<?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-11684238</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:13:31.725-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Xavea</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>83</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-115673474072131888</id><published>2006-08-27T21:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T21:12:20.723-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Still alive</title><content type='html'>I am still alive.  Busy as hell but still alive.  Currently have no pace to live when I move to the city in like a week.  Fun stuff.  Internet will be very limited.  Updates probably even more sporadic than currently.  Have fun wondering if today is the day I got hit by that bus....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-115673474072131888?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/115673474072131888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=115673474072131888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/115673474072131888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/115673474072131888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/08/still-alive.html' title='Still alive'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-115385699620069702</id><published>2006-07-25T13:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T19:02:24.846-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hip Hip ...</title><content type='html'>HOORAY!  I woke up this morning to find several pices of mail waiting for me.  So, after a sweet night out with Karleen, I got my transcripts from Alberta learning, my diploma marks, and a letter from Grant MacEwan.  Good news.  I have more credits total than I thought I did, I finished English &lt;u&gt;and Applied Math 30&lt;/u&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;with honours.&lt;/strong&gt; Also, I was accepted to take my bachelor of arts at the Grant Mac.  I applied so late that I thought I would have to apply again next year.  This is just blowing my mind.  So I looked up everything I could think of that I needed to know, I printed a bunch of things off for my parents to go through with me, and I just have to go to the bank to get a money order for my tuition deposit.  One of the things I printed was a residence application so that I can submit that, it would simply be stellar if I managed to get a room there as well, because Kathleen and Meghan Lightle are going to be living in res too.  It would kick ass.  I feel so much better already that I got in, that was a big part of my worries, maybe once I get a place to live sorted out and get my fees paid I will be able to relax again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-115385699620069702?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/115385699620069702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=115385699620069702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/115385699620069702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/115385699620069702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/07/hip-hip.html' title='Hip Hip ...'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-115083207114947290</id><published>2006-06-20T13:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T22:20:19.183-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello?</title><content type='html'>It has been far to long since I last posted.  More than a month.  Some people probably think I'm dead by now :P.  It has been mad-crazy lately with grad plans and exams and everything.  My life seems to be changing too rapidly to keep up with everything since my last post.  I mean, it is all fucking insane that I just wish I could hide in bed all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearts to Katie, who has managed to keep me sane.(-ish)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-115083207114947290?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/115083207114947290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=115083207114947290' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/115083207114947290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/115083207114947290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/06/hello.html' title='Hello?'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114788473628819497</id><published>2006-05-17T10:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T18:51:26.890-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder if I am actually happy.  Most of the time I feel happy, but then out of nowhere, for no apparent reason, I will just start crying.  Nothing will be done to make me feel upset at the time, I just cry.  I know that I am a teenage girl, and that it is what teenage girls do, but I don't like it.  My hormones shouldn't be that out of wack because I am on regulating hormones, (ah birth control and your many uses...).  It makes me wonder if that means that right now I am so depressed that I have actually hidden it from myself.  Sometimes, lately, the smallest thing will set me off with thoughts of death and suicide.  I know that it is stupid, but I can't seem to stop these thoughts.  They are different somehow, though than when I used to have suicidal thoughts before.  I can't quite explain what makes them different, I just know that they are.  Also lately, my urges to cut have been very strong.  I want to be able to graduate and say that I didn't cut during my grade 12 year, and I am so close.  I also want to be able to say that I haven't cut since I turned 18.  So far, both of them are true, but I am not sure how long I will be able to say that.  I know this seems like a cry for help, and I think maybe it is, but mostly the only thing I can do is fight this on my own, and I just feel better knowing that I have said/written it down somewhere, and that it is out there in cyber-space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114788473628819497?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114788473628819497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114788473628819497' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114788473628819497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114788473628819497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy.html' title='Happy?'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114745201151603613</id><published>2006-05-12T10:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T10:40:13.096-06:00</updated><title type='text'>wee!</title><content type='html'>I feel kinda bad that I haven't seen Karleen's blog yet, and I feel bad that I haven't email Katie her thing yet.  I've just been so tired lately that I come home, sit up for a short time, and go right to bed after work.  I don't want to go online late at night and stay up until 12 of later.  I have been going to bed mostly at 10 or 11 lately and I am still just wiped the next morning.  Even if I manage to get a fair amount of sleep.  Basically its crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had all these things in my head last night for a post, but i can't think of them now.  Realy they were gone about 15 minutes after I first thought of them.  So obviously not that important, but still.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114745201151603613?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114745201151603613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114745201151603613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114745201151603613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114745201151603613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/05/wee.html' title='wee!'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114728064305568612</id><published>2006-05-10T11:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T11:04:03.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Archives</title><content type='html'>I was going through my archives, and wow.  It is crazy to think that what I wrote then , just like what I write now, is what is/was going through my mind.  I know that this is true for everybody, escpecially when they are teenagers, but I've changed alot since then.  Crazy, crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114728064305568612?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114728064305568612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114728064305568612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114728064305568612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114728064305568612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/05/archives.html' title='Archives'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114727903765628200</id><published>2006-05-10T10:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T10:37:17.676-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Survey</title><content type='html'>I did this survey about a year ago.  This is the link if you feel you want to check out my previous answers, as some of them have changed.  scroll down as it is the month's archive page.  &lt;a href="http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_xavea_archive.html"&gt;http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_xavea_archive.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the questions are maybe a little bit dated as well, but too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to do it, copy and paste, and BOLD the things that are true for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;001. I miss somebody right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;002. I watch more tv than I used to.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;003. I like olives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;004. I love sleeping.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;005. I own a home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;006. I wear glasses or contact lenses.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;007. I love to play video games.&lt;br /&gt;010. I have been in a threesome.&lt;br /&gt;011. I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship.&lt;br /&gt;012. I like my handwriting.&lt;br /&gt;013. I have acne-free skin.&lt;br /&gt;014. I like and respect Al Sharpton.&lt;br /&gt;015. I curse frequently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;016. I have changed a lot mentally over the last year.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;017. I have a hobby .&lt;br /&gt;018. I have been to another country.&lt;br /&gt;019. I carry my knife/razor/whip/whatever weapon you want here everywhere with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;020. I'm reasonably smart .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;021. I've never broken anyone else's bones.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;023. I love rain.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;024. I'm paranoid at times.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;025. I would get plastic surgery if it was 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free.&lt;br /&gt;026. I need money right now.&lt;br /&gt;027. I love sushi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;028. I talk really, really fast sometimes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;029. I have fresh breath in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;030. I have semi-long hair .&lt;br /&gt;031. I have lost money in Las Vegas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.032. I have at least one brother and/or sister&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;033. I was born in a country outside of the U.S.(CANADA!!!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;034.I shave my legs.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;035. I have a twin.&lt;br /&gt;037. I couldn't survive without Caller I.D.&lt;br /&gt;038. I like the way that I look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;040. I know how to do cornrows.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;041. I am usually pessimistic.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;042. I have mood swings.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;043. I think prostitution should be legalized.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;044. I think Britney Spears is pretty .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;045. I have cheated on a significant other.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;046. I have a hidden talent...&lt;br /&gt;047. I'm always hyper no matter how much sugar I have.&lt;br /&gt;048. I have random singing outbursts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;049. I am currently single.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;050. I have kissed someone of the same sex. (hehe)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;051. I enjoy talking on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;052. I practically live in sweatpants&lt;/strong&gt; or PJ pants.&lt;br /&gt;053. I love to shop.&lt;br /&gt;054. I would rather shop than eat.&lt;br /&gt;055. I would classify myself as ghetto.&lt;br /&gt;056. I'm bourgeoisie and have worn a sweater tied around my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;057. I'm obsessed with my diary.&lt;br /&gt;058. I don't hate anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;059. I'm a pretty good dancer.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;060. I don't think Mike Tyson raped Desiree Washington.&lt;br /&gt;061. I'm completely embarrassed to be seen with my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;062. I have a cell phone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;063. I watch MTV on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;065. I have passed out drunk in the past 6 months.(been drunk yes, passed out, no)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;067. I have never been in a real relationship before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;068. I've rejected someone before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;069. I currently have a crush on someone.&lt;br /&gt;070. I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;071. I want to have children in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;072. I have changed a diaper before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;074. I bite my nails.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;075. I am a member of the Tom Green fan club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;076. I'm not allergic to anything deadly .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;077. I have a lot to learn.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;078. I have dated someone at least 10 years older or younger.(wondering why this is a different answer? I found out the age difference was actually 7 years)&lt;br /&gt;079. I plan on seeing Ice Cube's newest "Friday" movie.&lt;br /&gt;080. I am very shy around the opposite sex.&lt;br /&gt;081. I'm online 24/7, even as an away message.&lt;br /&gt;082. I have at least 5 away messages saved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;083. I have been rejected by someone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;084. I have made a move on a friend's significant other in the past.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;085. I own the "South Park" movie.&lt;br /&gt;086. I have avoided work to play on OD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;087. When I was a kid I played "the birds and the bees" with a neighbor or chum&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;088. I enjoy country music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;089. I love my best friends.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;090. I think that Pizza Hut has the best pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;092. I'm obsessive and often a perfectionist&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;093. I have used my sexuality to advance my career .&lt;strong&gt;(but I would)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;094. I love Michael Jackson, scandals and all.&lt;br /&gt;095. I know all the words to Slick Rick's "Children's Story".&lt;br /&gt;096. Halloween is awesome!&lt;br /&gt;097. I watch Spongebob Squarepants and I like it.&lt;br /&gt;098. I have dated a close friend's ex.&lt;strong&gt;(slept with one, if you count it)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;099. I'm happy as of this moment.&lt;br /&gt;100. I have gone scuba diving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;101. I have had a crush on someone you have never met. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;102. I've kissed someone I knew I shouldn't.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;103. I play a musical instrument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;104. I strongly dislike math.