<?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-4859375145973200947</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:36:55.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>radiance</title><subtitle type='html'>holding the stars like paintings we are pull one down for me colors alive like radiance swimming back to your sea i can’t explain this feeling that’s been grounding me for so long keeping faith i move on praying for something soon if i could only make a sound</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Mar</name><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>115</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4859375145973200947.post-1718574434735937968</id><published>2008-08-13T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T16:04:26.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sad to say goodbye to blogger.  but i'm moving on.  you can find my domain here (http://hibisc.us) and the blog here (http://hibisc.us/blog).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1718574434735937968?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1718574434735937968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1718574434735937968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1718574434735937968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1718574434735937968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/08/moving.html' title='Moving!'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4212554379908516159</id><published>2008-08-12T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T13:31:23.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Incomplete" by Alanis</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i feel horrible.  i'm sore from working out, and absolutely exhaused.  i'm sleep deprived, and haven't been eating well.  i'm achy and just feel like shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i swear, everything that could go wrong is going wrong.  now, the biggest problem of all; the condo sale might not go through.  i must admit, i had a small sense of relief because there is so much i have to do.  besides the packing, i'm trying to coordinate power of attorney, setting up transportation to get my shit out, transferring insurance around, moving gyms, getting all the repairs coordinated, etc etc.  so much i can't remember it all.  on top of that, i'm trying to finish up this quarter of school and register for next quarter.  i'm trying to keep up my exercise.  i'm trying to plan for vacation and buy things and get ready.  it is so overwhelming i just want to hide and cry.  i know it probably sounds stupid.. oh why can't she handle it.... well, FUCK.  I CAN'T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4212554379908516159?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4212554379908516159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4212554379908516159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4212554379908516159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4212554379908516159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/08/incomplete-by-alanis.html' title='&quot;Incomplete&quot; by Alanis'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7452539757580594284</id><published>2008-08-11T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T11:30:10.039-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chat</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;a funny exchange with a friend...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[11:14] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;it's like we're the opposite of an affair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(211, 89, 0);"&gt;[11:14] mfransonakagi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11;"&gt;ha.  but, what is that?  like.. anti-lovers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(211, 89, 0);"&gt;[11:14] mfransonakagi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11;"&gt;like.. i actually hate you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:14] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;nothing really going on, but publicly it sounds like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:14] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;lol yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(211, 89, 0);"&gt;[11:15] mfransonakagi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11;"&gt;hah.  i suppose it is kinda like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:16] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;like i realized some people don't follow as many people as me.. so my posts end up concentrated on twitter..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:17] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;so i'm this horrible womanizer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(211, 89, 0);"&gt;[11:17] mfransonakagi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11;"&gt;this is true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:17] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(211, 89, 0);"&gt;[11:17] mfransonakagi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11;"&gt;who says it's horrible though?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:17] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;i'm dr. horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:17] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;i have a ph.d. in horribleness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(211, 89, 0);"&gt;[11:18] mfransonakagi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11;"&gt;that's advanced horribleness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(211, 89, 0);"&gt;[11:24] mfransonakagi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11;"&gt;i'm so going to refer to you as my anti-affair now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:24] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:25] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;all the downsides of an affair with none of the fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(1, 99, 179);"&gt;[11:25] sxtxixtxcxh: &lt;/span&gt;Jesus Approved™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(211, 89, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7452539757580594284?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7452539757580594284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7452539757580594284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7452539757580594284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7452539757580594284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/08/chat.html' title='Chat'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4978102437623282616</id><published>2008-08-11T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T08:45:27.335-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;he was right.  he said that moving would have some emotional components but i brushed that aside.  i felt like i was over it.  this was just the final step.  i'm running on 3 hours of sleep.  i packed for hours last night, and then ran a little over 6 miles this morning.  it's fumes, i tell you.  nothing but fumes.  so, packing up... i threw out a lot of stuff; i didn't know what else to do.  what do you do when you're moving on but everything reminds you or is tied to your previous life the past  5 or 6 years?  i'll keep a few things but mostly, it's just taking a deep breath and packing up and moving on.  there is some sadness in it that i didn't see coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4978102437623282616?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4978102437623282616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4978102437623282616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4978102437623282616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4978102437623282616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/08/he-was-right.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6743935279834017164</id><published>2008-08-09T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T19:54:42.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;life has been incredibly busy.  i've not blogged and so i'm really behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the condo sold!!  this has been a year in the making.  the process has been difficult and is sucking a lot of time and energy from me but it's so important.  the thought of being in my own place with my kitty is just amazing.  i can't wait.  i can live normally again.  i will be living downtown for the first time and i am so excited.  the problem is, the condo is closing while i'm on vacation so i'm planning for vacation and packing up my life at the same time.  it feels so overwhelming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this quarter of school is almost over.  i did good, i got a 4.0 in my class.  i'm signing up for anatomy &amp;amp; physiology 2 for fall quarter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;family is ok.  i've hit some rough spots.  mostly surrounding the amount of time i spend with them and balancing that with the rest of my life.  they're not ready to move on from my divorce and are not really able to accept it right now and that makes things hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got a promotion at work!  it has been a while coming but i'm glad.  i do work hard and i'm happy it's paid off.  literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in my personal life, things are wonderful.  i believe progress is very important.  that said, there's a thin line between moving too fast and standing still.  so, i try to balance it.  we try to balance it.  to speak to progress, for me, something that might not seem like a big deal has really made an impact on me as of recent.  i have a key.  perhaps temporarily or whatever, but i have a key.  it seems like a big step; i'm not sure why.  but, it means a lot to me.  and, it makes me glow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm off to zoka to have some coffee and read.  good night.  sorry for the short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6743935279834017164?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6743935279834017164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6743935279834017164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6743935279834017164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6743935279834017164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/08/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7333524622879240700</id><published>2008-07-28T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T11:51:49.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence..Unfotunately</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;oh yes, i hate work today.  i'm convinced some people that work at real want me to have a heart attack and die at my desk.  fuckers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7333524622879240700?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7333524622879240700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7333524622879240700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7333524622879240700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7333524622879240700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/silenceunfotunately.html' title='Silence..Unfotunately'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-421152719231367220</id><published>2008-07-22T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T09:52:40.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Swan Dive" from "Before The Amplifiers...Live Acoustic" by Sister Hazel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;it's an acoustic type of music day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish there was a blogger app for iphone. i don't want to switch to wordpress but they sure do make it appealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-421152719231367220?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/421152719231367220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=421152719231367220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/421152719231367220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/421152719231367220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/swan-dive-from-before-amplifierslive.html' title='&quot;Swan Dive&quot; from &quot;Before The Amplifiers...Live Acoustic&quot; by Sister Hazel'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8458400332614656686</id><published>2008-07-21T15:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T15:57:01.771-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Criminal" by Disturbed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;my body has been effing me up the past month or so.  it seems like right after i get over something, i get something else.  it's frustrating.  i've always been healthy, so this has really beaten me down.  it's crushed my morale in many ways, and i try to stay positive about it but it's difficult.  and now, the most serious thing has happened and i have to go in for 'advanced' testing for abnormal test results i just received today.  please, something or someone help me get through this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;otherwise, if i can bring myself past that, i am good.  the motorcycling is improving.  i'm getting practice in, and having someone ride with me is incredibly helpful.  it calms me down, it helps build my confidence, it keeps me from freaking out, and it makes it more enjoyable.  i know i have a lot to learn but i'm more confident now, than ever, that i CAN do this.  it's just slow going.  i went on the freeway for a short this morning and maybe i shouldn't have, but i felt fine.  i wanted to start getting used to the wind, and the traffic.  and, i feel good that i did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life is busy still.  between school, switching realtors (and cleaning to get the place on the market again), preparing for vacation (by tanning and shopping), motorcycling, spending time with the boyfriend, and keeping my exercising up -- i'm about tapped out.  regardless, i'm managing my time as best i can.  and, i'm feeling extremely content with my personal life.  most of my energy is pouring into building my relationship with the BF, but it always feels worth it.  it's very important to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8458400332614656686?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8458400332614656686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8458400332614656686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8458400332614656686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8458400332614656686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/criminal-by-disturbed.html' title='&quot;Criminal&quot; by Disturbed'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4681415954398293132</id><published>2008-07-14T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T13:42:59.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>these are my downfalls.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;1. i don't like to fail.&lt;br /&gt;2. i am stubborn.&lt;br /&gt;3. i don't know how to accept help.&lt;br /&gt;4. sometimes i hide.&lt;br /&gt;5. i get frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;6. i push people away.&lt;br /&gt;7. i don't ask for help.&lt;br /&gt;8. i am shy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had a bad weekend.  in fact, i had a bad week.  i was completely out of my element, and i acted in ways that ashamed me.  in short, i kind of hated myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i took the motorcycle safety class with my boyfriend, and while i knew it would be stressful, i had no idea how it was going to affect me.  i've had such a mental block about manual driving that i actually was facing the one thing i actually had accepted i was a failure at.  i've had this block for maybe 15 years and so to try to get over it in one weekend was enormous pressure.  not only that, coming to grips with something i really wanted, and feeling so alone in not being able to catch on quickly made me disappointed in myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the end, i passed.  barely.  i'm very happy about it but it's a double edged sword because, to get to this point, i just feel so horrible about how i acted.  (see #1-#7 above).  it's always been hard for me to let myself go and just BE upset, or sad, or angry -- around someone else.  i've always wanted to keep that to myself.  maybe to appear strong.. maybe to spare someone else from dealing with it.. maybe to fool myself into believing i can handle the world in my own hands.  regardless, it's wrong.  and even though being completely naked and open with my upsetness was very difficult and unpleasant, i'm trying to be okay with it happening.  it's a learning experience.  it was new.  and, all i can do is learn from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reading over the above list, it makes me sound incredibly unstable and generally bitchy and completely type a.  i should say, this behavior from me is rare.  but, obviously, things can trigger it.  i have things to work on.  and, now i know where my starting point is.  i have confidence that i can mold myself away from these habits.  and, in the otherwise more stable and happy times, i'll still remember the support structure that is in place for me, should i need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, to #8 above, i'm better about it but i've always been shy.  maybe part of it stems from growing up fat.  who knows.  anyway, i brought it up because later this week, dinner is planned with my boyfriend and his relatives.  i'm excited, but scared.  i always am in those kinds of situations.  hope i don't do or say something stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4681415954398293132?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4681415954398293132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4681415954398293132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4681415954398293132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4681415954398293132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/these-are-my-downfalls.html' title='these are my downfalls.'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4124220789851276547</id><published>2008-07-10T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T10:42:13.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hectic Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;a lot is going on today.  i don't feel like i will have a second to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, i feel better.  