retire with just over $60,000 in RRSP's. Now, that may seem like a decent amount, but keep in mind that that is all of the income that you'll have to live on for the next 20 years...unless you want to be a Walmart greeter. There is something like $490 Billion in unused RRSP Contribution room all accross Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to tell each and every person I meet that their retirement should be top of mind every year. So, my advice to everyone reading this who is at any stage pre-retirement, whether you're just starting out or whether your knocking on retirement's door, call your Investment Advisor and come up with a plan, heck, call me (as long as you live in Ontario) and I can help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this sounds like a horrible sales pitch, but it's not. In my line of work I see people and hear about people who don't plan ahead, and really pay for it...literally. They work themselves too hard trying to fund a retirement that just won't be very enjoyable. We work too hard when we're young to have to work hard when we're older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody plans to fail, but sadly, many people fail to plan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-1269436757709126958?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/1269436757709126958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=1269436757709126958' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1269436757709126958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/1269436757709126958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/retirement.html' title='Retirement'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-7651469404115619871</id><published>2007-02-09T11:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T11:00:33.337-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sledge Hockey</title><content type='html'>Have you ever seen a hockey game? A rather rediculous question for most people. Even if you hate the sport, you've most likely seen how it is played. Now, imagine that you can't use your legs...how would you play? Simple, you play Sledge Hockey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend called me up last week and invited me out to help him score keep with him for a Sledge Hockey game at Chedoke Arena. I was happy to do it, but I had never heard of Sledge Hockey before, and had no idea that it was a 'handicapped' sport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we arrived at the arena, I noticed that there were quite a few 'handicapped' guys hanging around. Upon further investigation, I found that they were waiting for their ice time! I was dumbfounded, how do handicapped people play hockey? That question was soon answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the Directors of the Sledge Hockey league was kind enough so show us how things worked. He gave us a rule sheet, and showed us the 'Sledge'. If you haven't seen one, they're kind of hard to describe, but basically they're chairs without legs attached to skate blades. The players legs are strapped in, and they use 2 modified sticks (which are only about 6" long) with picks on the end to propell themselves down the ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the ice surface they use is the same as any other ice rink, except the team bench and penalty box areas are actually on the ice (for obvious reasons). As I watched in amazement, these athletes (I wouldn't call them anything less) scoot around the ice with what seemed to be the greatest of ease, I was shocked to learn that there were acually some able bodied players on the teams as well! What other sport can you think of that would put both handicapped and able bodied players on the same level? I can imagine that it would be quite an upper body workout to do this for an hour, but these guys certainly seem to be enjoying themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever have a free Saturday afternoon, I would surely recommend that you head down to Chedoke Arena and watch these guys play. I promise that you've never seen anything like it, I sure haven't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Director of the league invited us back for their next game tomorrow to score keep, and to try out a Slegde for ourselves! I'm not sure that I'll be able to live up to the standard set by the players, but I'll sure try to at least stay right side up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-7651469404115619871?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/7651469404115619871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=7651469404115619871' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7651469404115619871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7651469404115619871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/sledge-hockey.html' title='Sledge Hockey'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3678836632524424620</id><published>2007-02-09T10:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T10:55:19.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>James Brown is Still With Us...Literally</title><content type='html'>I found out today that the late James Brown, who by the way died almost 2 months ago, has still not been laid to rest. That's right, he is sitting in some freezer somewhere waiting for his family to stop their squabbling and decide what to do with him and his estate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sounds so stupid to me...why would you prolong the suffering of your family by not allowing someone their right to a proper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;burial&lt;/span&gt;? People these days have their priorities way to screwed up for my liking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put the guy in the ground, shut up and get on with your lives. I'm sure James Brown had more than enough money sitting around to make you all very, very happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3678836632524424620?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3678836632524424620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3678836632524424620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3678836632524424620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3678836632524424620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/james-brown-is-still-with-usliterally.html' title='James Brown is Still With Us...Literally'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-4412431746302078182</id><published>2007-02-09T10:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T16:20:47.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anna Nicole = Marilyn Monroe?</title><content type='html'>It has been said that with the mysterious passing of Anna Nicole Smith, that she could be thought of as the Marilyn Monroe of the 21st century. This is absolutely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;absurd&lt;/span&gt;! Anna Nicole Smith is nothing more than a middle-aged Paris Hilton, famous for being famous, and no other real reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I do have sympathy for the poor woman. After all, the did loose her son to an apparent drug overdose only 3 days after giving birth to a baby girl, who is now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;parentless&lt;/span&gt; because she never told anyone who the father was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she got her first exposure to the lime-light years ago for marrying some 90 year old oil tycoon and then trying to collect on his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;multi&lt;/span&gt;-billion dollar estate after he 'surprisingly' died of old age! I guess that legal battle is finally over, and now the two love-birds can be together again...right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, there are some people who are going to make-out like gang-busters off of this. Namely, all of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sleazy&lt;/span&gt; tabloid news shows &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; will undoubtedly have their fair share of 'exclusives' and 'scoops'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only person who really looses in this whole ordeal is the helpless baby girl who now has no mother, and dozens of potential fathers! She may never know for sure who her real father is if this court case to have DNA samples taken never gets resolved!