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;105. I'm procrastinating on something right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;106. I own and use a library card.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;107. I fall in "lust" more than in "love."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;108. Cheese enchiladas rock my socks.&lt;br /&gt;109. I think Lord of the Rings is one of the best movies/books ever written.&lt;br /&gt;110. I'm obsessed with the tv show "The O.C."&lt;br /&gt;111. I am resentful that I have to grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;112. I am an entirely different person around different people.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;113. I think the world would be a better place if people just smiled more often.&lt;br /&gt;114. I think ramen is one of the best foods in the whole world.&lt;br /&gt;115. I am suffering from a broken heart.&lt;br /&gt;116. zzzzZZZZZzzzzzz&lt;br /&gt;117. No matter where I am or who I'm with, I always seem to be lonely.&lt;br /&gt;118. I am left handed and proud of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;119. I try not to change who I am for someone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;120. My heart resides below my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;121. I have had sex with someone I was not in a relationship with&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;122. I enjoy smoothies.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;123. I have had major surgery.&lt;br /&gt;124. I have adopted a pet from the SPCA.&lt;br /&gt;125. I am listening to Radiohead right now.&lt;br /&gt;126. Some people call me by a nickname.&lt;br /&gt;127. I once stole a music stand.&lt;br /&gt;128. I like pumpkin pie.&lt;br /&gt;129. I love NASCAR!&lt;br /&gt;130. I own over 200 CDs.&lt;br /&gt;131. I work 7 days a week.&lt;br /&gt;132. I have mono.&lt;br /&gt;132. I don't have the ability to make decisions without changing my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;133. People tell me I have a horrible sense of humor.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;134. I'm in my PJs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;135. I'm looking for love in all the wrong places.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;136. I have a tendency to fall for the wrong boys, or have them fall for me, so I can't help but reciprocate.&lt;br /&gt;137. I'll try anything three times.&lt;br /&gt;13 8. Done drugs other than alcohol or cannabis.&lt;strong&gt;(I was drugged once if you want to count that)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;139. I'm having trouble sleeping.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;140. I am a cuddler.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;141. I love John Waters films.&lt;br /&gt;142. I have made a pornographic videotape.&lt;br /&gt;143. Sloth is my favorite deadly sin.(Lust is mine)&lt;br /&gt;145. I know all the words to the "Firefly" theme song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;146. I love Dr. Pepper.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;147. I'm a programmer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;148. I can't explain why I'm unhappy at times.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;149. I own and have read all the Harry Potter books.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;150. I like to smell my own hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;151. I carry a book with me almost everywhere I go.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;153. I have flown to a different country to see a band.&lt;br /&gt;154. Been hospitalized for "mental issue".&lt;br /&gt;155. I have survived totaling a car I was driving.&lt;br /&gt;156. I am addicted to Manga/anime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;157. Somehow I always seem to get myself into trouble.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;158. I have dated someone for longer than 2 years&lt;br /&gt;159. I have been hit by flying Eric Szmanda spittle.&lt;br /&gt;160. I have lived in three different countries.&lt;br /&gt;161. I have tattoos.(not yet)&lt;br /&gt;162. I have lost someone I cared about deeply.&lt;br /&gt;163. I am not human until I have had some form of caffiene.&lt;br /&gt;164. I can't use can openers.&lt;br /&gt;165. I went to the emergency room last night.&lt;br /&gt;164. I know all the words to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114727903765628200?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114727903765628200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114727903765628200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114727903765628200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114727903765628200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/05/survey.html' title='Survey'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114719237993562186</id><published>2006-05-09T10:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T16:45:43.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Letters</title><content type='html'>So, I am going to steal Katie's brilliant idea(credit where credit is due.), and post some anonymous letters to people here, because this is my&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;page and it &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; be all about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To _______,&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry that I have wronged you, and just as sorry that you probably will never know what I did. I do value your friendship greatly and I hope that I can learn to be a better friend than I have been to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To _____,&lt;br /&gt;I am so lucky to have such a wonderful person in my life. You put up with all my ridiculous and contradictory ways, and confide in me as much as I confide in you. I feel we truly have what a friendship is supposed to be all about, I can tell you anything without you judging me, but knowing that if I need you to help me out or give some advice I can count on you for it. I love you, you are a beautiful soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To ___,&lt;br /&gt;I wish that I could take back what happened between us, because it was wasn't the best for either of us. I know that our friendship is stronger than this, though, and that we will be fine in the end if it doesn't happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To ______,&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand what attracts you to me, but I know that you are fighting the physical attraction you have for me to try to make the friendship work. I appreciate it and hope that you will be able to accept that we will never be more than friends. I thought you had, but recently learned that you still have to work at it. I just hope that you are not only my friend because someday you hope to change my mind about who I am attracted to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To _____,&lt;br /&gt;Even though I have no problems with people knowing that I am a lesbian, that is NOT the only aspect of my personality or who I am. I want you to stop making such a big deal out of it, and I wish that if I haven't told someone, you wouldn't tell them for me. And, just because I am generally attracted to girls, doesn't mean I am attracted to every girl I meet, just the same as hetero girls are not attracted to every guy they meet. You need to also understand that he doesn't like you the way you like him. You are putting too much of yourself into something that you aren't getting what you think you are out of it. You are going to cause yourself alot of heartache if you keep doing this to yourself. I am conflicted because, there are many aspects of you that are what make you my friend, but I am not sure how much longer I can take some of the flaws that you seem to be nurishing instead of trying to fix. You make yourself seem so giving and compassionate, but the truth is you are doing it for selfish reasons. You want people to like you, and think that if you are doing these things that they will like you. Give it up. People are not suffering for your gain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To ____,&lt;br /&gt;I can't belive you keep leading me on like this and I keep falling for it. This is exactly what you always did when we were friends. But this is it, you must tell me what is going on and everything I want to know about this shit, I will not sit around anymore waiting for you to tell me in your own sweet time. I have been forgiving enough I think to allow you to have done this to me for more than 2 months already. If you haven't decided that the time is right to tell me yet, I don't think you ever will. And if you keep not coming to school just because you don't damn well feel like it, you will get kicked out, you won't graduate, and I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;will&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; laugh at you. And it will make me feel better than I have felt in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To _______,&lt;br /&gt;I know we have been friends for several years now, and it sort of feels like we don't have much in common with each other anymore except for some classes, a game, and a few friends/bitches. I simply hope we can find a way to hold onto our friendship, not simply for the sake of a long-term friendship, but because I can't imagine not having such an insightful and honest, and generally likable person in my life, I haven't met anyone like you, and I don't think I will. I don't want to lose that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long post, but I think I understand why anonymous letters rock, I feel better just getting this stuff off my chest without actually addressing anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114719237993562186?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114719237993562186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114719237993562186' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114719237993562186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114719237993562186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/05/letters.html' title='Letters'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114714950897094339</id><published>2006-05-08T22:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T18:27:32.800-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Comments</title><content type='html'>Please Sign your real name or something I will know who you are with when you leave me comments.  There is a reason I have word verification on, but I don't know who makes kittens cry, as happy as that sounds....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114714950897094339?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114714950897094339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114714950897094339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114714950897094339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114714950897094339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/05/comments.html' title='Comments'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114654323293883660</id><published>2006-05-01T22:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T21:43:41.390-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can the Governemnt be right???</title><content type='html'>So, maybe with age does come maturity and wisdom(haha, I know).  Somewhere along the line, I realized that I have somehow learned to keep my own counsel.  I used to tell everyone what was going on in my head and every little insignificant thing that I thought.  At some point or another though, I must have realized that they don't always need to know.  AT this point last year I could probably name 3 different people who knew everything there was to know about me.  And although I still confide in these people, and I still love them to pieces(I am sure you know who you are, you all have left comments on here at some time or another :) )  I don't tell them everything anymore.  Because it isn't all about me, (except this blog, so ha).  But I just have to wonder though if I will find a happy medium or if I will take it too far, like has seemingly happened in Veg, where only one person knows even the slightest about me anymore and I don't think she knows even half of what these other people know.  Or maybe the Vegreville part of my life is just getting over maybe a little prematurely, grad isn't for a couple months yet, but maybe I just have to let go from here and just make it through my days until I can leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Btw, the title was a reference to a previous post, about government deciding that I can't think logically until the day I turn 18...)&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114654323293883660?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114654323293883660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114654323293883660' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114654323293883660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114654323293883660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/05/can-governemnt-be-right.html' title='Can the Governemnt be right???'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114551323766185779</id><published>2006-04-20T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T05:49:16.893-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Eighteen</title><content type='html'>I can hear the upstairs clock chiming the hour as I type this.  I am now legally an adult.  And, because I have now reached the age at which it has been decided that I have finally mature enough to make my own logical decisions(couldn't do THAT an hour ago, heaven forbid) I will go to bed.  Because I am tired and shall fail my english test which I have not really studied for.  Usually, this wouldn't bother me, but because the test is that I have to write down a sililoquay(with correct spelling of this word) from Hamlet, from memory, complete with punctuation, I will fail because I only know half of it.  So good night, good night, and I shall bear arms against a sea of troubles again tomorrow...(hehe you see what I did there? That a twist on one of the lines from the sililoquay, hehe... okay, I know I'm lame and that I am an English nerd--who will fail her test tomorrow)  Good Night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  This is about mature as you are getting from me today!! *mweah* (&lt;~~ me sticking out my tongue without using the over-played-out smilie ~~~&gt; :P)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114551323766185779?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114551323766185779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114551323766185779' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114551323766185779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114551323766185779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/04/eighteen.html' title='Eighteen'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114551055374808309</id><published>2006-04-19T23:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T23:22:33.750-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Hour...</title><content type='html'>So, this is my last hour.  ...  Of being a legal minor in Alberta. haha.  Man, I am so lame I'm cool.  Don't worry, I will post a super-mature post when I am 18, Promise...(or do I?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisses from a minor? Shame on you!&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114551055374808309?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114551055374808309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114551055374808309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114551055374808309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114551055374808309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/04/last-hour.html' title='The Last Hour...'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114490465784301133</id><published>2006-04-12T22:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T00:20:29.720-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Day</title><content type='html'>Hmm, I had a crappy day at work, patrons suck when they are bitchy. And before that I had just come from a doctor's appointment and not only was the doctor 1/2 an hour late, he had to schedule me in for minor surgery on monday, and gave me a prescription. Then after work there was a mix up with the pharmacy and they thought i wasnt allergic to a strain of penicillian any more and we thought that the medication was a form of penicillian, and had to go talk to a nurse at the hospital just to make sure, and the clothing store was closed when i got off work and i had no time to buy socks to replace the ones that i have, which have holes in them :P.   