i just need a little touch, a little reassurance.  it goes a long way.  and, to know i am not alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4124220789851276547?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4124220789851276547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4124220789851276547' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4124220789851276547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4124220789851276547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/hectic-day.html' title='Hectic Day'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-1653022085446238332</id><published>2008-07-09T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T12:56:11.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Unwell" by Matchbox Twenty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i ran during lunch, and then sat in the sculpture park in the grass by myself for a half hour.  i craved the run like nothing else.  the chance to expend the energy was so greatly needed.  i know what i'm feeling now.  it's that i'm unsure.  it's that i want this, this thing, SO BAD, but at the same time, i am so scared.  i'm scared of the unknown.  i've got myself wound up prematurely.  and, i'm beginning to control it but it doesn't mean i don't have these horrible urges to run.  because, i do.  but there's nothing but shame in that.  there is too much to lose to let my fear get the best of me.  i just need to breathe.  to let this pass.  it will come back, but not living through the experiences would be like death.  it would mean i gave up.  and, that's not an option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1653022085446238332?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1653022085446238332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1653022085446238332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1653022085446238332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1653022085446238332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/unwell-by-matchbox-twenty.html' title='&quot;Unwell&quot; by Matchbox Twenty'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-593654423536010315</id><published>2008-07-09T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T10:43:51.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's A Good Thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;one thing i can do is realize when something is getting out of hand.  it's been a while since i've become involved with anything online that has really kept my attention.  and now, it's swung too far the other way.  this twitter/twinkle thing has got to stop.  not stop completely but i just need to calm it down.  it reminds me of why i don't like to chat with people online.  it reminds me of all the things i hate about social networking in the cyber world.  if that means i have to stop completely, then i do.  it just shouldn't be such a big deal.  why it even holds my attention, i don't know other than i'm a stimulus whore.  it just means i need to find other things to occupy my time.  like reading.  like spending time outdoors.  i see people on twinkle come and go.  sometimes they're around, sometimes they're not.  i should be that person.  holding constant conversations with multiple people that i don't even know is so time consuming and really, for what.  i've met a few people from twitter who seem nice, but is it really ever going to be anything like a long lasting friendship?  probably not.  it's just time i waste because i can.  and now, i'm making it a priority to not waste my time that way.  i don't have enough time to waste that it should be given so freely to something so trivial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on another note, i'm feeling incredibly uncomfortable and uneasy today.  it's almost overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-593654423536010315?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/593654423536010315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=593654423536010315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/593654423536010315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/593654423536010315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-good-thing.html' title='It&apos;s A Good Thing'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5616016891278618378</id><published>2008-07-07T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T21:46:08.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i don't treat my family right.  i can always be better.  but yet, my dad still takes care of me.  he helps me with the things i can't do.  and that's a lot.  he helps me with the silly things i lack knowledge of, and without a husband around, don't have anyone to help me with.  so, for that, i am grateful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5616016891278618378?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5616016891278618378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5616016891278618378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5616016891278618378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5616016891278618378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-dont-treat-my-family-right.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-2000286427292508871</id><published>2008-07-07T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T21:41:07.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today.. and just today.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;when you think about life and death, things fall into perspective. suddenly, really, i want to spend my time as i crave to spend it. i want to say the things i am scared to say. i want to not be afraid of letting go. i want to be spontaneous and sometimes, i want it to be okay that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i need you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-2000286427292508871?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/2000286427292508871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=2000286427292508871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2000286427292508871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2000286427292508871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/today-and-just-today.html' title='Today.. and just today.'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-2221308898542584974</id><published>2008-07-07T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T09:20:50.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the holiday weekend is over.  i had a great one.  i actually felt like i got away from work, and was really able to enjoy myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;that is not to say it wasn't busy.  i spent the weekend with ryan and we expend a lot of energy when we are together.  all that really matters to me though, is that i'm with him.  even when i hit low points, he's there for me.  it's this amazing feeling of really, truly, having someone on your side.  someone that looks out for you, and can comfort you, even when you feel like you don't want it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;we read a bit, we ran, we went shopping, we saw fireworks .. nothing earth shattering on that front.  as much as i can share on another front is to say, we discover things.  i won't be dramatic, but this is a big deal for me.  it's opened my eyes to what really is possible when you are open minded and feel completely safe with another person.  i wouldn't trade it for anything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;as for me, i bought a motorcycle, and i just found out i got a promotion at work.  both exciting for me personally.  and, on another personal note, the vacation countdown sits at 45 days.  so excited.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-2221308898542584974?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/2221308898542584974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=2221308898542584974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2221308898542584974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2221308898542584974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/holiday-weekend-is-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4856612717778247633</id><published>2008-07-01T10:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T10:15:27.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...............................</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;it feels like fear.  actually, more than i tend to feel fear, i tend to have desires.  i desire to run.  along with the running comes some introverted-ness for a bit, and maybe some outlandishness.  there's no rhyme or reason that these feelings wave over me; at least nothing in my consciousness.  i'm not focused on work and i'm trying to stay focused on my homework but it's not working very well.  my moodiness does bother me, but i feel good about letting it out here in my own confines, rather than bothering anyone with it.  it'll pass; it always does.  but until i get myself to that point (and only i should be able to), things suck.  i don't do the whole balancing thing very well - i want to be comforted by others but is there really comfort in that?  that isn't being self sufficient.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4856612717778247633?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4856612717778247633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4856612717778247633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4856612717778247633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4856612717778247633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title='...............................'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-1214533758299394209</id><published>2008-07-01T10:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T10:06:26.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>@#()@)%(*q@&amp;$(*@(*%#&amp;($</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;just feeling like shit today.  it came on all of a sudden also.  i'm struggling with this medication i'm on, and i'm tired.  i'm uneasy.  it's a fuck-the-world kind of day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1214533758299394209?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1214533758299394209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1214533758299394209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1214533758299394209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1214533758299394209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/07/q.html' title='@#()@)%(*q@&amp;$(*@(*%#&amp;($'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5273064759378515658</id><published>2008-06-26T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T13:23:19.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Inside The Fire" by Disturbed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i am a coward.  i am so not prepared to go back to school.  i'm actually dreading it.  and, it's affecting my mood, and my work, and it's making me unhappy.  i know it won't be as bad as i think it will be, but still.  i want to quit.  i don't want to go.  i want to keep myself from feeling this uncomfortable.  AHH!!!  but, this is my future we're talking about.  i need to suck it up - it's just hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5273064759378515658?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5273064759378515658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5273064759378515658' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5273064759378515658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5273064759378515658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/inside-fire-by-disturbed.html' title='&quot;Inside The Fire&quot; by Disturbed'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-279925452969860304</id><published>2008-06-23T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T14:00:00.717-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confused</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;birth control is confusing. not to be too TMI, but i've been having issues with what i was on so i switched. now, i pinged my doctor about what i can do to rectify my side effects, and they're telling me to double my dose. they did not give me instructions on how long to do it, or how it might affect the long term pill takeage. WTF. further, i started looking up information and saw others talking about their side effects. i started getting freaked out about people saying they lost their sex drive, they started breaking out, they started gaining weight ... and that got me thinking, am i really living with a supressed libido right now? do i not know it because i'm on the pill? maybe i'm just getting freaked out. i don't know. argh, frustrating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-279925452969860304?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/279925452969860304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=279925452969860304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/279925452969860304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/279925452969860304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/confused.html' title='Confused'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8572482007051353660</id><published>2008-06-23T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T13:16:06.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathing ... Hard</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;our lunchtime workout class was cut to 1/2 hour because our trainer measured our body fat.  mine is 29%.  &lt;strong&gt;29%!!  &lt;/strong&gt;he said healty women are 17-23% and otherwise, you're considered obese.  there is no freakin' way i should consider myself obese on any level.  true, i can be more fit.  i feel like i've come a long way, and in some senses, this knocked me down.  i ran 8 miles this morning and decided i could handle lunchtime also.  but, who knew a 1/2 hour workout could be so difficult.  he worked us out extremely hard, and at one point during squats, my legs gave out.  i tried hard, but i think i just pushed my limit.  *sigh* here's to a low key rest of the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8572482007051353660?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8572482007051353660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8572482007051353660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8572482007051353660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8572482007051353660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/breathing-hard.html' title='Breathing ... Hard'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4807958059414257359</id><published>2008-06-23T00:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T00:47:23.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence</title><content type='html'>due to a conversation that came up over the weekend, i've begun thinking again (and more) about what i want out of a relationship.  during the height of my transition phase, i wasn't sure i wanted something long-term.  i wasn't sure i could BE in something long-term comfortably.  i thought maybe serial monogamy was something i was destined for.  then, i'd never get passed the honeymoon phase of a relationship, and maybe that high was something i needed to feel over and over again.  this may sound like a selfish and intimacy-lacking way to live in relationships.  i can't say yet 100% if this is right or wrong for me.  what i do know, is the opportunity to be poly could change this.  it could give me the ability to have a long-term, intimate, relationship as well as a way to still feel the rush of a new partner now and then.  how this will play out for me, i don't know.  i can't even say that being poly would be the cure-all for me.  i don't know that either because i have not lived it.  i know it's worth a helluva chance and a bold effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even then, i want to believe (deep down) that i am capable of being committed to someone and something greater than just myself.  i want to be loyal, and honest, and devoted, and giving.. and i want someone to gladly accept that from me.  i can't know if i will ever get married again.  i can't rule it out either.  i just want to know that committment can be possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4807958059414257359?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4807958059414257359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4807958059414257359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4807958059414257359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4807958059414257359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/silence_23.html' title='Silence'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6482439777528442699</id><published>2008-06-20T10:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T11:07:03.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"End of the World" by Armor For Sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i find it incredibly difficult to build a social circle.  sometimes, so much as it's not always worth it.  i guess in the big scheme of things, when i try to balance my family, my significant other, my career, my free time, and my exercise, there isn't a lot of time left for building friendships.  plus, when i prioritize, all those other things come first.  so, it's really my own undoing and sometimes it's okay and sometimes it's not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i had thought this summer would end up being kind of blah, but it's shaping up to be much the opposite.  i'm taking a class to learn how to ride a motorcycle (with the intent of getting rid of my car), i'm taking nursing classes, i'm going on vacation, and i'm going to run a race (maybe two!).  i'd like to find time to volunteer also, but it's unlikely i will actually do that.  yet, despite all these plans, there's still a part of me that feels empty.  maybe i'm not filling it with the right things.  and if that's the case, i don't know what 'right' is yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6482439777528442699?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6482439777528442699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6482439777528442699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6482439777528442699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6482439777528442699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/end-of-world-by-armor-for-sleep.html' title='&quot;End of the World&quot; by Armor For Sleep'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8347833781926256411</id><published>2008-06-16T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T23:20:53.