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-4412431746302078182?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/4412431746302078182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=4412431746302078182' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4412431746302078182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/4412431746302078182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/anna-nicole-marilyn-monroe.html' title='Anna Nicole = Marilyn Monroe?'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3948667356061553522</id><published>2007-02-07T09:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T09:17:55.009-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Career</title><content type='html'>As you may know, I have started a new journey in my life. I am now an Investment Broker with Edward Jones. They're a great company to work for, they offer you all of the support in the world, which is good because most of us new Brokers are scared out of our minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The basic outline of the new job is as follows:&lt;br /&gt;3 Months of Studying for your various Securities Licenses&lt;br /&gt;1 Week of Head Office Training&lt;br /&gt;3 Weeks of Prospecting (Door Knocking)&lt;br /&gt;3 Weeks of In-Branch Training and more Prospecting&lt;br /&gt;2 Weeks of Prospecting (First and Second Contacts)&lt;br /&gt;1 Week of Head Office Training&lt;br /&gt;17 Weeks of Field Experience (You are actually Licensed at this point)&lt;br /&gt;1 Week of Head Office Training&lt;br /&gt;1 Lifetime of Work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently in the 4th week of my 17 week Field Experience. Basically I am now a Small Business Owner trying to make it all work. I have to try to balance my Door Knocking, Phone Calls, Appointments and basically every other thing that may come up during the day. If all of this doesn't seem too bad to handle, I can send you the card of our recruiter. I have had to will myself out of bed every morning for the last 2 months trying to convince myself that 'everything will be alright'. I've had to go through bouts of anxiety that I never knew how to handle. The worst is when you finally do convince yourself that 'everything will be alright', someone you either phone or knock on their door tell you to (figuratively of course) 'go die alone in a dark corner'. There is nothing scarier to me than the unknown, and right now, not very much is known to me. I've had some modest success thus far, but the well is running dry. Still, to this point, I've had more cancellations than actual appointments, but I guess I have no other choice than to keep going. The last thing that I would want, is for me to look back and find out that I was 'only 3 feet away from the gold'. So, until either the anxiety completely takes me over, or I get that Million Dollar cheque, I'll have to keep plugging away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3948667356061553522?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3948667356061553522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3948667356061553522' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3948667356061553522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3948667356061553522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-new-career_07.html' title='My New Career'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-3760433008348759598</id><published>2007-02-05T09:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T15:05:30.151-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Bowl XLI...continued</title><content type='html'>Well, the game is in the books, the Indianapolis Colts are your Super Bowl XLI champs. To further my point from yesterday about the 'importance' of the game itself, we didn't even get to see the trophy presentation! All of Canada was watching the Super Bowl on Global TV, who was getting the signal broadcast to them from CBS in the States. No sooner did we see Peyton Manning and his team begin to celebrate their victory over the Chicago Bears, Global cuts to commercial and the next thing we see is Howie Mandel giving his into to the new Deal or No Deal Canada. This really made the whole game feel like a cheap means to an end, the end being the premiere of Deal or No Deal Canada. Now, that being said, Deal or No Deal Canada was a great show, the first contestant (whose shirt obviously wasn't available in Extra Extra Small I guess) walked away with $109,000...great show...very entertaining. But I think that the fact that Global didn't feel the need to show the presentation of the Vince Lombardi trophy to the Colts was a little silly. Oh well, life goes on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-3760433008348759598?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/3760433008348759598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=3760433008348759598' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3760433008348759598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/3760433008348759598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/super-bowl-xlicontinued.html' title='Super Bowl XLI...continued'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1862950771693633605.post-7522459127581600529</id><published>2007-02-04T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T09:08:45.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Bowl XLI</title><content type='html'>Tonight, more than 100 million people will plop themselves in front of their television sets and watch the Chicago Bears take on the Indianapolis Colts play for the most coveted prize in professional football...or will they? If you go into any grocery store, and ask any random person who is buying that last minute bag of chips, what they will be watching for tonight, you would be surprised to find that most people will tell you that they will be watching for the Super Bowl commercials, or Prince's half-time show, or Billy Joel singing the national anthem. The Super Bowl has become so much more than just a football game, in fact, it seems to me that the game has become so secondary to all of the other hoop-la that surrounds the game, that I don't think that anyone would notice if the game itself didn't even take place! Who can remember who won the Super Bowl two years ago?...I can't. I do remember that Janet Jackson's boob popped out though. Who watches the Super Bowl for the game anymore? I feel sorry for the players who have been preparing their whole careers for this moment, they're about to be over shaddowed by some $2.3 million dollar commercial, a washed up pop star who can't keep his own name straight...and a Piano Man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1862950771693633605-7522459127581600529?l=cleroux.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/feeds/7522459127581600529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1862950771693633605&amp;postID=7522459127581600529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7522459127581600529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1862950771693633605/posts/default/7522459127581600529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cleroux.blogspot.com/2007/02/super-bowl-xli.html' title='Super Bowl XLI'/><author><name>Nick Cleroux</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01498283270511276468</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