And the medicine that I am taking leaves me dehydrated and with an aweful taste in my mouth bleh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, long and rambling. But then I came online and found out people were leaving me comments, and it was a brigth point in an otherwise bad day. I love you all &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114490465784301133?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114490465784301133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114490465784301133' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114490465784301133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114490465784301133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/04/bad-day.html' title='Bad Day'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114421937488293461</id><published>2006-04-05T00:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T16:44:15.966-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate people</title><content type='html'>I hate people.  And I hate that I can't seem to tell anyone exactly what I mean anymore.  Hardly anything that comes out of my mouth is what I really want to say.  Yet I can't seem to stop talking.  Its so confusing and frustrating all at once.  And the only reason I am posting this is because I know hardly anyone reads it, and the people who do are all from TUXIS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114421937488293461?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114421937488293461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114421937488293461' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114421937488293461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114421937488293461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-hate-people.html' title='I hate people'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114352528828611556</id><published>2006-03-27T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T01:01:22.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing</title><content type='html'>TUXIS was as amazing as usual.  Basically TUXIS rocks my socks.  And a few other items of clothing as well.  Saturday night's pantsing war was pretty wicked. I was told I have a very nice ass.  And since it was bare, I am pretty sure that Ben got a good enough look at it to know.  Seducing Meaghan was pretty damn fun too.  That boy of hers needs to be taught a few tricks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114352528828611556?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114352528828611556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114352528828611556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114352528828611556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114352528828611556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/03/amazing.html' title='Amazing'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114323579298723079</id><published>2006-03-24T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T14:29:53.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WOO TUXIS!</title><content type='html'>In about 1.25 hours, Roland and Alistair should be arriving at my house.  In another 2.25 hours, we should all be arriving at Nikki's house to pick her up.  Then we will be off to March Conference.  I am so excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114323579298723079?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114323579298723079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114323579298723079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114323579298723079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114323579298723079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/03/woo-tuxis.html' title='WOO TUXIS!'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114296511114187482</id><published>2006-03-21T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T07:52:12.736-06:00</updated><title type='text'>TUXIS</title><content type='html'>Oh, I can't wait for TUXIS.  Conference this Friday, I hope that everyone can make it.  I am jealous that Kathleen is in Japan but I get to go to Foothills United in Calgary.  I am worried about Nikki though, and hope for both Nikki's sake, my sake and the sake of everyone at TUXIS that Justina doesn't show up.  I would really hate to have to resign my front bench position because I've been asked not to come back for a while and I would die if I couldn't come back at all, because I just hauled off and hit her.  But if I hit her, it wouldn't be just once either.  But I can always hope.  And if they can't kick her out of TUXIS for something that happened outside of TUXIS, then I think that I may be able to contain myself until the end of the event, and hope that I can get into Tofield, because when Nikki's mom dropped her off after Nikki's party, I just happened to see where she lives.  Oh what fun would that be and I wouldn't get kicked out of TUXIS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a better note.  If I can find the right sort of thing that I am looking for,  I will have an angel between my shoulder blades as my first tattoo.  That should happen sometime around my birthday, Which will be my present to myself.  I have others that I want to get aswell.  By the time I am done tattooing and piercing(which won't be for a long time) I am gonna be a walking canvas, and I will have so much metal in me that I probably won't pass a metal detector at an airport.  It will be great fun.  But currently I can't find exactly what I'm looking for.  I can find similar things, but they are either too catholic-y or to goth-y and I want sort of a mix.  I think I may have to go in and see if they can draw something like what I want before they put it into my skin.  I hope so otherwise I will have to get one of my other tattoos first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114296511114187482?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114296511114187482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114296511114187482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114296511114187482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114296511114187482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/03/tuxis.html' title='TUXIS'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114261869480833284</id><published>2006-03-17T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T12:40:02.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meh</title><content type='html'>So, I haven't spoken to Ryan in maybe 3 days.  Fine, I still talk to Karleen, but I am sort of sad that the friendship between Ryan and I ended so abruptly.  If we had gradually drifted apart, it probably would have been better.  But hardly any of my friendships end that way.  So it's Saint Patrick's Day.  I went through my closet and have no green.  So I am wearing a green hair elastic around my wrist.  I suppose, however, the good part of my fight with Ryan is that I am somehow happier.  I feel free and I am wearing colour for the second day in a row. *gasp*  I know, I know.  Yesterday I wore a cute little pink top with red roses on it that I haven't worn in ages with a pair of black pants.  And did makeup.  Today I am wearing a bright red dress-length slip over a pair of black pants and under a shrug-type darker red shirt.  It looks hot, and I am wearing makeup with a lot of bold lines, picked myself up some dark lip liner and a lipstick a few shades lighter, and the even my glasses looked good with the makeup I have on.  I know that I have been wearing more colour since I started going to TUXIS, but these bold colours without a black sweater of something overtop, or even my black shrug instead of my red one, is quite a drastic effect contrasted with my usual attire.  My dad was gone before I was fully dressed this morning, so he didn't see me.  I don't really think he will approve of the outfit ( my mom didn't really, thought it was too tight -- she said it showed my rolls, I told her I didn't have rolls that it accentuated my curves, which is true)  but maybe he will get off my case a bit about wearing so much black.  I also bought a cute white top yesterday, it is thin enough that when I get my tatoo (soon as I have money and can get into Edmonton, near my birthday) that it will show it off nicely, without my having to have massive amounts of bare skin showing.  I will be able to show my tatoo off at school and not technically break the dress code.  I love messing with my teachers.  I rarely ever really break the dress code, but my clothes are close enough that some times they are just so mad to have lost when I tell them that according to any written rules in our handbook or anything announced in the assembly from the beginning of the year I am not breaking dress code.  It is so much fun.  I am such a lame rebel though if you think about it.  I poke at the (supposed)authority of the faculty, but then I don't do things that are technically crossing the line, I just kinda stand right on it and make faces at them.  Makes them mad, but they can't punish me.  It's sorta hard to believe that in the years I've been at this school, I have never gotten suspended.  They have suspended some of my class mates for less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reading the news on &lt;a href="http://www.cbc.ca"&gt;www.cbc.ca&lt;/a&gt; I have no idea what causes me to want to keep up with the news, most of it is depressing garbage anyway.  And on a government sponsored news source.  What kind of conspiracy nut am I? I should be avoiding this place like the plague.  Meh, I don't have time to read the paper and knowing the news when I get home so that I can talk to my dad about it is sorta nice.  We may have vastly different political views, but it is nice to be able to debate a little bit at home.  Hehe, craptions contest from &lt;a href="http://www.pointlesswasteoftime.com"&gt;www.pointlesswasteoftime.com&lt;/a&gt; some of them are pretty funny, and some of them, you just have to wonder if they actually think they are funny...&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, signing off because I really have nothing else to say at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114261869480833284?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114261869480833284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114261869480833284' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114261869480833284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114261869480833284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/03/meh.html' title='Meh'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114244450403902865</id><published>2006-03-15T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T10:42:51.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*Frustrated noise here*</title><content type='html'>This is probably going to make me sound like a crazy drama queen ( which I probably sound like most of the time), but I feel kinda abandoned. Not by TUXIS and not by my family. But at school, the people who are supposed to be my friends are making plans without telling me and then talking about how much fun they had right in front of me. They tell me that I wasn't home or some load of crap when I ask why I wasn't invited. I am pretty much always home, they have my cell number, and I check my phone messages about 5 times a day. There are never any. Or they will make huge plans for a week, but not invite me or make any effort to incude me at all, even when I ask a few questions they just brush me off. Today on the bus Ryan didn't talk to me, he didn't wait for me as we got off the bus, he didn't come to my locker like he always does, and when I joined him to walk around like I always do, he rolled his eyes and me like I was unwanted. I still haven't forgiven him for saying yesterday while we were talking about who Nazi's persectued that in response to my saying they didn't idealize all whites they idealized the Aryian race, and that some fanatics might have persecuted me because of my dark hair and dark eyes, he said "I hope so! And I am perfect", because of his blond hair and blue eyes. I am just getting absolutely sick of being treated like less of a human being than he is because I have different tastes than he does. Karleen has different tastes than both he and I as well, and he fawns over her all the time. They have tons of inside jokes that he won't explain, even though she will usually try to later. And when Ryan and I or Karleen and I procure an inside joke, Ryan either explains it or gets pissed if I don't share &lt;strong&gt;immediately&lt;/strong&gt;. This is getting to be tiring. I don't have the energy needed to try to maintain such obviously one-sided friendships. But there are only a few friends that I have in Vegreville, Brittany whose other friends don't like me, Karleen who I feel I take third place to after Ryan and Chris, and maybe Britt G again whose friends don't like me. I was so content with my small amount of friends that I didn't really bother with making alot of them, because it seems to be such a battle here to make, let alone keep my friends. I suppose I was just too content and didn't realize that it was slowly turning around and I was losing my friends. The same thing sorta happened to me when I had a fight with Sam. I was upset with one friend and she was upset with me, and suddenly I didn't have any friends, they were all on her side. And this time there are no older friends that I can be the tag along to. No Jason or Adam Masse to cling to. No Missy to hang with because Ryan seems to hate me all of a sudden. And I am still pissed at Sarah for having absolutely no tact. If it wasn't for TUXIS and the thought that I am planning on moving to Edmonton during the summer, to find a job and hopefully go to school, and that there seem to be so many options for me there and that I have so many of my TUXIS friends there, I don't know if I would be holding up as well as I am this time. I mean last time it happened before TUXIS, I was so self-destructive, cutting and making attempts to take my life. Wow, that admission really makes me feels stupid. I suppose my friends aren't everything, but they are an important part of my life, and I don't get along all that well with my family most times, so my friends are my chosen family. I guess I shouldn't rely so much on other people, but it's hard to go through high school when it seems that except for fewer and fewer people, the whole town is against me. Safety in numbers and all that suff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My teenage angst is showing, oops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114244450403902865?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114244450403902865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114244450403902865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114244450403902865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114244450403902865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/03/frustrated-noise-here.html' title='*Frustrated noise here*'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114201480174084225</id><published>2006-03-10T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T11:20:01.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blarg</title><content type='html'>My mom took the Speakers to the post office for me this morning.  Which means people should be getting them next week.  Which makes me very happy.  I got it done, and on time.  Whereas, I also just finished sending out the last of the Speakers from LAST conference.  I am so behind sometimes.  But today I am so sick.  I don't know if it is because of nearly no sleep last night, or other things, but I have so many painkillers in my body right now, I don't even want to think about it.  I am hoping that it is just due to may late night and that I wont get really sick.  I am perferming bells tomorrow, and in 2 weeks on the 20th I am performing in the Wendy Brook Music festival, singing 2 pieces, 1 musical theatre, 1 or 2(don't recall) choir pieces, and a few( again don't recall #) bell choir pieces.  How much fun is that gonna be if I get sick?  Blah, gotta start downing some massive quantities of Vitamin C, and probably should throw in some Echinacea and Goldenroot too.  Oh medicinal liquids, how gross you taste. &lt;br /&gt;Hmm, I am at school, during my spare block, and bored out of my mind.  And I still have another 80 or so minutes to go.  Time goes so damn slow lately.  And then the next thing I know, I am behind on something.  It is crazy.  I suppose I could be doing the practice diploma that I have from English, but there is a substitute teacher today and we get a work period.  I could do the Bio homework we got, but I just came out of that class and would really rather not.  I am not really pleased with the webfilter on the computer I am one right now.  I am trying to view some art sites and they keep coming up blocked.  