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;it might seem sappy but i cry when i watch grey's anatomy.  it's the feelings behind the relationships, it's how they relate to medicine, and it's how i see my life played out on the small screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's the alzheimer's.  it has brought me so many feelings that i can't let go of, and really know i have never fully explored, understood, or come to grips with.  i may never get to that point, and if i don't, i'll be a worse off person for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel things that just don't seem right.  in the big scheme of the world and what is acceptable, i suddenly become a complete hypocrite, evil, horrible human.  and, i do not know how to deal with it.  i don't know if it's right to just feel and accept it?  do i try to share it and let everyone else try to make me believe i'm really a good person?  i don't know.  but, i have never been in a place where i felt i could completely open up to anyone.  and so i struggle by myself, and continuously worry about what this all is doing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel selfish.  i always seem so concerned with how i am dealing with this.  i think about others, but mostly in relation to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel jealous.  i wonder how others can be so 'okay' on the outside in dealing with mom day to day.  i wish i could be that - i wish i could be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i live in denial.  i live every moment of every day in denial.  i understand medically what is happening but emotionally, i don't want to deal with it.  i don't know how.  i run away.  in the short instances i am around her, i don't know what to say.  i don't know how to act.  and this hurts.  i used to always try to be the happy, upbeat one.. but it doesn't seem to matter anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, i have thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, i get mad at the world.  it doesn't seem fair.  why did this have to happen to me and my family.  what did we do to deserve this?  am i being punished?  and, then, when i believe i am being punished, i also believe i deserve it.  i can never think of another explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, i think it's not worth it.  it's been almost 5 years since she was officially diagnosed.  i tried so hard early on.  i talked to her on the phone every morning.  i had her over on the weekends and i made lunch.  now, i can't bear to be alone with her.  i feel lost.  when i think about it not being worth it, i always end up saying - 'what's the use, does it really matter anymore?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, i wish it was over.  my mom is dying.  the call alzheimer's the long goodbye - and it is just that.  but, in reality, i've already said goodbye.  i don't know when or how, but all i know now, is that it's too late.  she's not MY mom anymore.  she's not even a sliver of what i knew her as.  and, this hurts because i never realized it was happening.  that my window for goodbye was quickly approaching. the reflection of what was and should have been is so difficult to face.  all the time i never took, all the things we never did, all the things i never said.  i don't think a day will go by the rest of my life that i don't mourn that.  i will never be able to look back on this horrible life experience and think, 'yeah, i did all i could'.  i know i didn't.  i know i'm not.  i just don't know how to turn this around.  sometimes i want to accept that maybe i just can't do it.  that maybe i'm just not strong enough, or good enough, to be there for her through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, i am mad at her.  i'm mad that she got this.  i am mad that there is a possibility i could get it.  and i'm mad for all the years that were taken from me with her.  all the things she'll never know about me.  i'm mad that my dad has to do this and has to live through and past it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and sometimes, i'm just unbearably sad.  and i cry.  and i wish, so hard, that something about it could be easy.  that some good in the world would spare me and us some small glimmer of hope.  but then, i realize, there is none.  my reality is this foggy dark surrounding with no escape.  and then -- nothing happens.  here i am, still the same, to face another day of the feelings.  alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8347833781926256411?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8347833781926256411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8347833781926256411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8347833781926256411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8347833781926256411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/silence.html' title='Silence'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6181511025307842141</id><published>2008-06-16T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T16:57:52.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Fall For You" by Secondhand Serenade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the vacation countdown is on.  66 days and counting .. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6181511025307842141?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6181511025307842141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6181511025307842141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6181511025307842141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6181511025307842141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/fall-for-you-by-secondhand-serenade.html' title='&quot;Fall For You&quot; by Secondhand Serenade'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5832893519688273926</id><published>2008-06-16T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T10:32:44.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Stranger" by Secondhand Serenade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i did it.  i ate meat.  and, not just meat... a cheeseburger!  two actually.. with a strawberry milkshake.  i savored it and enjoyed it to no end.  i'm proud of myself for actually doing it.  the craving is gone now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i know people don't enjoy reading about relationships.  hell, i don't like hearing about all the drama and shit that others sometimes want to dump.  on the flipside, all the lovey stuff sometimes is too much for me also.  so, i'll keep it brief.  there's not much to say, other than, i am in a good place.  never before have i found the blend of comfort, vulnerability, silliness, sexuality, and chemistry to be so strong.  there is an existance on many levels, which speaks to both our abilities to be an individual first, and there for each other, second.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;further, lately, my world has felt like two seperate entities.  there's my 'me' time, which encompasses work, and family, and what i do alone.  this feels very normal.  it is every-day.  then, there is the 'us' time.  this is where i feel like i glow.  it feels like another dimension.. it's the world revolving around me and him and i can tune out everything else as much or as little as i like.  hopping between these two entities keeps life interesting for me, right now, with some other small flares thrown in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5832893519688273926?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5832893519688273926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5832893519688273926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5832893519688273926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5832893519688273926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/stranger-by-secondhand-serenade.html' title='&quot;Stranger&quot; by Secondhand Serenade'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-108031954284056004</id><published>2008-06-12T14:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T14:24:30.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Despite What You've Been Told" by Two Gallants</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the sun has finally broken through.  work seems to be kind of light with my manager gone.  i'm enjoying the slightly relaxed environment.  i am looking forward to the weekend also.  i always enjoy my weekends but i plan for this one to be diverse.  a little relaxing, some reading, some exercise, some gaming.. mostly just appreciating and enjoying my time with my favorite person. :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-108031954284056004?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/108031954284056004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=108031954284056004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/108031954284056004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/108031954284056004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/despite-what-youve-been-told-by-two.html' title='&quot;Despite What You&apos;ve Been Told&quot; by Two Gallants'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6558843532656486203</id><published>2008-06-12T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T14:15:30.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Self Inflicted" by Katy Perry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sometimes i can be socially retarded.  one of these areas revolves around meeting people i've chatted with online, in person.  i'm deathly afraid of it.  i always have been.  i might have said this before but i like it when people are similar in person and online.  most people are not.  thus, there is a very high chance someone you like online, you will not like in person.  i want to get over this.  mostly because of twinkle, i've discovered some pretty cool people online that live near me.  and, i don't want to miss out on a chance to make a new friend because i'm afraid.  so, i'm trying to be open about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6558843532656486203?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6558843532656486203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6558843532656486203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6558843532656486203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6558843532656486203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/self-inflicted-by-katy-perry.html' title='&quot;Self Inflicted&quot; by Katy Perry'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4684778316602933756</id><published>2008-06-11T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T08:45:19.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i had a rough go at it yesterday.  i wanted to blog but didn't have my laptop, that might have been for the better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i've calmed down.  one thing i can say, is that i finally re-discovered my motivation for pursuing a medical career.  it was sitting right infront of my face all along.. i just neglected to notice, again.  i signed up for classes, i'm going to focus.  the path i want to take is kind of clear but whether it will always be this clear, i doubt it.  things will likely change along the way.  but at least i can start.  it does feel as if i'm making a lot of sacrifices for this.  my financial future, my freedom, my independence.  but, i need something to believe in.  i need a goal.  and so, for that, i will focus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i met up with sher yesterday.  through our discussions, i realized something.  she's a lot stronger than she lets on.  what she's dealt with at home for the past month is more than i think i can bare.  i always try to be mentally strong and believe that i can handle whatever life throws at me - but this.. this is different.  i'm not handling it well.  i'm living in denial.  i'm backing away and wanting to run when i should not.  i'm having a hard time facing reality and actually taking action.  i can't think about it sometimes because it just hurts too much.  so, the denial takes over.  i try to ignore what is blatently there and then i come to this place.  a place where i know i don't belong.  and then, i question myself.  am i really a good person?  would someone who is caring and loving act as i have?  shouldn't i be able to buck up and just do what needs to be done?  i don't have any answers right now.  i'm treading water in a deep pool indefinitely, without a life jacket, and fear that i need to drown before i realize i need to be rescued.  the problem with that is - it's too late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4684778316602933756?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4684778316602933756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4684778316602933756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4684778316602933756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4684778316602933756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/boulevard-of-broken-dreams-by-green-day.html' title='&quot;Boulevard of Broken Dreams&quot; by Green Day'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-1874693833330301936</id><published>2008-06-09T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T15:35:30.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Follow The Cops Back Home" by Placebo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;@panda:  i read your blog.  like i'd said before, i learn things from it.  what you share is enlightening for me.  sometimes it helps me see the importance of events that happen.  otherwise, it just feels like me, doing my thing and you doing yours.  i like to know that it is more than that sometimes.  i like to know that yes, discoveries are important for our growth and for each of us, individually. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1874693833330301936?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1874693833330301936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1874693833330301936' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1874693833330301936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1874693833330301936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/follow-cops-back-home-by-placebo.html' title='&quot;Follow The Cops Back Home&quot; by Placebo'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8860756692055854488</id><published>2008-06-09T08:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T09:03:08.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Hush Hush" by The Spill Canvas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i've never believed there was one soul mate in this world for me.  and if i ever did want to believe it, i knew i would never end up with that person.  it's not realistic.  what i do believe is there are people in this world that i am compatible with; a select few more than the numerous others.  and compatibility is only what helps give a relationship the ability and desire to progress.  whether it will, is entirely another issue.  that being said, i understand now what it feels like to have a base compatibility to grow on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i know there are issues still, things are not perfect.  but, they're worth working through because the rewards that are possible in this kind of partnership could bring me things i never dreamt were realistic.  i've opened up.  i've shared things i never felt comfortable doing before.  i've acted in ways i've always wanted to; or maybe never knew i wanted to because it was never okay.  and, for this, i am grateful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i do know, still, that i have a ways to go.  i still hesitate.  in my exploration and feelings of safe-ness, i still worry about pushing too far.  sharing too much.  the imaginary line is there somewhere, in the dark, and i fear stumbling across it at high speeds.  the safe cushy landing on the otherside of the line?  i think it's there.  i hope it is.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8860756692055854488?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8860756692055854488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8860756692055854488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8860756692055854488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8860756692055854488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/hush-hush-by-spill-canvas.html' title='&quot;Hush Hush&quot; by The Spill Canvas'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-9056612829647503997</id><published>2008-06-06T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T09:42:43.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Otherside" by Red Hot Chili Peppers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;being around someone you just don't have much in common with anymore is hard.  it's the lack of things to talk about that are interesting that makes things weird, along with the general dumping that seems to happen.  it just doesn't feel very positive.  it's just change.  it's just feeling stuck and wanting to get un-stuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-9056612829647503997?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/9056612829647503997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=9056612829647503997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/9056612829647503997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/9056612829647503997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/otherside-by-red-hot-chili-peppers.html' title='&quot;Otherside&quot; by Red Hot Chili Peppers'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4046280004441750734</id><published>2008-06-05T14:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T15:33:15.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Night" by Disturbed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i have worked extremely hard this week. it's drained me mentally and physically. then, when the weekend comes around, i want to rest but then i don't want to waste the weekend. trying to find that balance is difficult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;yesterday, i had a new experience. i can appreciate new things regardless if it ends up being something great or not. this, however, did turn out to be great. the details are not important, suffice to say that experiences such as this remind me how much i enjoy discovering good things and sharing it with someone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i'm really strugging with this whole nursing/pa thing.  