First our school dramatically slashed the arts budget, including band, and choir (but not drama, heaven forbid we should not have drama, where else would they all play "smellyball"?) and now they won't even let us view art sights to broaden our minds.  Damn stupid administration we've got in the EIPS system.  You know, it is sort of funny; I can pull up a full copy of &lt;u&gt;The Anarchist's Cookbook&lt;/u&gt;, but I can't get a copy of the lunar calendar through the firewall because it is "Occult or Alternative Religion".  Blah&lt;br /&gt;So now I am googling TUXIS.  It is interesting.  I found 1 reference to it being a cult, one person's journal who was "forced to go"(stupid blocker, I will read it at home), and am still looking.  I plan to e-mail myself links to the sites, and print out some stuff to possibly table at the next meeting.  It should be fun. &lt;br /&gt;Now I only have about 1/2 hour left.  Until lunch.  I usually enjoy lunch.  Except the walking with an extremely sore foot part.  Because we are sheep in my school and we just walk the halls of the school, which has a basic square-figure-8 type pattern with a separate branch for the Gym, and a some branching hallways.  But we just always go in a big sqaure.  For the whole lunch period. :P. &lt;br /&gt;I think I am done searching for mentions of TUXIS.  I am pulling up alot of duplicates.  I am sorta wondering though, If I should simply create this into an article for the next mail-out Speaker instead of tabling it.  I will bring it up with someone maybe,  I will have it ready for conference and ask Erin or Nicole about it.  It will be great fun to see where TUXIS is mentioned as the parliament, and where it has other connections.  I think I will do an image search as well, maybe add some pictures to my "report".  OMG I just clicked on a picture of Josh and Jess.  It was one of the first things to come up on Image search.  !!!  Two separate christmas newsletter-type things.  Now I know what they were talking about at FBR when they said Google TUXIS and you get Jess &amp; Josh before the Parliament website. &lt;br /&gt;Well, I believe that this post is long enough, and I think I will take a few minutes to look at books (I am in a library after all) before I go to lunch.  Thanks for sticking around if you actually read all this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114201480174084225?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114201480174084225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114201480174084225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114201480174084225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114201480174084225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/03/blarg.html' title='Blarg'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114197289705556025</id><published>2006-03-09T23:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T23:41:37.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TUXIS Late Nights</title><content type='html'>Oh, TUXIS, I devote late nights to you, even when not at an event.  Late nights are kinda fun.  Except that I like to sleep.  Nut this is for TUXIS, therefore worth every lost second of sleep.  Hell, I've got 2 weeks until conference to sleep, who needs it now?  So, I am up right now printing the Speakers getting them ready to mail out tomorrow.  I am sorta on top of things right now, except that I must find my misplaced stamps for the speakers that didn't get out last time.  Other than that, these ones should go out on time.  Meg even got the minutes down to 3 1/2 pages (meaning front,back,front,back) so Even though they are overweight, they hopefully will not be oversized.  What fun.  The Department of the Provincial Secretary for the 87th Session of TUXIS Parliament of Alberta ROCKS! (whew, try being a screaming fangirl for that :P)  Anyway, I think the last bits are done printing, which means I just have a few more envelopes to print, and then to stuff the envelopes and seal them.  So i'm going to go do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114197289705556025?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114197289705556025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114197289705556025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114197289705556025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114197289705556025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/03/tuxis-late-nights_09.html' title='TUXIS Late Nights'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114189024116317969</id><published>2006-03-09T00:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T00:44:01.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Speaker</title><content type='html'>So, I have no idea where time goes.  I haven't been online for close to two weeks.  Crazy.  I don't even know how I went so long without really realizing it until I figured out that I would be getting the Speaker soon, and should probably do something about it.  I think that even though I have been a bit slow getting my minutes to Meg, that we just may get the speaker out on time this conference.  And I might have enough money to buy proper postage, thanks to a really big supper rush and a few good tippers tonight at work.  Which is good, because I don't actually get paid again until the 16th.  Which, then means that I will have money for TUXIS merchandise if there is any hanging around the store.  Oh, hooray TUXIS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on a copletely unrelated topic, I am going to be one of those girls who is gonna bitch about their love lives.  Stop reading now if you don't want to hear my whining.  But, basically, why are there no good, lesbian girls in Veg.  I suppose I would settle for a bisexual.  Hell, right now I'd settle for a guy that isn't barely brave enough to talk to me, let alone arrainge(I can't spell at all today) a booty call with me.  Bah.  I just need to get laid.  Whining over for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone is still reading after that horrid last paragraph, have a good night and really don't mind my 1 AM rantings.  I think I am going to go to bed.  I am dead tired.&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114189024116317969?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114189024116317969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114189024116317969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114189024116317969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114189024116317969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/03/speaker.html' title='Speaker'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114093620479104889</id><published>2006-02-25T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T23:43:24.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Internet</title><content type='html'>Yea, so I was too lazy to bother going online for almost a week, and when I got back, I had 17 e-mails and 5 blogger comments.  I felt so loved.  I also felt very loved by the supportive comments left.  You guys are always amazing.  Hmmm, not much to update on.  Waitressing is hard on the feet, and good shoes are expensive in Veg. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On an unrelated topic,  if anyone has pictures with me in them, and of TUXIS pictures in general, would it be possible to send me a copy?  Most know my e-mail, otherwise leave me a comment and I will send it to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114093620479104889?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114093620479104889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114093620479104889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114093620479104889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114093620479104889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/02/internet.html' title='Internet'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114039509882296128</id><published>2006-02-19T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T03:55:06.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TUXIS</title><content type='html'>So, just got back from February Conference earlier.  And it was pretty sweet.  Except for Maureen making me go to the hospital for an allergic reaction, that is.  But I am so blessed to have friends that care about me enough to make me care about my well-being.  I love seeing all the people who are always at TUXIS events.  I miss a few from last year, but I will still see them from time to time, and hopefully at Summer camp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114039509882296128?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114039509882296128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114039509882296128' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114039509882296128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114039509882296128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/02/tuxis.html' title='TUXIS'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-114007570664451602</id><published>2006-02-16T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T20:38:31.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Left out</title><content type='html'>I realize that most(okay everyone that I know) who actually read this, are from TUXIS.  So I mostly try not to rant too much about my friends that I have in Veg.  But lately, I have been feeling very left out of most of my interactions with them.  It's really bothering me.  And ever since Ryan started playing medievia, he has been between Karleen and me there to.  Not to mention that he brought Heather on and Sam back on.  I have just been feeling lately that I'm only really a tagalong to them.  I don't dare voice my feelings about this, however, because Ryan would just tell me to quit feeling sorry for myself.  And he's probably justified in telling me that.  But, the last time I really bagan to feel left out and unwanted by a "friend" it was warrented, because she was cutting me out on purpose.  Maybe though she was right.  She thought I was too depressing.  She knew me pre-TUXIS, and I am much happier with most things, including being comfortable with who I am since then.  But what if I really am just that unpleasant to be around?  What if I really do creep people out more than they let on?  And I am going to stop here, before I get too caught up with what if's to sleep tonight, which I will be doing soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-114007570664451602?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/114007570664451602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=114007570664451602' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114007570664451602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/114007570664451602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/02/left-out.html' title='Left out'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113961143432044056</id><published>2006-02-10T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T15:43:54.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick</title><content type='html'>Damn I haven't been this sick in a long time.  Or felt so absolutely stupid.  It is one thing to drink, another to get so drunk I fall down the stairs and nearly hit my head on the cement.  I couldn't even stand when I was brushing my teeth, I sat on the floor and pulled myself up on the sink to spit.  I want to apologize to anyone I may have been incredibly stupid to.  I know a few of my friends were pissed at me last night.  I know the previous post is no excuse, it is a reason, but not an excuse.  Even being drunk is no excuse for behaviour, but I'm sorry if I made someone mad at me that I don't remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113961143432044056?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113961143432044056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113961143432044056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113961143432044056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113961143432044056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/02/sick.html' title='Sick'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113952225502177639</id><published>2006-02-09T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T03:50:07.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I couldn't do it</title><content type='html'>I couldn't do it.  Couldn't make a positive match.  In some ways I guess I am relieved.  It can't go to trial now. In other ways I am just so mad at myself.  I mean, the guy who did it is just going to be free to maybe do it to someone else.  I could have stopped that if I could have positively identified him.  The police know who it is.  I narrowed the photo line up to two people.  Amanda told me that he was one of them, but they can't do anything without a positive ID.  She was so understanding.  This may be simply perverse of me, but I wanted her to be mad or annoyed or disappointed in me.  I wanted her to tell me that I should have been able to do it.  Maybe it's because thats mostly what I've known, but maybe because I was so diappointed in myself that I felt she should be aswell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, when I got home and wanted a salad, I made everything up and then went to put the dressing on, and someone had put an empty bottle back in the fridge, and that just made everything worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113952225502177639?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113952225502177639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113952225502177639' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113952225502177639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113952225502177639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-couldnt-do-it.html' title='I couldn&apos;t do it'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113942114485442038</id><published>2006-02-08T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T10:15:36.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At School</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm at school.  School sucks.  First block there was a guest speaker, Stu Saunders.  This post really has no direction.  I think I'm getting sick from TUXIS.  My cough that hasn't gone away from November has gotten worse, and my throat is sore.  Not that I don't love everyone from TUXIS and I would miss them if they didn't come, but if they are so sick that they are going to spend most of their time sleeping anyway, I think that maybe they should stay home for the weekend.  But, I am definately looking forward to Feb. Conference next weekend.  I'm disappointed that I won't make it to Dennie's party this friday though.  Happy Birthday Dennie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113942114485442038?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113942114485442038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113942114485442038' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113942114485442038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113942114485442038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/02/at-school.html' title='At School'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113850717820796325</id><published>2006-01-28T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T11:09:42.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Answers</title><content type='html'>Some answers to some questions I received.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not alone in the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The earth is horever old you damn well say it is, how the hell can you prove it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe science or religion, your call, your consequences whatever they may or may not be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vatican is full of priests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not beleive everything I see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Green is Karleen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depending on how and what the leader was leading would determine whether or not I would follow her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a tree falls in the forest, and you come along and trip over it, then you know it has fallen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone keeps thinking of questions to ask.&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113850717820796325?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113850717820796325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113850717820796325' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113850717820796325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113850717820796325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/01/answers.html' title='Answers'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113831047619191224</id><published>2006-01-26T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T14:37:11.