the problem is, i'm not sure if it's the right path.  i hope it is, but how would i really know at this point?  i can't.  but, then i think, how will i ever find anything if i don't just try?  it's hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4046280004441750734?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4046280004441750734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4046280004441750734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4046280004441750734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4046280004441750734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/night-by-disturbed.html' title='&quot;The Night&quot; by Disturbed'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5222787515048932015</id><published>2008-06-03T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T17:54:12.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Kissed A Girl" by Katy Perry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;for a long time, i don't think i ever acknowledged it, but perhaps it was always there.  or maybe it's just a curiosity.  i don't know.  lately, it's become stronger.  what?  the bi tendencies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5222787515048932015?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5222787515048932015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5222787515048932015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5222787515048932015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5222787515048932015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-kissed-girl-by-katy-perry.html' title='&quot;I Kissed A Girl&quot; by Katy Perry'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3057301414817470734</id><published>2008-05-30T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T11:17:07.752-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Bicycle Tricycle" by Rosie Thomas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i feel like so much  has happened in the past 24 hours but i'm not sure there is any benefit to blogging it.  i've worked through most of it - at least the parts that do not involve work.  i could have done it on my own, but if i had done so - it would just keep perpetuating itself into something larger.  the hardest part for me is showing vulnerability to someone else.  it makes me feel weak.  i'm trying to get over this because it's life.. life can be hard and sometimes you &lt;strong&gt;need&lt;/strong&gt; to rely on someone else for support.  i am proud because i have worked hard to change my thought process - and i understand that my issues lie with me.  it's not what someone else did or didn't do; it's how i react to it.  and, that is a big step.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3057301414817470734?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3057301414817470734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3057301414817470734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3057301414817470734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3057301414817470734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/bicycle-tricycle-by-rosie-thomas.html' title='&quot;Bicycle Tricycle&quot; by Rosie Thomas'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3565989510756239966</id><published>2008-05-29T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T16:41:01.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Schism" by Tool</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;perceptions can be incredibly deceiving, even when they're directed at the self. for example, i took a picture of myself over the past weekend and when i see what i look like, it's so far from how i perceive myself to look. i think i have a slight neuroticism about this. i wouldn't call it bdd, i'm not that bad - but it bothers me. i don't feel slender. i feel average to pudgy in places. i don't strive to be perfect but i do strive to be comfortable with myself, and being that is more difficult than i thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3565989510756239966?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3565989510756239966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3565989510756239966' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3565989510756239966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3565989510756239966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/schism-by-tool.html' title='&quot;Schism&quot; by Tool'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5762279216616680066</id><published>2008-05-28T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T19:35:24.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Zephyr Song" by Red Hot Chili Peppers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;it's late and i'm still at work.  it's quiet though, and i can get a lot done.  still, it's &lt;strong&gt;late&lt;/strong&gt; and i'm at &lt;strong&gt;work&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;so, i'm feeling good.  i finally made the decision to take a freakin' vacation.  it's about time.  this is &lt;strong&gt;years&lt;/strong&gt; overdue.  i've never taken a proper vacation since i was young and it was a family vacation.  i've gone years of working and just taking a day off here and there.  this is an opportune time, as school will keep me busy and financially unstable for the forseeable future after this summer.  i wasn't sure what kind of vacation i wanted.  i always want to be active but i also know i need to be able to relax if i want to.  so, i picked something that seems to be a balance of both.  plus, financially, there is a benefit to the way i've planned this.  it's definitely a &lt;strong&gt;huge&lt;/strong&gt; splurge, but i can rationalize it in so many ways.  so yeah, i have some planning to do but it is very exciting.  go me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5762279216616680066?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5762279216616680066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5762279216616680066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5762279216616680066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5762279216616680066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/zephyr-song-by-red-hot-chili-peppers.html' title='&quot;The Zephyr Song&quot; by Red Hot Chili Peppers'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7474011499288597524</id><published>2008-05-28T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T13:28:52.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Lay It On Me" by The Spill Canvas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i'm so fleeting.  i get ideas, and thoughts, and even before i can act - i might change my mind.  sometimes, i think this is why spontaneity is important for me.  and sometimes, it works against me.  in another side of my brain, i am internally struggling with being okay with planning ahead.  i guess sometimes it feels binding.  but, there is value in being comfortable enough to make a commitment to something.  i want to be there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7474011499288597524?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7474011499288597524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7474011499288597524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7474011499288597524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7474011499288597524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/lay-it-on-me-by-spill-canvas.html' title='&quot;Lay It On Me&quot; by The Spill Canvas'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7277511207434921871</id><published>2008-05-28T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T13:17:05.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Saved" by The Spill Canvas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i can't pinpoint it, but i'm feeling uncomfortable.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7277511207434921871?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7277511207434921871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7277511207434921871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7277511207434921871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7277511207434921871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/saved-by-spill-canvas.html' title='&quot;Saved&quot; by The Spill Canvas'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-2159535135303248729</id><published>2008-05-27T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T18:54:10.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'll Run" by The Cab</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;for the past few weeks, i've been dealing with this mild fear of messing up.  i know what it is too.  i'm involved in something that is very important to me, and i'm afraid i'm going to screw it up.  whether this fear is rational or not, i don't know.  well okay, maybe i do know - i know that all i can do is handle myself in the best way i know how and to be respectful and honest at all times.  where this will lead me, i don't know, but i'm starting from scratch.  i'm recognizing this as a fear so that i can face it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-2159535135303248729?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/2159535135303248729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=2159535135303248729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2159535135303248729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2159535135303248729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/ill-run-by-cab.html' title='&quot;I&apos;ll Run&quot; by The Cab'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-150679022159343506</id><published>2008-05-27T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T18:49:37.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Post Blue" by Placebo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;DAMN IT!!! i just wrote out this long-ass post about what's up this week, and how the weekend was, and everything and it didn't save! psh, well, i guess the best i can do then, is link to &lt;a href="http://ryanwelsh.net/blog/2008/05/memorial-day-weekend/#more-11"&gt;&lt;b&gt;this&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-150679022159343506?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/150679022159343506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=150679022159343506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/150679022159343506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/150679022159343506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/post-blue-by-placebo.html' title='&quot;Post Blue&quot; by Placebo'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4144218851873418172</id><published>2008-05-23T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T10:17:17.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Love Like Winter" by AFI</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;new layout!  i like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4144218851873418172?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4144218851873418172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4144218851873418172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4144218851873418172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4144218851873418172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/love-like-winter-by-afi.html' title='&quot;Love Like Winter&quot; by AFI'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7417421632881948475</id><published>2008-05-22T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T16:58:41.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Harder Better Faster Stronger" by Daft Punk</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i'm obsessed with these little vanilla creme cookies at work.  i was staring at the vending machine and i resisted and bought the pretzles.  go me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sometimes, little things make all the difference.  here's todays.  for the not-so-recent past, i was a wife, and i got used to being referred to as such.  before that, i was a fiance for a good period of time.  it's been a long time since i've been a girlfriend.  there's something so playful and lightheared that passes through me and jolts my heart a bit when i read that word - and only because of the source from which it comes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;so, otherwise, i am well.  i had a bad day yesterday, and i freaked out a bit.  i'm still working through some things.  i think i have a better support system than i realized.  sometimes, i think i'm hesitant to use it.  one thing i'm working on is the balance (and defining the limits) of being self sufficient and independent, and still enjoying and wanting to turn to my significant other.  i mean, if i was completely independent, i would not need a relationship - i want the relationship to compliment me and i'm trying to figure out what that is.  i am super self conscious about people having space in a relationship, and not becoming needy (me or others).  on the other hand, if i never let anyone completely in or let them help me when i need it, i think i'm depriving myself of the good parts of the relationship.  so, this is a work in progress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;today was a good day.  the boyfriend and i are getting out of town this weekend and going to winthrop.  it should be relaxing, and hopefully we'll get to do some hiking.  otherwise, we interviewed a dude today who is going to be a *perfect* fit in our department.  i am excited!  i hope it works out for him; he seems like a keeper.  i have to work late today to make up for going to see indiana jones this afternoon.  it's ok though; i wanted to jailbreak my phone tonight and go shopping.  but, i'm not sure there will be time for all that, and laundry/packing, and the 2-hour season finale of grey's anatomy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7417421632881948475?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7417421632881948475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7417421632881948475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7417421632881948475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7417421632881948475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/harder-better-faster-stronger-by-daft.html' title='&quot;Harder Better Faster Stronger&quot; by Daft Punk'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8348332569222011174</id><published>2008-05-21T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T11:57:15.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Last Kiss" covered by Pearl Jam</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i &lt;strong&gt;had&lt;/strong&gt; been really okay using this as an outlet.  it seemed a good way for me to work thorugh things on my own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;however, i am kind of sick and fucking tired of doing it.  i'm tired of losing my support system and not getting anything in it's place.  i'm tired of not wanting to burden anyone else with my 'issues' and keeping them to myself.  i'm tired of feeling like there's no one to 'go home' to.  this is me, slightly freaking out about it.  and really, totally god damned needing change and not knowing how to create that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the problem becomes, creating what i need does not come slowly or easily.  and so, that leaves me here.  in this place.  i guess i get over it somehow.  maybe i stop writing here, i don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8348332569222011174?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8348332569222011174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8348332569222011174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8348332569222011174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8348332569222011174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/last-kiss-covered-by-pearl-jam.html' title='&quot;Last Kiss&quot; covered by Pearl Jam'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5960103572190096473</id><published>2008-05-21T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T07:52:05.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Who I Am Hates Who I've Been" by Relient K</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;today, i miss being married.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5960103572190096473?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5960103572190096473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5960103572190096473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5960103572190096473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5960103572190096473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/who-i-am-hates-who-ive-been-by-relient.html' title='&quot;Who I Am Hates Who I&apos;ve Been&quot; by Relient K'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4296287843612701244</id><published>2008-05-20T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T22:28:53.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i'm feeling very blah today.  i ran twice, which i needed because otherwise, nothing exciting happened and sometimes that just gets me down.  not that i'm a stimulus whore all the time but the mundane does wear on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;so, something bothersome happened at work.  it's not work related though.  lisa, my best friend that's a girl (and whom i trust completely), was telling me this story (gossip) about this dude that works with us.  i don't know him well, but he's always been extremely nice to me.  i didn't know his name so inquired with her.  apparently, he's just been left by his wife.  she just up and left.  lisa explained how they were having problems and had thought about counceling.  but, she decided she did not want to and left him.  he's been heartbroken and missed 4 days of work.  so, lisa goes on and on about how he's such a nice guy, and how could she do that.. blah blah.  and, i'm on the fence.  yes, he seems pretty great but at the same time - i'm sure she had her reasons.  i guess it just made me feel kind of bad.  it made me feel like people think i'm the bad one.  which, maybe it's true, but they never understand the whole story.  i know people make judgements based on what they know and usually, it is on inaccurate or incomplete data.  but hell, that's life.  so anyway, it feels like a week of hearing about how nice guys finish last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4296287843612701244?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4296287843612701244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4296287843612701244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4296287843612701244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4296287843612701244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-feeling-very-blah-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-210476468559229699</id><published>2008-05-19T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T08:47:33.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;today is victoria day in canada.  i guess it seems kind of ironic that it's also the day i would have had my 1 year wedding anniversary, and one year ago today, i was standing in victoria, canada - having what was (at the time) an immensely magical day.  so, reflection begins, and i think about what has transpired in the last year.  usually, time seems to go by so fast but in this case, the last year seems like an eternity.  so much has changed.  yet, in some areas, i am no farther along than i was.  i hope to use this day to feel grateful for what i had, what i have, and for some kind of jumping off point to make progress in areas i still struggle with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-210476468559229699?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/210476468559229699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=210476468559229699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/210476468559229699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/210476468559229699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/today-is-victoria-day-in-canada.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-1801497865931029615</id><published>2008-05-15T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T19:09:20.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;it has been a difficult week, sort of.  i guess i still am astonished at how fast the weeks go by.  it's almost summer now, and the time seems to have just flown.  i'm not sure i'm in a better place than i was a week ago.  sometimes i feel great and sometimes i feel horrible.  i guess, if i could have a goal, it would be to be more consistent.  i always try to be, but sometimes i fluctuate and i really think i would be less intrusive and emotional with those around me if i were more consistent in my moods.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i am tired of censoring my blog posts.  i've got all these entries in draft because, for some reason or another, i'm afraid to post them.  maybe it's fear of what others will think i think, or fear of what they'll think of me.  either way, i intend to be more upfront with what i want to say, because, for better or worse, this should be the one place where i can be completely open.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1801497865931029615?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1801497865931029615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1801497865931029615' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1801497865931029615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1801497865931029615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/it-has-been-difficult-week-sort-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-1849206131831384714</id><published>2008-05-13T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T07:51:20.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;what do i do when i struggle?  i want to run.  i have overwhelming urges that i fight.  but, they always seem to pass.  never indefinitely though, just until i feel the twinge again.  perhaps something about my personality will always allow this dichotomy to exist.  there is nothing horrifying about it, as long as i can manage it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1849206131831384714?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1849206131831384714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1849206131831384714' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1849206131831384714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1849206131831384714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-do-i-do-when-i-struggle-i-want-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4975049150797735409</id><published>2008-05-12T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T22:24:30.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>improvements</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;one of the major things i need to work on is asking for what i need/want.  asking for help, for support, for guidance, for whatever.  i suck at this, big time.  i guess i value my independence a lot, and asking always feels like giving in.  it makes me feel needy.  who likes to feel needy?  but, aside from that, the bigger issue is, how to get over this.  i suppose diving right in might be a good start.  take, for example, today.  i can think of 10 things i could have asked for today that would have made a huge improvement in the course of my day.  they were all little things; minute!  but, did i say anything?  hell no.  why not?  i don't know.  because i was afraid or something.. and i did not want to appear NEEDY.  i know i'll need help getting over this.  but asking for help in order to learn to ask for help sounds retarded.  please forgive the tone, i'm just trying to figure out what to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4975049150797735409?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4975049150797735409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4975049150797735409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4975049150797735409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4975049150797735409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/improvements.html' title='improvements'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4229274662723484385</id><published>2008-05-11T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T22:11:51.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a lazy sunday evening ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;for all the confusion and crisis i've felt lately, today is different.  today, if even it only lasts a short, i'm in a good place.  i've struggled with my head and my heart being out of sync and for the first time, i feel some significant progress.  i feel as if they've taken a step towards each other; towards a common understanding and place.  further than that, i feel as if i'm part of something bigger.  i've become intertwined in something that is more than just me and that really, truly, brings out the best in me.  and, that may sound corny but by 'best' - i mean more than just that.  i mean, i face fears, i deal with struggle, i feel strength, i try to be better.  and while i may seem focused on myself, it is that improvement that makes me able to share a better me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;to step away from such deep thoughts of a personal nature.. today was mothers' day.  and, it is an intensely difficult day for me.  it makes me reflect and wish things were as they were 5 years ago, or further back.  it makes me long for conversation, and laughter, and understanding, as it was.  maybe more grounded in reality than i should be, i put on the bold face and i block out the emotion as best i can.  but i'm tired.  i'm tired of the now, and the loss of the familial bond.  i'm tired of the awkward silences at dinner, and me sitting there: trying to avoid questions and at the same time, trying to keep my story straight.  i don't do well under the veil of secrecy.  yet, i am afraid.  i am afraid of being a disappointment to my family when they should be the ones i gain the most support from.  either way, i'm not comfortable but it is as it is.  i'm not ready to face them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4229274662723484385?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4229274662723484385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4229274662723484385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4229274662723484385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4229274662723484385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/lazy-sunday-evening.html' title='a lazy sunday evening ..'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-1318112181229340363</id><published>2008-05-07T14:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T14:19:00.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i can admit it, a part of me (a big part) is scared to travel.  scared to venture into the unfamiliar.  but, what do i gain by waiting?  i am dealing with a lot of things that i fear now, and sometimes i want to run away but then i realize, nothing is gained from that.  i don't learn, i don't get anywhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1318112181229340363?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1318112181229340363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1318112181229340363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1318112181229340363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1318112181229340363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-can-admit-it-part-of-me-big-part-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3916414930280347585</id><published>2008-05-02T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T08:42:20.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;it's friday.  thank god.  however, this friday has me uneasy.  i hate that i'm so all over the map emotionally.  that is not normal for me, nor is it easy to deal with.  i had that train of thought this morning again - the one where i wonder if i've made the correct decisions.  where i question myself.  some submersing (sp?) in music, and mocha, and exercise might break this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3916414930280347585?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3916414930280347585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3916414930280347585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3916414930280347585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3916414930280347585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-friday.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3022474224151897758</id><published>2008-05-01T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T11:02:47.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i can't exactly pinpoint it, but i feel.. confused.  it's a feeling of being pulled in a lot of directions at once, and yet, i can't turn towards anything and think, 'THAT... will clear things up for me... THAT.. will make it better".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i guess for all it's worth, at least trying to paper (type) what's going on helps.  at the root of much of my alone-ness is STILL the loss of everyone i was close to prior to my divorce.  i knew i'd be starting over relationship-wise, i didn't realize it would also be without much of a support center at all.  *shrugs* well, it is what it is.  all i can do is start over.  again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sometimes i think i type in circles.  i know this happens because nothing is getting resolved.  if i knew how to get there, i'd already be there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3022474224151897758?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3022474224151897758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3022474224151897758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3022474224151897758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3022474224151897758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-cant-exactly-pinpoint-it-but-i-feel.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3010461164924878309</id><published>2008-04-28T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T09:43:03.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i am tired.  mentally and physically, i feel drained.  i doubt it is very visible on the surface, but my i've been thinking in overdrive about what direction to take with my professional life.  i decided to back out of applying for another position here; i wasn't sure i really wanted to do it.  plus, should i take the path i am thinking about, i'll need a low key job for a while that is fairly easy to handle.  my focus will be elsewhere.  so, after a delay from my previous schoolwork due to personal and family issues, i think i want to get back onto that track.  i thought about doing something different (going into culinary?) but i am not sure that industry is something i want to live in long term.  so, i think i'll take some prep classes this summer and fall, and see if i can prepare for a nursing program again.  should i be in a good place financially to do that, i will.  then, the plan would be to work for 2 years and get my pre-reqs done to enter the P.A. program at UW.  That's two more years there.  this will take a while; but without having the time or money to go full fledge into medical school, this is a good path.  i imagine there might be some shifts down the road but for now, i sort of have a goal in mind.  i'm tired of talking myself out of things because i think it's going to be too hard or take too long.  i know i can do this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3010461164924878309?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3010461164924878309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3010461164924878309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3010461164924878309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3010461164924878309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-am-tired.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3186825569928575256</id><published>2008-04-23T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T15:57:41.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;back.  so soon, yes.  so, taking a little help from the.ethical.slut, i am trying to own my feelings.  everything i feel is due to me - no one else MAKES me feel as i do.  this is easier said than done, but i find, the more i remind myself of it, the more i come to really believe it and feel it at my core.  it is somewhat comforting to this way, because it means that there is always the possiblity and the ability - to feel better.  i'm not waiting on anyone, i'm not dependent on anyone to get there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i found this book called, 'how to sleep alone in a king-sized bed'.  it's a memoir about divorce.  the title is so fitting; i've struggled with the king-sized bed thing many nights.  so, i'll read this book.. maybe it'll shed some light on how to get past some of the struggles i am now facing.  i'm not over this, that i know.  eventhough i've lived the same way for the past months, this feels different.  and, it's scary and it feels lonely.  it feels like no one understands, nor really gets the difficulty of moving forward.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3186825569928575256?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3186825569928575256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3186825569928575256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3186825569928575256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3186825569928575256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/back.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4912703730573201130</id><published>2008-04-23T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T15:20:25.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;eh, i've had better days.  i am in no mood to work either.  feeling down leads me to eat sugar so i'm making my way through a bag of chocolate-covered gummy bears.  this week has been off.  i think i've been trying to 'figure things out' so badly i've gotten nowhere.  for the first time in a long time, it seems like nothing is going my way.  i don't mean for this to sound like a pity party but honest, that is what it feels like right now.  i think about different aspects of what's going on with me and others in my life, and it seems like each situation leaves much to be desired.  *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4912703730573201130?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4912703730573201130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4912703730573201130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4912703730573201130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4912703730573201130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/eh-ive-had-better-days.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-1503527535399405710</id><published>2008-04-21T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T09:26:52.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;oh, one thing i can say, is that i'm not proud or okay with how i've been acting and feeling lately.  it doesn't feel completely like me and i guess it feels like i don't have control.  i know i can't force myself back to 'normal' (whatever that is) but maybe if i just plug along, it'll come more easily than i realize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1503527535399405710?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1503527535399405710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1503527535399405710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1503527535399405710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1503527535399405710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/oh-one-thing-i-can-say-is-that-im-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6466633731965293641</id><published>2008-04-21T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T09:25:25.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;you'd think i would have a lot to say after the past week but not really.  i feel uneasy.  i feel unsure.  i've had my morning coffee but it didn't do anything.  i want to get away but have felt irresponsible with my money lately.  and, i had a mini-getaway just a few days back but reality of 'regular' life has already set back in.  damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6466633731965293641?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6466633731965293641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6466633731965293641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6466633731965293641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6466633731965293641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/youd-think-i-would-have-lot-to-say.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4845843835701436340</id><published>2008-04-15T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T17:02:46.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;for always wanting to be so in control of my emotions and keeping them in check, i'm proud that when i need it - i can be okay with not being okay.  granted, it's hard and something i don't do often.  