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ask Me Anything</title><content type='html'>YOU CAN ASK ME SIX QUESTIONS::&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;br /&gt;3.&lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;br /&gt;5.&lt;br /&gt;6.&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________ __________&lt;br /&gt;No matter how random, revealing, or pointless&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________ __________&lt;br /&gt;I swear to answer them 100% truthfully (Maybe.)______________________________________ __________&lt;br /&gt;Repost this to see what others ask you...&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________ __________&lt;br /&gt;IF YOU DONT THEN YOU'RE SCARED OF WHAT PEOPLE MAY ASK (I probably am.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113831047619191224?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113831047619191224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113831047619191224' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113831047619191224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113831047619191224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/01/ask-me-anything.html' title='Ask Me Anything'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113813609025548319</id><published>2006-01-24T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T13:54:50.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hola</title><content type='html'>So I am at home. Sorta bored. I don't really have any new books to read; my mudmaster is still disabled, and playing medievia on telnet is just frustrating; and there isn't much goo on t.v. during the day. So I am updating with no real intent. I have to work today. I'm getting really bored with my job. But, I printed out some resumes today and I am going to submit them at a couple restaurants. Maybe I'll become a waitress again. Funfunfun. Anyway, I realized that I still have to get references, so we will see how it goes. More updates later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113813609025548319?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113813609025548319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113813609025548319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113813609025548319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113813609025548319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/01/hola_113813609025548319.html' title='Hola'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113791319740490725</id><published>2006-01-21T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T22:42:58.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreunk</title><content type='html'>There aws a going away party for Caris tonight.  She is going to centre high to finish her upgrading and then is going to become a teacher.  She was in my math class because she needed math 30 puer to get intol the u of a.  Since when do yuo need math 30 to be a kind3ergarden teacher? my engligh teacher doesn't even have math 30.  Crazy.  So party = me drunk.  But its fun./  And I will be grateful for my bed wonce i decide to use it.. i am sure.  (I am tired I was up early today even though it is saturday.  i couln'tt sleep.  But maybe I will try soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kiss kiss&lt;br /&gt;tiffany&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113791319740490725?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113791319740490725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113791319740490725' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113791319740490725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113791319740490725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/01/dreunk.html' title='Dreunk'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113727096713008217</id><published>2006-01-14T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T14:24:58.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deviant Art</title><content type='html'>I was on my DA account today and I discovered that even before Session, Annette left me a comment.  I didn't even know she had a DA account.  But, because I shamelessly plug things, here it is.  &lt;a href="http://schmeani.deviantart.com/"&gt;http://schmeani.deviantart.com/&lt;/a&gt;   I feel bad that I missed it before Session.  She didn't even say anything about it there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss,&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113727096713008217?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113727096713008217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113727096713008217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113727096713008217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113727096713008217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/01/deviant-art.html' title='Deviant Art'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113717910095508663</id><published>2006-01-13T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T12:05:00.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn Work</title><content type='html'>I hate work.  Not that I hate my job or that I don't like doing what I do, but I hate that I have some of the most inconveiniant shifts.  Like today.  I swore I didn't have to work today and made dinner plans for five.  Then I discovered that I work until 6.  How fun.  So I have to get to dinner when the others will probably be mostly finished. Blah.  Well, I will still make it to the movie at least. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I should go lunch will be over soon.&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss,&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113717910095508663?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113717910095508663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113717910095508663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113717910095508663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113717910095508663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/01/damn-work.html' title='Damn Work'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-113684302572965263</id><published>2006-01-09T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T02:41:31.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>New Year's Kisses to everyone.  I don't have any resolutions, but I'm all open to hearing everybody's.  Do you make resolutions? Do you keep them? Do you find the whole process to be a waste of time?  Leave me a comment and let me know!  Not alot to say about the new year... It honestly feels just like the old one except that my tests are alot closer and it makes me very aware of time, which I usually am not.   Although, pretty much any event does that; birthdays, anniversaries, Canada Day :P. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss Kiss,&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-113684302572965263?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/113684302572965263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=113684302572965263' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113684302572965263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/113684302572965263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2006/01/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112968994387111322</id><published>2005-10-18T20:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T20:45:44.396-06:00</updated><title type='text'>At Work... Again</title><content type='html'>Well, Im working again, even though it isn't my scheduled day to work.  I work tomorrow, how fun.  The regular staffer is sick, she is in the hospital getting tests done but I am assured that she is okay although they are keeping her overnight.  I never realy did understand why people would (and sometimes still do) tell me that people are alright" or "just fine" when they are in the hospital.  If they are just fine, why are they in the hospital to begin with?  Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, so as it turns out, I am a really busy Tiffany.  And apparently I can be pretty hard to get ahold of.  I discovered that today when my mother took me down to Mental Health to make an appointment.  I need to see someone about the dreams I have been having.  I haven't had a proper night's sleep since midway through August and it is definately starting to show on me.  My dad's theory is that I am having bad dreams because I dress mostly in black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has actualy been an abnormal amount of to-do about me dressing in black lately. My dad is constantly harping to me about it, and today when my chiroracter walked into the treatment room I was in, he asked me why I wear all black, and what the primary colour of my wardrobe and such is.  It's Black.  But it was sch a gradual and completely untintentional shift from colour to black in my wardrobe that i didn't really notice until people started to comment on it.  But i g2g Signing out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112968994387111322?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112968994387111322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112968994387111322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112968994387111322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112968994387111322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/10/at-work-again.html' title='At Work... Again'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112519497675548179</id><published>2005-08-27T20:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T20:09:36.760-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy</title><content type='html'>Well, so I figured I should update and let you all know what is going on in my sad, silly little life.  TUXIS camp was awesomely great, and I got soo sunburned because I went without sunblock *tsk silly Tiffany*  I am once again trying to write a novel.  This one is actually coming together not really badly, I took June's advice on starting with conversation(sort of).  The Habitat for Humanity project that some TUXIS people worked on was pretty good too.  I am sad though because there seemed to be alot of tension and bickering(undercover, of course) between the front bench members.    But other than that, just working and doing random stuff.  I have mixed feeling about going back to school in like a week.  anyway, Later all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112519497675548179?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112519497675548179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112519497675548179' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112519497675548179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112519497675548179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/08/lazy.html' title='Lazy'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112304757009582283</id><published>2005-08-02T23:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T23:39:30.100-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored</title><content type='html'>So bored.  I don't really DO anything... I work and this weekend is TUXIS camp soo looking forward to that.  And I went to a movie with Graham last Saturday.  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  Johnny Depp... it was a good movie.  Nothing really to say just felt i had to update... Later all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112304757009582283?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112304757009582283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112304757009582283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112304757009582283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112304757009582283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/08/bored.html' title='Bored'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112199180038762442</id><published>2005-07-21T18:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T18:23:20.406-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter</title><content type='html'>Wel, it took me 10 hours of reading, and I didn't go to bed until 6 am this morning, but I started and completed &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. &lt;/em&gt;I tell you, it is a book to rival the third in the series.  So sad who dies... and you'll never guess who the Half-Blood Prince is, I guessed totally wrong in the beginning.  But no spoilers from me, you have to read the book yourself if you want to know.  If you put your name on a library waiting list now, you may be able to get it by Christmas, lol.  At least the TRAC system has quite alot on their waiting list, I don't know about city libraries... Anyway, I'm at work and have to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112199180038762442?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112199180038762442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112199180038762442' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112199180038762442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112199180038762442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/07/harry-potter.html' title='Harry Potter'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112192014512579713</id><published>2005-07-20T22:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T22:29:05.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Heart Harry Potter</title><content type='html'>My Harry Potter book finally came in today! I can't believe I managed to bring myself to update this instead of reading on....  Short update, I was sorta sick last weekend, it sucked, I hate being sick on my days off.  I am trying to get plot in my head.. it keeps slipping by...  I need new shoes, mine are falling apart and getting uncomfortable to walk in at 11:30 at night on country roads, lol.  I got the new Harry Potter book.  I work alot and nothing interesting really happens to me.  Ryan asked my mom today if I was going to Karleen's tomorrow.  I had no idea people were going to Karleen's tomorrow, I hate when my friends don't call me and tell me about stuff.  They always told me they thought someone else was gonna call me, I don't care if I get 4 different calls(sad that about how many friends I have in the town area) about the same event, I just want to be called.  Hmmm, not much else to say, did I mention I love Harry Potter and got the newest book? Anyway, I have really nothing more to say. I &lt;3 Harry Potter.  Good-night Everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112192014512579713?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112192014512579713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112192014512579713' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112192014512579713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112192014512579713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-heart-harry-potter.html' title='I Heart Harry Potter'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112138830989323363</id><published>2005-07-14T18:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T18:45:09.900-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Aha!</title><content type='html'>So I figured out why I was crashing.  Although I did make it though without hurting myself or doing anything stupid.  I had put a song on my playlist with suicidal lyrics.  Since I wasn't paying full attention to the music, I was pretty much getting the message subliminally.  So I am okay and have changed my playlist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112138830989323363?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112138830989323363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112138830989323363' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112138830989323363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112138830989323363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/07/aha.html' title='Aha!'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112105456931367649</id><published>2005-07-10T22:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T01:23:20.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Burn's test</title><content type='html'>According to this test &lt;a href="http://www.suicideforum.com/bdc/index.html"&gt;http://www.suicideforum.com/bdc/index.html&lt;/a&gt; I guess made by some psychiatrist or some professional person named Burn, I am extremely depressed, I got a 91 out of 100. It's funny, I know I am depressed, by I never really figured extremely. I don't feel different, but I suppose I've been so long without meds, even though I didn't feel different on the meds, even though my dad says I acted happier, I didn't feel happier. Thats why I don't take meds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112105456931367649?