it feels better though.  i guess what really feels better is just knowing i'm not alone in this.  i might be losing a lot but it's not all loss.  there can be strength that comes from going through this, and i hope it can be looked at as a positive step forward.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4845843835701436340?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4845843835701436340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4845843835701436340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4845843835701436340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4845843835701436340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/for-always-wanting-to-be-so-in-control.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-2832851425043009168</id><published>2008-04-14T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T20:24:34.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;so, what have i done this week?  i've thought.  i've thought about things, as everyone does at a crossroads.  on a professional level, i've thought about going back to school; i've thought about moving within my company, i've thought about switching professions.  on a personal level, i've thought about taking up new hobbies; i've thought about leaving seattle; i've thought about how i spend my time; i've thought about my relationships and which are valuable and need to be embraced and which suck energy from me.  i'll admit, i don't often come to any quick conclusions, which, for me, is a good thing.  since, i tend to act spontaneously if given the opportunity.  that being said, with big decisions, i tend to analyze and weigh options carefully.  and, there are some risks i am not willing to take - risks that would involve being careless about money or relationships or my job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i've felt very sheltered lately though.  i've realized how many experiences i've not had, how many things i am not knowledgable about, how many places i have not seen, how many skills i lack.  this sounds negative.  it's not really.. it's more realization that i am at a beginning and have a wide open space to fill.  so much so, that it's hard to know where to start. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;one thing i know i should focus on, is dealing with, and struggling through, things and situations that make me uneasy.  this is difficult.  but, i want to get there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i've found this a good opportunity to re-evaluate my diet and my exercise as well.  i recently saw some pictures of myself, and was shocked, essentially, at how i looked.  i looked nice.  i looked comfortable in my weight.  that is hard for me to see from my own perspective.  additionally, being in recent company who shares a love for food and good sensibility about eating well has helped me tremendously.  so yeah, i don't know where all of this is going.   but i do know that this week is important for me.  it's important that i get through it and that i come to peace with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-2832851425043009168?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/2832851425043009168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=2832851425043009168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2832851425043009168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2832851425043009168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-what-have-i-done-this-week-ive.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-9112513803273531650</id><published>2008-04-07T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T21:59:54.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i've never been good at making or keeping friends.  and, for the most part, i'm okay with it.  it might sound bad, but there's a lot of work involved in building friendships, and if i don't click with someone, i am not going to waste my time.  i'm picky, i guess.  the downside of this, is that, like now, i find myself dealing with life changing situations and strong emotions, myself.  sometimes i want it to be this way.  sometimes, i'd rather just be distracted.  and sometimes, i wish i didn't feel like i was always burdening others - and thus, just keeping to myself.  there's a delicate balance between dumping/over-sharing and asking for support.  i don't have a good gauge on that balance yet.  i always think i'm on the dumping end, even if it's not really true.  at some point, i really want to - i want to trust someone and feel comfortable enough that i can just be open about the fact that i'm going through some things.. and that i might need some help.  asking is hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-9112513803273531650?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/9112513803273531650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=9112513803273531650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/9112513803273531650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/9112513803273531650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/ive-never-been-good-at-making-or.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-1748507737735819422</id><published>2008-04-07T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T15:05:36.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i am feeling overwhelmed and it has nothing to do with work.  sometimes the things i am 'supposed' to be just feel like a lot.  i can already tell that the next few weeks will be a struggle.  music helps.  it helps me get lost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-1748507737735819422?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/1748507737735819422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=1748507737735819422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1748507737735819422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/1748507737735819422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-am-feeling-overwhelmed-and-it-has.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-316582442235781067</id><published>2008-04-07T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T11:46:00.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;blah.  another weekend past and it was good but something lacked.  it wasn't in the company or the events; maybe something kind of abstract at this time.  maybe just feeling restless .. restless for a getaway.  i don't think it matters where or for what; mostly just for the detachment.  *sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i should stop talking, and whining about it and just figure something out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-316582442235781067?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/316582442235781067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=316582442235781067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/316582442235781067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/316582442235781067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/blah.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-9128981079729709306</id><published>2008-04-01T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T21:41:49.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Maybe someday I'll find someone who is somewhat on the same wavelength as I am about fitness, health, and eating.  I'm not sure that exists.  Maybe because I'm sporadic about it; inconsistent.  I work out hard, like to enjoy food, and still can't completely shake the neuroticism of getting older and feeling like what I do isn't enough.  All it is, is the standards I hold for myself.  I know I am not perfect, never will be, and never want to be.  Maybe the striving for goals is healthy, and maybe never reaching them is also so.  I don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I need to start helping out at home.  I'm not sure how and when, but I know it needs to happen.  I've been neglecting it.  I don't think I mean to - I just get busy.  I am busy.  But, that should not be an excuse.  I am good at excuses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I walked Broadway by myself this evening.  Maybe I'm not anywhere as punk as I used to be, but sometimes the whole image I have created for myself just doesn't seem to fit.  I know it was mostly due to necessity of the workplace.  But, I don't feel such pressure in that arena any longer.  Maybe it's time to make some other changes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;What a random post.  My thoughts are all over the place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Court is two weeks from tomorrow.  I know it's affecting me; not a lot but it's there.  Lately, I think back on the situation and how I handled it.  And, I honestly am surprised he is even talking to me.  It sometimes seems that it just simply means he's a better person than I would have been.  I think that often about others over myself.  Sometimes it feels like I'm just more evil.  Or, maybe it's really that I am just not as caring or forgiving as everyone else (under certain circumstances).  If that is a flaw, then so be it.  Or, maybe, all it is, is that, like me, he realized that this was the better path.  It could be as simple as that.  I understand the feelings behind the decisions that cross my path and how they shape my personality.  And while I always know I can strive for better, being somewhat disconnected (at times) can be advantageous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;My last topic is feeling a bit too personal to share here, at least right now.  Suffice to say, the feelings that go along with it are not something I can verbalize or write about.  There are no words sometimes to explain the things that make you tingle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-9128981079729709306?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/9128981079729709306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=9128981079729709306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/9128981079729709306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/9128981079729709306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/04/maybe-someday-ill-find-someone-who-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7071440705573624141</id><published>2008-03-28T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T08:06:22.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I had dinner with Sher yesterday and then we went home to chat with dad for a bit.  Ugh, sometimes the conversations run in circles and it gets annoying.. mostly in the sense that I feel like he shoots down everything we ask about in a very condescending way.  So besides that aspect of it, I'm laden with guilt.  I know I bring that upon myself, it is just hard to let go.  I guess I can admit I am sometimes in denial, sometimes just not willing to deal with it.  And, then I run.  I don't even really want to go into the details -- I just need to step up, cut the shit, and make some changes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7071440705573624141?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7071440705573624141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7071440705573624141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7071440705573624141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7071440705573624141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-had-dinner-with-sher-yesterday-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6991017964670702767</id><published>2008-03-26T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T08:07:15.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;.. and I'm really okay spewing this here, and then letting it go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6991017964670702767?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6991017964670702767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6991017964670702767' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6991017964670702767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6991017964670702767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8681915033052407895</id><published>2008-03-26T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T07:58:47.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I am not digging how today is starting out.  I try hard, and being analytical helps, to really understand my decisions before I make them.  Thus, mostly preventing any regret from creeping into my conscious.  However, despite all I think I could ever do, I have days where I question things.  Where I wonder.  Today is one of those.  I woke up with this overwhelming feeling of 'how the fuck did I get to this place?'.  Did all the changes I've made in the past year really amount to anything?  Am I really happier?  Am I headed in the right direction?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;By tomorrow, I'll be back to living moment to moment.  But, I can't help but reflect sometimes and maybe it's not a bad thing.  Who knows.  Nothing feels very concretely correct right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8681915033052407895?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8681915033052407895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8681915033052407895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8681915033052407895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8681915033052407895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-am-not-digging-how-today-is-starting.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4555239231879398498</id><published>2008-03-25T09:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T09:35:16.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Frustration has set in.  I think I've been focusing on the wrong thing.  I initially felt like I needed to drop a few pounds.  Rather than that, it should be more about toning.  I know this, and even though I know I've made strides, it isn't feeling very satisfying right now.  Sometimes I think my standards for myself are a bit too high; or maybe just not quite right for my frame.  Either way, what a struggle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4555239231879398498?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4555239231879398498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4555239231879398498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4555239231879398498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4555239231879398498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/frustration-has-set-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6718349935646918559</id><published>2008-03-17T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T09:33:38.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;intentions can be easy or difficult to read.  nevertheless, i often wish more of them were innocent.. were just friendship for the sake of friendship and nothing more.  not to say it couldn't happen, but just that it was alright where it was, for the time being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6718349935646918559?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6718349935646918559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6718349935646918559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6718349935646918559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6718349935646918559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/intentions-can-be-easy-or-difficult-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-445688084723248429</id><published>2008-03-13T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T16:07:12.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;this week has gone by fast.  a lot has happened and i'm feeling pretty okay right now.  in fact, certain areas of my life are feeling pretty amazing.  i am never one to get my hopes up but i think it's healthy that i recognize things that make me feel happy and that are positive.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-445688084723248429?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/445688084723248429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=445688084723248429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/445688084723248429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/445688084723248429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-week-has-gone-by-fast.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6380968973374786367</id><published>2008-03-12T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T16:22:23.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;one thing i have noticed is the prevelance of monogomy preference in all forms of media.  i have realized that as my thinking changes, i relate less and less to what society views as 'right'.  so, for today, i have focused on the thoughts i have surrounding love and ownership.  people become concerned and afraid when they think their loved one is interested in someone else.  however, who says that love has a limit?  who says that my loved ones' feelings for me will lessen or change because they might be interested in someone else?  what we share is still there; still between us, and if it has a strong foundation, it will not be affected.  there should always be enough love to go around; there isn't a limit.  so, i'm gripping this understanding in principle and in reality, and really attempting to hardwire it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6380968973374786367?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6380968973374786367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6380968973374786367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6380968973374786367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6380968973374786367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/one-thing-i-have-noticed-is-prevelance.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8618660182322125862</id><published>2008-03-11T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T08:25:02.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;it is going to be a rough day. most of the time, i am okay but, less often than i think i should, i have a bad day. i can't stop thinking, and all it does is hurt. sometimes, i even think that i had such a happy childhood that somehow i deserved this, that i guess, we deserved it. some kind of sick payback for being happy. it was too much to ask for things to just be alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i struggle greatly with my own thoughts. i feel like an evil being sometimes. i don't think anyone understands (unless you have been through it), the difficulty in, essentially, grieving for someone for years, and it feels like a neverending downward spiral that has no end. and, how horrible do i feel about myself in those moments where i wish it was over. when i think i could stop the denial, the regret, the feelings of neglict.