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112105456931367649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112105456931367649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112105456931367649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112105456931367649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/07/burns-test.html' title='Burn&apos;s test'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112102262598357323</id><published>2005-07-10T13:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-07-10T13:10:25.986-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Crashing</title><content type='html'>So, here I am, crashing again.  I am in an " I hate myself" dip for the past who knows how long till whenever it ends.  There is the knife that I was using to carve my arm in the desk drawer in front of me.  All I have to do is slide the chair back a little bit and pull it out.  I had a nervous breakdown last night and screamed at my sister and dad for what they see as no apparent reason.  I promised that I wouldn't hurt myself again though and I want to but then I don't want to because I hate the scars, and then I think that all I'm doing is making myself unglyier than I already am and I mean, how can that even be possible? (Any one who has seen me knows that.)  I am all alone in the house, as far as I know, all my friends are either working or not in town.  I can't call anyone and noone is gonna walk in on me and be like "what are you doing?"  I have broken my diet AGAIN and I know its self-destructive to be eating so unhealthily and I'm gonna be morbidly obese, but I can't seem to stop, and then I just feel worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112102262598357323?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112102262598357323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112102262598357323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112102262598357323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112102262598357323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/07/crashing.html' title='Crashing'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112093612961058195</id><published>2005-07-09T13:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-07-09T13:08:49.620-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nose Piercing</title><content type='html'>I think I am starting to hate the nose piercing that I got.  I have heard bad comments about it, (heard a few good ones to, but so far I think people don't really like it.) and it has finally quit falling out of my nose, but I am always paranoid about it(although I am paranoid about pretty much everything.) and now, since I got it within the last 12 months, because I am an idiot, I have to cancel my blood donor appointment for Monday and my dad is gonna yell at me, because everytime I do something he always yells at me.  And he got mand at me when I was turned away from the donor clininc last time for a sore throat.  He yelled at me for getting a sore throat!  I'm just such an idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112093612961058195?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112093612961058195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112093612961058195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112093612961058195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112093612961058195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/07/nose-piercing.html' title='Nose Piercing'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112089978481264854</id><published>2005-07-09T03:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-07-09T03:03:04.840-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Quizzes</title><content type='html'>Just doing some random quizzes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5" width="600" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizfarm.com/1110082904Wicca.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Paganism&lt;/b&gt;. Your beliefs are most closely aligned with those of paganism, Wicca, or a similar earth-based religion. You may also follow a Native American religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="300" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Paganism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;100%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Buddhism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="92" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;92%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Satanism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="88" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;88%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Islam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="54" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;54%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Judaism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="54" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;54%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Hinduism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="54" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;54%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;agnosticism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="54" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;54%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Christianity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="50" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;50%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;atheism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="33" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;33%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=10907"&gt;Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5" width="600" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizfarm.com/1104014769loner.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Loner&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="300" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Loner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;100%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Goth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="69" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;69%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Geek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="63" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;63%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Drama nerd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="56" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;56%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Punk/Rebel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="50" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;50%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Stoner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="38" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;38%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Prep/Jock/Cheerleader&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="25" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;25%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ghetto gangsta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="25" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;25%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=987"&gt;What's Your High School Stereotype?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5" width="600" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Exciting&lt;/b&gt;. You are exciting, people want to fuck your brains out and you know it. Whether it's in an airplane or on the back of the bus, sex with you is always exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="300" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Soft&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="81" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;81%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Exciting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="81" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;81%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Hot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="81" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;81%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Violent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="69" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;69%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Sweet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="31" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;31%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Awkward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="25" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;25%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Shy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="19" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;19%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Wet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="13" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;13%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=3938"&gt;What is your sexual style?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5" width="600" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizfarm.com/1114324112girl5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Slut&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="300" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Slut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="94" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;94%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Goth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="88" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;88%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Hippy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="63" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;63%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Loser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="56" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;56%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Nerdy Girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="50" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;50%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Popular Bitch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="25" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;25%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Athletic Tomboy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="19" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;19%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Preppy Girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="0" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;0%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=28443"&gt;What type of girl are you?!!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5" width="600" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizfarm.com/1107829998Ah.png" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Dirty Piercings&lt;/b&gt;. AH!!! You dirty person you! Put that away!!! Who did that for you!? Your the kinkiest of the kinkiest and probably think you're hot stuff. Well, maybe you are but that's kinda nasty. Ew. Weirdo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="300" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Dirty Piercings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="90" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;90%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Labret Piercing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="80" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;80%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Lip Piercing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="70" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;70%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Cartilage Piercing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="70" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;70%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Tongue Piercing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="60" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;60%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Nipples&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="60" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;60%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Belly Button Piercing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="40" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;40%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Earlobe Piercing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="30" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;30%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Nose Piercing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="30" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;30%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=5741"&gt;What Piercing Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5" width="600" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Unipolar Depression&lt;/b&gt;. Congraulations! You are depressed! You know just how it feels to bear all the world's burdens, and the value of a 19-hour night's sleep. And you really hate that circle-guy thing on your Zoloft pill packets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="300" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Unipolar Depression&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="92" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;92%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Schizophrenia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="83" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;83%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Eating Disorders&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="67" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;67%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="50" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;50%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Antisocial Personality Disorder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="50" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;50%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Borderline Personality Disorder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="33" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;33%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=826"&gt;Which mental disorder do you have?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112089978481264854?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112089978481264854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112089978481264854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112089978481264854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112089978481264854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/07/quizzes.html' title='Quizzes'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112088923493038078</id><published>2005-07-09T00:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-07-09T00:07:14.936-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Canada day was absolutely awesome!  Went into Edmonton on the bus and even though there was a misunderstanding about the time, we had the extra time and Graham and I went to a Vietnamese place for lunch and was there for like 2 hours. It was fun.  And it went by fast.  The whole day was so fun that it ended just like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The opening acts of the whole concert were varied.  The first one, a local band called&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;Calico Drive &lt;/em&gt;was not too bad.  Kinda punk/emo like.  The second band was some rap thing and was kinda bad, even for a rap band.  Then I kinda wasn't paying much attention until the dancers (some ukranian thing i can't pronounce, let alone spell) and they were pretty good, then was Randy Bachman, he was good.  Then was BNL, woOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Graham and I went to see the fireworks on the lawns of the legislature building.  For all the hype that I always hear about them, and even though it was the centennial and all, they weren't that different from the fireworks in veg.  more people, more people who were loud( in Veg. everyone is quiet and just watches the display), but other than that, not really different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have worked everyday since monday.  *pout* I am soo not used to so much work that is not school.  But tomorrow I have no work to go too.  So happyhappy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spanish: 'Hola, tengo un gato en mis pantalones y se arde.'&lt;br /&gt;Translation: 'Hello, I have a cat in my pants and it is on fire.