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i always want to know that i can handle my own emotions, and usually it's okay. but, with the other relationships that have been torn apart lately, i feel like my support structure has crumbled and there is little left. at least no one that i think i could burden with my familial, relationship, and professional struggles all at once.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i should go home. i feel physically ill. i can't concentrate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8618660182322125862?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8618660182322125862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8618660182322125862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8618660182322125862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8618660182322125862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/it-is-going-to-be-rough-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-2310867003361436137</id><published>2008-03-10T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T23:17:52.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;conversation is nice, especially when it is topical and intellectual at the same time.  however, while interesting and new, it makes me long for familiarity.  for what i know and who i know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-2310867003361436137?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/2310867003361436137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=2310867003361436137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2310867003361436137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2310867003361436137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/conversation-is-nice-especially-when-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4693557146812790355</id><published>2008-03-10T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T07:55:55.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;this weekend was very fulfilling in an emotional sense.  i came to see things from different point of view, and things i knew - i just didn't know how to verbalize.  the biggest thing being as follows.  when you have someone important in your life, everything they give you (time, laughs, love, companionship, support, etc) is their choice to share with you.  none of it are things you deserve, or control, or expect.  constantly remembering this makes me extremely grateful and gives me a sense of accomplishment, for what i do have and for what i have been given.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4693557146812790355?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4693557146812790355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4693557146812790355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4693557146812790355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4693557146812790355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-weekend-was-very-fulfilling-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5171955241989815852</id><published>2008-03-03T20:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T20:36:29.708-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i sure have been slacking on the blogging.  i've been busy.  i've been concentrating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;though now i'm not even sure what to say.  i'm very much feeling the transitional aspect of my world right now.  i'm questing a lot of the beliefs i've had, and also the ones i think i feel.  there are no clear cut answers, no direct paths to follow.  if only i could be simple, if even for just a day, maybe the clarity of only thinking and worrying about what is really essential in life, would set me free.  maybe it still can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i bet my family thinks i have been neglectful.  it somewhat feels like so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5171955241989815852?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5171955241989815852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5171955241989815852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5171955241989815852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5171955241989815852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-sure-have-been-slacking-on-blogging.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4147117706086458733</id><published>2008-02-26T20:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T20:53:43.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;blah.  i'm doing this thing where i'm constantly staying up too late, and thus, every day i start out tired.  i need to force myself to bed but it doesn't happen easily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i've decided to embrace something i hope will become a hobby of mine.  we will see.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;so, back on the issue of my sister and our current similarities.  well, first i should say i was happy that she asked me for advise.  i was less thrilled in the fact that, i didn't quite know how to answer.  i analyze well, but sometimes, there is no good answer.  there is no clear cut right and wrong thing to do.  i've lived that indecisiveness and the questioning, and until you somehow obtain some clarity, it is going to feel cloudy.  sometimes taking action is the best thing to do.  sometimes riding it out and doing nothing is the best thing to do.  and, in the end, hopefully you learned something so that the future can be clearer.  in other words, hell if i know much at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4147117706086458733?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4147117706086458733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4147117706086458733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4147117706086458733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4147117706086458733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/blah.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8070610355956558040</id><published>2008-02-23T00:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T00:23:41.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i kinda wish comments were not anonymous.  but, even after conversing for short amounts of time, i believe i can already tell who they are authored by based on the choice of wording.  i feel tired but okay.  i should be asleep but had to finish some chores around the condo.  i fully hope that tomorrow is a pleasant day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8070610355956558040?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8070610355956558040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8070610355956558040' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8070610355956558040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8070610355956558040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-kinda-wish-comments-were-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5602808203566004657</id><published>2008-02-21T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T22:19:08.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>inadequate</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i have erased this opening paragraph four times now.  each time, it just did not feel right.  not that this seems better; i just don't know what to say.  it actually feels more like a lack of knowing how to say what i want -- since i know there is plenty in my mind.  plenty, so much as, creating a situation where the options are numerous and the feelings associated with each intertwine and overlap.  the family situation, the me situation, the friendships/relationships situations... they all pull at my heartstrings almost too closely.  some level of detachment might do me some good.  or, maybe the issue is that i internalize so much but yet, it goes nowhere.  i take no action, i impact nothing.  i hope that is all in my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5602808203566004657?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5602808203566004657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5602808203566004657' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5602808203566004657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5602808203566004657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/inadequate.html' title='inadequate'/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-365649605784783538</id><published>2008-02-21T15:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T15:26:47.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i think i'm in a post-vacation low.  it just feels kind of blah.. work isn't exciting, nor is much else.  i guess i better get used to being back in the real world.  my sister may be coming back for the weekend so that could be fun, we will see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-365649605784783538?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/365649605784783538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=365649605784783538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/365649605784783538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/365649605784783538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-think-im-in-post-vacation-low.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8096841774580180025</id><published>2008-02-20T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T20:43:24.867-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;ahh, i am tired.   it does feel good to be home, but the escape from reality for a few days is something i crave every now and then.  we did a lot of walking, had some wonderful food, saw an amazing show, and enjoyed the experience.  at least i did.  the details aren't really important to note here, as those involved share the memories with me, and that is enough.  i hope i can continue to be spontaneous in the future.  but for now, i need sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8096841774580180025?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8096841774580180025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8096841774580180025' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8096841774580180025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8096841774580180025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/ahh-i-am-tired.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7159386173149812700</id><published>2008-02-16T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T22:53:08.029-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i know this to be true for both me and my ex-husband.  now that we are no longer together, we both have opened up our social networks to people we otherwise either lost touch with, or never did anything with previously.  i'm not sure why it took this to happen for people to suddenly want to talk or hang out.  that sucks.  oh well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7159386173149812700?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7159386173149812700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7159386173149812700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7159386173149812700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7159386173149812700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-know-this-to-be-true-for-both-me-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3441726400152407753</id><published>2008-02-16T16:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T16:11:43.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the last few days have been a complete whirlwind.  travel plans came together, and i've been so busy otherwise i haven't had a chance to breathe.  however, it has been refreshing, and spontaneous, and enjoyable.  i need to purchase a few things for the trip, but otherwise, i'm good.  i'm looking forward most to the experience and the company.  i've always wanted to travel more and be more spontaneous.  this covers both, and that makes me happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3441726400152407753?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3441726400152407753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3441726400152407753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3441726400152407753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3441726400152407753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/last-few-days-have-been-complete.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4528165165096759199</id><published>2008-02-12T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T16:55:43.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i met someone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;no, it's not like that.  someone that shares things in common with me and that's all right now.  someone that has lived where i'm headed and who has connections in the community to help open up my learning opportunities.  someone who understands that divorce is real life and short marriages are more common than one would think.  i move slowly with new friendships because, like anything else, there is no reason to rush.  so between that, and picking up a new book, i've got some good leads.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;otherwise, i am well.  i've decided to try not hating valentine's day this year.  but in thes same breath, i won't be dramatic.  no one needs to see that.  the weekend is coming together nicely and i'll be able to get out of town for a bit.  far, far away from work and responsibilities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4528165165096759199?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4528165165096759199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4528165165096759199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4528165165096759199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4528165165096759199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-met-someone.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-4713290810630711153</id><published>2008-02-11T18:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T18:50:20.312-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;if only i weren't so indecisive, today would have been so much simplier.  in the end, i made the decision based on knowing i needed to be more patient, and not wanting to give up a lot of the things that make my life enjoyable now, just in order to move.  i know i would not have been happy in a new place, if i did not have money to go be adventurous or go try a new restaurant or go take a short trip on a whim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;otherwise, the weekend was very busy and tiring; being back at work felt like relaxing in comparison.  however, it was time well spent.  i'm taking the initiative to relax my work days, so i have energy to do things out of work.  i'm done with over-exerting myself at real, because, really, what is it for?  what is the benefit to me?  right now, i do not see one.  i'm comfortable with where i am at, and i can still do a good job with a little less effort (and time) given.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;so yeah.  boring post, i know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-4713290810630711153?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/4713290810630711153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=4713290810630711153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4713290810630711153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/4713290810630711153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/if-only-i-werent-so-indecisive-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-2057005036689617784</id><published>2008-02-08T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T09:59:42.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i felt like crap this morning.  it was my own fault.  i vowed to get to bed at a decent hour but it didn't happen.  it didn't happen because i got to catch up with an old friend.  even though we don't speak often anymore, i still think he knows me better than almost anyone else.  and, so far, he's the only person i feel in can confide in with absolutely no judgement.  so i spilled it.  and, to my surprise, he and i are going through some similar things.  who would have thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-2057005036689617784?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/2057005036689617784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=2057005036689617784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2057005036689617784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/2057005036689617784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-felt-like-crap-this-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5954900319754388434</id><published>2008-02-07T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T21:06:49.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;my king size bed feels lonely, most of the time.  like today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;right now, as i fall into somewhat new daily and weekly routines, i realize that the only thing consistent about it is the presence of spontaniety (sp?).  i am adjusting to how i want to spend my time and balancing my individuality with my desire to be with others.  i think i've hit a good balance, at least for the time being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i'm struggling at work, again.  the biggest difficulty arises in the fact that, i really just don't like some people.  i don't like my boss.  maybe it's petty and juvenile but i don't care for his personality, his mannerisms, the way he talks, and the way he looks.  add that to his lack of professionalism and you've got a recipe that really makes my blood boil.  it makes me feel bad that sometimes, i really can be obnoxious and hostile towards him, because i just can't hold it in.  i know i should be above that, but it can be hard.  i'm stubbon and really think i deserve to work for better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;things on a personal level are much less negative.  in fact, i'd call them good.  i've been doing a lot of thinking, and although things are not perfect or perfectly clear, they are evolving.  i need motion, preferrably in the positive direction .. but i can learn from either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5954900319754388434?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5954900319754388434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5954900319754388434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5954900319754388434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5954900319754388434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-king-size-bed-feels-lonely-most-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3053058433818573149</id><published>2008-02-05T21:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T21:21:57.912-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i heard from my sister today.  i doubt she reads this but if she does, i hope she doesn't mind me referencing our conversation.  she's been trying to figure out what to do and i realized something, for the first time in maybe 8+ years, her and i are in similar boats.  we've always had such conflicting lifestyles and goals but the similarities right now are very apparent..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;so, she plans to work hard, save money for a year or so, help take care of mom, and then just take off.  take off somewhere in the world to travel, to find something.  she says she'll just work her way around and if she comes across a great job, or volunteering, or person, she'll just stay.  she wants to be grounded, she wants to settle down.  funny the dichotomy (sp?) in taking off to settle down.  it is really about the journey though, more so sometimes than the end result.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;there is a part of me that wishes i could do the same.  i might not be cut out for exactly that path, but there are so many times i wonder if seattle really has enough for me.  what if i'll never find it here?  i guess the scary part is taking the jump.  i know i have many things to work out right now, so i'm not going anywhere right away -- but who knows.  there is a lot of opportunity out there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;but first, i want to go skydiving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3053058433818573149?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3053058433818573149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3053058433818573149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3053058433818573149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3053058433818573149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-heard-from-my-sister-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-3783531444570179301</id><published>2008-02-03T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T16:25:54.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;um, so yeah.  i feel retarded; well, semi-retarded and mostly just pretty embarrassed.  i don't know why i let the drinking get out of hand; i really tried hard not to.  i guess i will have to try harder next time.  but aside that, the party ended up being a lot of fun.  i enjoyed my date immensly.  i didn't have to spend time around people i didn't want to, and there wasn't much of feeling awkward either.  good times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-3783531444570179301?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/3783531444570179301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=3783531444570179301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3783531444570179301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/3783531444570179301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/02/um-so-yeah.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7838556757724448041</id><published>2008-01-31T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T16:25:27.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i.  am.  good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i have worked way too hard this week and really not had any kind of daily consistency or routine.  between work and doing fun things, it's been a tiring but very enjoyable week.  i've learned some things and am pretty excited about doing some more research on my own; being informed is a good thing.  and, the possibilities seem very positive and endless right now, which i love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7838556757724448041?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7838556757724448041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7838556757724448041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7838556757724448041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7838556757724448041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/i.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6227547360720228442</id><published>2008-01-29T21:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T21:08:25.947-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;is it wrong to, all of a sudden, really not know what direction your life is going in?  what it does mean is that the present is more important than the future, and definitely the past.  so, it doesn't feel wrong it just feels new.  even just 6 months ago, life seemed clear.  it wasn't entirely fulfilling or happy but it was clear.  i can say though, that i would rather be in this place because it also means there is opportunity.  there isn't much keeping me from changing career paths, moving to a new city, or taking up new hobbies.  i need to make a bucket list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6227547360720228442?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6227547360720228442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6227547360720228442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6227547360720228442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6227547360720228442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/is-it-wrong-to-all-of-sudden-really-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7329552234298063415</id><published>2008-01-28T20:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T21:12:53.194-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;today was a very off day.  i don't have many but when i do, they just don't fall in place at all.  the best 1/2 hour of my day was getting my hair trimmed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i swear, i've had many different types of managers, but they were all at least that -- a manager.  this one needs to grow some balls.  he can't stand up to his boss; which results in him shoving work off onto all of us.  he doesn't know how to handle it.  he freaks out about everything, and wants to come and cry to us about it.  shut up.  i don't care or deserve to have to listen to your issues.  you should be handling your own shit and if you can't; then figure it out.  don't use me as a sounding board.  and, btw, learn to treat people with respect.  you are not my teenage son.  don't talk back, don't whine, don't poke fun, and don't be RUDE.  and do some fuckin' work.  life's easier when you're not around, which says something for your workload.  i do 100 times more work than you, yet you get to sit behind your desk and make your friends and a ton more money than you deserve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7329552234298063415?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7329552234298063415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7329552234298063415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7329552234298063415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7329552234298063415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/today-was-very-off-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6780889482599116799</id><published>2008-01-28T11:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T11:18:42.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;technical issues are keeping me from doing work.  ah well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;right now is one of those times i wish i had more patience.  i don't know what my deal is; i think i get this way because it's tied to the fact that i feel accomplished when i get things done.  however, that is really only relevant in certain circumstances.  like work.  it might also be due to me having a pretty good idea of where i am going.  well, the framework is there but the details are blurry.  and, having ideas is different than knowing anything about what kind of life circumstances will emerge from them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6780889482599116799?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6780889482599116799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6780889482599116799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6780889482599116799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6780889482599116799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/technical-issues-are-keeping-me-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7220383209640820326</id><published>2008-01-27T15:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T15:57:24.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i really do waste a lot of time when i don't have anyone around.  for example, i probably spent 2 hours this morning decided what to keep and what to throw out of the pantry.  i kept wondering if i would ever really eat some of the stuff i have, and finally decided no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the weekend has been very up and down.  one thing i am releaved about, is, i thought i would be very emotional over finally living alone and losing the housing partner i have had for 5 years but i was  not.  i am okay; i am actually good.  there is this general feeling of being free, and i adore it.  one thing i have learned from a friend of a friend, is, if you are single and are TRYING to meet someone, it can be an expensive feat, if you want it to be.  i, on the other hand, am pretty okay not TRYING to find anything right now.  it always seems to find me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7220383209640820326?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7220383209640820326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7220383209640820326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7220383209640820326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7220383209640820326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-really-do-waste-lot-of-time-when-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-8254732187196002844</id><published>2008-01-24T19:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T19:20:33.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i have noticed this week that i have a lot more energy.  i can stay up late, i don't feel so tired in the morning, and it's easier not to stumble through the day.  i don't think i realized how much stress was affecting me.  not to say i am not currently stressed out, but i am better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-8254732187196002844?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/8254732187196002844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=8254732187196002844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8254732187196002844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/8254732187196002844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-have-noticed-this-week-that-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6175844653039385973</id><published>2008-01-22T21:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T21:33:35.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the thought of living on my own is very good.  the little things mean the most.. if i have to work late, i can and don't have to call anyone to let them know; i can spend my time doing pointless things that i don't have to explain; i can be spontaneous and go out late at night if i want, and not get the evil eye.  so yes, i am looking forward to it.  i can eat donuts in the middle of the night, even.  and i might.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;otherwise, i am well.  my heart is in a better place now than it has been in some time.  just, in that, it has calmed a bit.  situations around me still feel chaotic but that can be okay.  adjustments are still being made, and i am good with that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6175844653039385973?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6175844653039385973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6175844653039385973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6175844653039385973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6175844653039385973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/thought-of-living-on-my-own-is-very.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6518135807728111785</id><published>2008-01-21T17:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T17:14:09.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;oh hell.  if i tried to analyze everything that happened today, i think i might actually want to kill myself.  right now, i'm kind of in reactive mode.  digesting mode.  it's not a bad thing either.  sometimes, i just need to let things be.  i don't even know what i feel either; it's not good or bad.. it just feels strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i have not been sleeping well either; the night has turned out to be the perfect quiet time to gather my thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6518135807728111785?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6518135807728111785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6518135807728111785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6518135807728111785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6518135807728111785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/oh-hell.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-7200995526541597723</id><published>2008-01-20T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T15:40:48.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i don't think i was ready to fall back into reality.  sometimes i want to run away at the same time i wish time would hurry and clear things up.  i'm in this place now that feels very unfamiliar.  i am finding comfort in the unknown; it helps me not get ahead of myself.  it keeps me on my toes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i believe myself to be fairly emotionally stable and adaptive.  but, even so, i sometimes question my judgement.  it feels okay; i think it's just a double-check to keep myself in line - to make sure i'm not totally fucking up my future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-7200995526541597723?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/7200995526541597723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=7200995526541597723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7200995526541597723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/7200995526541597723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-dont-think-i-was-ready-to-fall-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-5446436368547747819</id><published>2008-01-18T21:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T21:21:50.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i am cold. the condo is cold.  i am putting music on my sansa for the drive tomorrow.  i'm looking forward to the whole experience, but not necessarily the driving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;interestingly, i think the work environment can be a very electric place.  similar to working in a restaurant, the buzz of daily office life, i think, can skew perceptions.  perhaps maybe i interact with those i might not otherwise, and maybe i treat conversations differently than  had they occured in the outside world.  this is vague for a reason; it does not need to be specific.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i have done a ton of thinking in the past few days.  it is the kind of thinking that feels circular; thoughts lead to other thoughts but, in the end, the same conclusions are reached regardless of how you get there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-5446436368547747819?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/5446436368547747819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=5446436368547747819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5446436368547747819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/5446436368547747819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-am-cold.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6327034073657914926</id><published>2008-01-17T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T21:33:00.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;life can be so unexpected. just when you think you know what will happen, someone will surprise you. someone will affect you in a way you really didn't think was possible (again). words begin to bring physical reactions. thoughts begin to bring deeper contemplations. and where am i through this? trying to keep up and cherish the feelings, as they drill to the root of what i believe it is to be human.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6327034073657914926?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6327034073657914926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6327034073657914926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6327034073657914926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6327034073657914926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/life-can-be-so-unexpected.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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-4859375145973200947.post-6483831666517968038</id><published>2008-01-17T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T11:12:28.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the world is kind of spinning.  i'm feeling good about it, for the most part.  i've had to make some decisions, both personal and work-related, and i think i know i did the right thing.  i've relied heavily on my gut reactions lately, and if i can trust anyone, it's me.  and if i happen to be wrong, i am wrong.  i adjust, i compensate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4859375145973200947-6483831666517968038?l=082479.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/feeds/6483831666517968038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4859375145973200947&amp;postID=6483831666517968038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6483831666517968038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4859375145973200947/posts/default/6483831666517968038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://082479.blogspot.com/2008/01/world-is-kind-of-spinning.html' title=''/><author><name>Mar</name><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>