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MMM, when I started this, I had so much to say, and now it has all gone right out of my head.  But then, I started this at 11:24 PM.  Multi-tasking is fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss kiss all,&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112088923493038078?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112088923493038078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112088923493038078' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112088923493038078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112088923493038078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/07/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112018437998235200</id><published>2005-06-30T20:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T20:19:39.990-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You don't have to read this.</title><content type='html'>So, I got paid today so I went up and got my bus ticket to Edmonton for tomorrow.  Happy Canada Day.  I am at work at the library right now, and really should be doing something, but Stephanie(another student) is working with me and she is on nexopia and talking on msn.  So I am okay there.  And she just went on her break, so I am now alone at the front, which I quite enjoy.  Not that I don't like Stephanie, she has always been nice to me, but she is kinda "punk" and she seems to me to be one of those "punks" who do it just because it is currently popular.  It always baffles me how someone could do something like that just because it's "cool".  One of the boys in my grade at school, he has openly admitted to being "emo/punk" simply because it is the trend.  But at least some people can pull it off.  The ones who really annoy me are people like Sarah, who is punk just because it's popular but makes no move to actually listen to the bands that she wears merchandise from.  Like her AFI wristband.  She didn't even know that AFI was a band, she just thought it was the brand of the wristband.  It is crazy.  It is soo quiet in here.  I know that it is a library and all, but usually it is louder than this.  And I am used to having music going when I am at home writing on my blog or just surfing the Web.  Hehe. Web.  Like a spider.  Spider webs are soo pretty sometimes. The ones of my swingset, however, are definately NOT pretty.  There are tiny bugs caught all over them and some of them have dead spiders in it.  I would much rather if the spider is hanging out in the middle of the web, that it be very much alive.  But that's me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a stack of books in front of me in case Amber comes in.  I am taping/stamping/tagging them, and I am hoping that all the patrons who are here,(a whole 2 of them) think that my typing is just me doing some work. But Stephanie was obviosly not working when she was on nexopia, her whole posture screamed "slacker".  MMM I am bored.  Usually, I can't really say that about my job.  Someone just dropped a book in the bin.  Checking in books.  The frustration of trying to make our annoyingly crappy scanner read the barcodes on the books; the satisfying little beep that means I have checked it in and can now file the book without the computer giving the patron overdue charges.  Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to have been the keeper of a room of archives or records, or even a library long before computers.  Far earlier than my current lifetime.  It would be interesting to see how they lent books and kept track of them all while they were lent out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie came back from her break and we talked for a bit.  She brought back a little town newspaper thing that we have called &lt;em&gt;The Bullet&lt;/em&gt;  it is an interesting read.  there is just under an hour and a half left of my shift to work.  Hopefully whoever reads my sheet of things that we do during the night won't realize how skimpy it is tonight because I have totally been slacking.  The book I returned was an R.A. Salvatore book.  He can be an interesting author but I didn't really care much for his books when I started to read them.  The characters are too hard to follow for me.  I do really like Sara Douglass as a fantasy writer though.  And Anne Bishop. Mercades Lackey is also really good, except you really have to read the different trilogies of the Valdemire lands in order of when they take place/when she wrote them, otherwise you are totally lost.  I read one that is actually one of the mage storm trilogy, and it is pretty far back in the timeline, and I made it through the book, but because she assumes when sshe writes that the reader is familiar with the other trilogies, she doesn't explain some of the things, and they build up and get confusing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can never tell about a woman, and if you can, you shouldn't" ~ Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is a very good quote.  Sometimes being a girl means that she is automatically mysterious.  And that's the way it should be.  I can be very open with people I consider my friends, but, for instance, the people I work with and the people I go to school with know really nothing about me. They may think they know, but who I am may be completely different from who I actually am.  I started his post at 6:39 according to the time posting thing at the bottom of this page.  On the clock in the corner of the computer screen, it says that it is 7:56.  how's that for a long post, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie's boyfriend brought her ice cream and he stayed and talked to her for like 15 mintues.  When he left, someone called for her.  Popular people.  At the same time I dislike so many of them, I want to be one of them.  I am reletively happy with my life, and I have wonderful friends who randomly call me when they are going to be in town, but I want people to call me or come visit me and work.  I love my friends, don't get me wrong, but it would be nice to have that one special person, who randomly comes by to see you when (s)he knows that I am working, or does whatever for me, just tiny little things to let me know that (s)he is thinking of me.  I want to be the someone, that when (s)he sees me coming, (s)he turns to his/her friends and says "that's her."  I keep looking for that someone, but I don't think I've found him/her yet.  I guess it might be time to stop looking and stop giving most everyone a chance.  I've been called a "guy hopper" and a slut, so maybe its time to stop and accept that I am probably not going to find that special someone in high school or probably not even in university or collage, even though almost everyone around me seems to be finding love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G2g, Nicole is here to close.  Logging off at - 8:19 PM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112018437998235200?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112018437998235200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112018437998235200' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112018437998235200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112018437998235200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/you-dont-have-to-read-this.html' title='You don&apos;t have to read this.'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-112009852898302351</id><published>2005-06-29T20:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T20:28:48.986-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random-osity</title><content type='html'>I love getting phone calls from out-of town friends saying things like like "I'll be ther in half an hour! what was that address again?"  They are soo much fun!  Although Veg definately needs some better places to go rather than the arcade.  Everything we said was overheard either by Dean or his wife.  But what can ya do, right? Nothing else was open.  It was mucho fun anyways.  And.. I'm typing like an idiot, so I'll go now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-112009852898302351?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/112009852898302351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=112009852898302351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112009852898302351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/112009852898302351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/random-osity.html' title='Random-osity'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111965462831014439</id><published>2005-06-24T17:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T17:10:28.313-06:00</updated><title type='text'>woOP!</title><content type='html'>All my tests are done and I am finished school for the summer!  Unless I see them around town( which, considering the size of Vegreville and the lack of things to do, is a real possibility) I don't ahve to see the people from my high school!  Hooray!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111965462831014439?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111965462831014439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111965462831014439' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111965462831014439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111965462831014439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/woop.html' title='woOP!'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111958552649846359</id><published>2005-06-23T22:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T22:01:35.403-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Drop It</title><content type='html'>OK. Since what I consider cheating me(not cheating ON me, but CHEATING ME) to be differnt that what Brandon considers here it is. He says he did nothing wrong. I say that when he decided that this girl was everything he ever wanted out of love, and it was nothing like me, that to be fair, he should have broke it off with me a month before I broke up with him. This was unfair to BOTH of us. Missy, please stop harassing my ex. Brandon, stop being an asshole about this whole thing, you aren't the only victim here. So just FUCKING DROP IT EVERYBODY!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your consideration.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111958552649846359?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111958552649846359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111958552649846359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111958552649846359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111958552649846359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/drop-it.html' title='Drop It'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111941457567397192</id><published>2005-06-21T22:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T22:29:35.676-06:00</updated><title type='text'>(S)He's Grown Up Too Fast</title><content type='html'>Dickhead says that he has grown up too fast.  He says that he knows what love is and he shouldn't.  I don't claim to be the most mature person on this Earth, nor do I know alot about love.  But I have been in a physically abusive relationship, I have been cheated on by my two longest partners who I really liked(Yes, I do consider Brandon's little realization that I am nothing like the person who embodies everything that he loves, and he still strung me along cheating me).  I have been diagnosed by a therapist to have clinical depression and i was told that I am mentally unstable.  I have been addicted to painkillers, cigarettes, alchohol, marijuana, have attempted suicide by overdose 3 times, and tried to suicide by cutting myself once.  I have been abused by both my mother(physically) and my father(verbally and emotionally), and I have been raped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been with 3 sexual partners, including the rape, but have never been intimate with someone that I have been in a relationship with.  Because I am scared.  I am a man-hater because they frighten me.  I put on such a front, and they really just scare the living daylights out of me.  But the only girl I have ever made out with, told me that it was all just a game to her.  She wanted to find out if I was really attracted to girls.  I was only used as a plaything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not trying to bitch about what has happened to me in my life, I just wanted to get it out there.  I have not tol people before how many times I have attempted suicide before, I think the most I have mentioned is one of my overdoses.  But for Brandon to say that he has grown up too fast might be true, I don't know his particular circumstances, but for him to ever say that he was just "too mature" for me is a load of shit.  I don't believe it for a second.  I think I am probably as mature as I will be unless I give birth to a child, but untill then, this is as good as people are gonna get from me, I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111941457567397192?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111941457567397192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111941457567397192' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111941457567397192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111941457567397192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/shes-grown-up-too-fast.html' title='(S)He&apos;s Grown Up Too Fast'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111941318142383052</id><published>2005-06-21T22:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T22:06:21.426-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Females Win</title><content type='html'>We always win.  That's just how things are.  You don't lose for any reason except that you are male.  It's the way things were and the way they will be...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111941318142383052?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111941318142383052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111941318142383052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111941318142383052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111941318142383052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/females-win.html' title='Females Win'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111880731312190455</id><published>2005-06-14T21:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T21:48:33.126-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Way to show your skills!</title><content type='html'>So Missy and Tony came to my singing year-end recital.  That was good.  First song went pretty well, second one I messed up on, third went pretty good.  Tony and I were playing chess on my bed and Missy was kinda helping/hampering Tony and that was pretty fun.  Then my dad comes to the door and starts talking to us, tells a joke, blah blah blah.  I asked if my mom is home from the store, and he tells me that I'd have to go upstairs and see.  Because I was comfortable and slightly trapped on the far end of the bed by Missy and Tony, I said, "that would mean getting up" having, of course, every intention of getting up.  So my dad goes "yea, that would mean getting up off your fat ass."  And when its in quotations, those are exact words.  I suppose I walked into it, but way to show off your verbal abuse skills in front of my friends, Dad!  You must be so proud of yourself.  And Missy and Tony laughed.  I suppose I shouldn't have expected different, they are only human and in North American society it has become funny to see one person degrade and humiliate another.  It just isn't fun to be on the receiving end of it.  I'm going back on my diet again anyways, and he couldn't have picked a worse time to hit me right in the self-esteem(read previous posts if you're confused...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111880731312190455?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111880731312190455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111880731312190455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111880731312190455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111880731312190455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/way-to-show-your-skills.html' title='Way to show your skills!'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111871490782882410</id><published>2005-06-13T20:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T20:12:00.996-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid STUPID Tiffany</title><content type='html'>He didn't even deny that he cheated on me, just said on his blog &lt;a href="http://braz713.blogspot.com/2005/06/well.html"&gt;http://braz713.blogspot.com/2005/06/well.html&lt;/a&gt; that he was sorry I found out the way I did and that my info is messed up. I am waiting to hear from him I hope he will tell me the whole story. I really liked him. And, regardless of what he says, that was NOT mature. Mature does not mean you take your girlfriend out to show her a new town, find a friend to hang with (both fine), ignore her when she kinda brushes against you because she would like to hold your hand while walking(he kept apologizing for bumping into me and putting half the bloody street between us), get drunk off your ass, imply she's a stoner, and then call yourself too mature for her. The pretty much only reason I decided to break up with him is because of two things, the distance, and because he seemed to want to experiance some things that ive already been through and i figured he might like to be free for it. I thought maybe we could make a second go sometime later, except that i was not sober when I wrote the breakup email(stupid, STUPID Tiffany), but apparently I wasn't even good enough for him to stay faithful to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111871490782882410?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111871490782882410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111871490782882410' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111871490782882410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111871490782882410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/stupid-stupid-tiffany.html' title='Stupid STUPID Tiffany'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111863170213261312</id><published>2005-06-12T21:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T21:01:42.136-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Better note</title><content type='html'>On a better note, I am going to the Barenaked Ladies concert on july 1 with Graham.  Not only is it a concert I was looking for tickets for before he called me and asked me to go, it is Graham who is awesome.  I hope he tries out for Front Four at TUXIS this year so that he can come back another year.  And I think he would do so well for TUXIS and everyone.  He is intellegent, a great debater and very well-spoken, he's a good listener and a wonderful friend.  He would be so good at Front Four.  Well, "que sera, sera" "what will be, will be".  Wishes and dreams...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111863170213261312?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111863170213261312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111863170213261312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111863170213261312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111863170213261312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/better-note.html' title='Better note'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111863047537855711</id><published>2005-06-12T20:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T20:41:15.383-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I ALWAYS get the assholes?</title><content type='html'>I just found out today that Brandon kinda cheated on me when he was in Ottawa.  I guess he met this girl from California there, and he did some stuff with her and wanted to date her.  Way back in may before I broke up with him.  After I broke up with him however, mere days afterwards, he confessed his love to one of my friends from TUXIS, and her boyfriend, whom also goes to TUXIS is also my friend.  I t just makes me wonder what else I didn't know.  I was making an effort to get to know him and the thing with LDR's is that honesty is key.  He had said that he wanted to make it work between us.  Was everything he told me a lie?  He told me that he was kinda a loner in Ottawa who just hung out with one of his old friends.  I am so glad I ended it when I did.  If I had found this out before conference I don't know if I would have gone, and now I am second guessing going to summer camp.  Maybe I should just stay home and work.  I am also glad I didn't find this out while we we dating, it would have depressed me so much, but since we are done, I can put it down to his being an asshole, be angery for a while and love TUXIS all the more for his going to be in France for a year.  By the time he comes back to Canada, I will be so over it I will able to talk to him as well as I can talk to Alexei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I always find the guys that are gonna cheat on me?  Am I just destined to be with a girl because all men are bastards?  Sounds like an idea to me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--DYKE(a.k.a Tiffany)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111863047537855711?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111863047537855711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111863047537855711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111863047537855711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111863047537855711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/why-do-i-always-get-assholes.html' title='Why do I ALWAYS get the assholes?'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111775656327944352</id><published>2005-06-02T17:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T17:56:03.283-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Breakup</title><content type='html'>I got an e-mail back from Brandon today.  It says that he felt the same way about our relationship: we'd be better off as friends.  Said he'd see me this weekend at TUXIS.  I am immensely glad.  I felt horrible for the e-mail.  I was a bitch in it, and it's no excuse that I wasnt exactly sober when I wrote it.  I think it is great that I didn't ruin TUXIS for him ( I would hate myself for that) and that he thinks we should still be friends aswell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a relief&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111775656327944352?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111775656327944352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111775656327944352' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111775656327944352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111775656327944352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/breakup.html' title='Breakup'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111764650376868465</id><published>2005-06-01T11:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T11:21:43.773-06:00</updated><title type='text'>TUXIS</title><content type='html'>well, TUXIS time has come around again.  This Friday, I am off to Edmonton to attend the June Conference of the 86th session of TUXIS Youth Parliament.  Which is a fancy way of saying I'm gonna have a great weekend.  I sent a break up e-mail to Brandon, (I feel horrible about the e-mail, but I am hardly ever on except from school.) but I haven't got a response yet.  I still hope that we can be friends and that he does come to TUXIS this weekend still.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111764650376868465?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111764650376868465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111764650376868465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111764650376868465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111764650376868465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/06/tuxis.html' title='TUXIS'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111653040622170641</id><published>2005-05-19T12:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T13:20:06.226-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chem</title><content type='html'>I severely dislike the people in my chem class.  I used to like chem class, people left me alone for the most part I was up in the back with only Janet and Tanya behind me and noone across or in front of me since Samantha and Nicole left.  I enjoyed that it felt safe and the desks were fairly spread out and I wasn't crowded.  Then, because of the people all over the class who were talking and wouldn't shut up, we now have a seating plan.  And I am in the second seat from the front, with Jolene in front, Kyle on my right, Dustin(sic!) on me left, Amy behind him, Adam behind me, and Christian behind Kyle.  Jolene and Kyle aren't bad, they don't talk much and they generally leave me alone.  Dustin, Amy, Adam, and Christian, on the other hand are, and have been, my biggest tormentors since I entered junior high.  I don't mean to sound all self-pitying and blahblahblah, because I really hate that about myself, but I really really don't like them(I try not to use the word hate but if ever there were people I could...).  I was sitting in chem and we were doing calculations, and Amy was telling the world how she couldn't quite get the question we were on.  So I half-turned to tell her that she didn't need to do molar mass calculations to figure out the final answer, and she just goes "SHHH!"  Adam, Amy and a few others around us just cracked up like it was the wittiest thing ever, and next thing I know, the whole class is laughing for like 5 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just been informed by Ryan, with whom I am conversing as I write this, that I am doing it again.  I am saying that sinse Sam has not been returning my e-mail since she left, that I do not think she wants to see me when she comes into town to visit next weekend.  She is staying with Brittany, and she is not talking to me, either.  So I said as much and he told me that I am doing it again, maening that I am acting like Sarah.  All depressed and self-pitying and blah.  I'm sorry I had a bad day.  I sorry for being the fuck-up that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a much better note, its Thursday and I have no school tomorrow and its the start of May Long.  BOOZE UP AND RIOT!!! RAPE RIOT!(lol Ryan)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111653040622170641?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111653040622170641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111653040622170641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111653040622170641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111653040622170641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/05/chem.html' title='Chem'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111652736436167322</id><published>2005-05-19T12:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T12:29:24.363-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bah!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111652736436167322?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111652736436167322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111652736436167322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111652736436167322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111652736436167322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/05/bah.html' title='Bah!'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111604200476005926</id><published>2005-05-13T21:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T21:40:04.766-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Boring</title><content type='html'>Here it is.  My pity party that I through for myself every now and then, with myself as the only guest.  Except now you are all invited too!  I am sorry Brandon, I don't mean to hurt you in any of this, it isn't directed at you just out at the world in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my friend got a ride home from a guy who is in some of our classes, and he is not the best guy in the world, but not the worst.  I know that there has been something developing between them for the past while, and she called me after to tell me that he did, indead find a little secluded spot along the road to park during the drive home as I had predicted.  My friend ended up introducing this boy into manhood...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah, I'm sooo sorry if someone reads this and is mad at me... tell me and I will take it right down, but why is it that I always attract the NICE guys?  The ones who are looking for a quick, easy, god time never seem to want me.  I want a little adventure, and I want a little fun before I have to grow up and become a responsible adult.  You are only a reckless, sexually promiscuos teenager for a short time once in your life.  Why can't I be one?  For an 'adventurous' girl, I am sure lacking in adventure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111604200476005926?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111604200476005926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111604200476005926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111604200476005926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111604200476005926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/05/boring.html' title='Boring'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111600502903004604</id><published>2005-05-13T11:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T11:23:49.036-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Track &amp; Field</title><content type='html'>Once again that time of year for the Junior High Track and Field Day.  I laugh at all those poor Phys.Ed 20 people who have to go help and guide junior highs to make fools out f themselves.  But then, if it wasn't for all the people out of class, there would actually be learning going on today.   But as it is, I was the ONLY person in my bio class of 30 some people who was not in gym class, so I am sitting in the library looking at stuff on devianart and creating a blog post.  funfunfun.  I found one deviation that is soo homophobic and offensive that I was just appalled that someone would waste ink and paper to write it.  I don't mean to be a bitch or anything, but I did have to report it as a policy violation.  I feel bad but it had to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, back to my other topic, I wonder how many people will be in my social class after lunch, and I wonder if Tanya will show up for CALM or if I will be alone in that class too.  Hmmm.  I should have stayed home today.  Not only is there no productive work going on in my classes, I am totally sick.  Being sick sucks.  This post is just getting more discombobulated as I go along.  I think I will leave now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111600502903004604?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111600502903004604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111600502903004604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111600502903004604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111600502903004604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/05/track-field.html' title='Track &amp; Field'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111592128821900622</id><published>2005-05-12T18:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T18:08:29.596-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Survey</title><content type='html'>I am going to do a &lt;strong&gt;Bold &lt;/strong&gt;survey that I stole from &lt;a href="http://gothicbanana.blogspot.com"&gt;Yulia's blog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;If you want to do it, copy and paste, and &lt;strong&gt;BOLD&lt;/strong&gt; the things that are true for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;001. &lt;strong&gt;I miss somebody right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;002. I watch more tv than I used to.&lt;br /&gt;003. I like olives.&lt;br /&gt;004. &lt;strong&gt;I love sleeping.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;005. I own a home.&lt;br /&gt;006. &lt;strong&gt;I wear glasses or contact lenses.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;007. &lt;strong&gt;I love to play video games.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;010. I have been in a threesome.&lt;br /&gt;011. I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship.&lt;br /&gt;012. &lt;strong&gt;I like my handwriting.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;013. I have acne-free skin.&lt;br /&gt;014. I like and respect Al Sharpton.&lt;br /&gt;015. I curse frequently.&lt;br /&gt;016. &lt;strong&gt;I have changed a lot mentally over the last year.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;017. &lt;strong&gt;I have a hobby .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;018. I have been to another country.&lt;br /&gt;019. I carry my knife/razor/whip/whatever weapon you want here everywhere with me.&lt;br /&gt;020. &lt;strong&gt;I'm&lt;/strong&gt; really, really &lt;strong&gt;smart .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;021. &lt;strong&gt;I've never broken anyone else's bones.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;023. &lt;strong&gt;I love rain.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;024. &lt;strong&gt;I'm paranoid at times.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;025. I would get plastic surgery if it was 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free.&lt;br /&gt;026. &lt;strong&gt;I need money right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;027. I love sushi.&lt;br /&gt;028. &lt;strong&gt;I talk really, really fast sometimes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;029. I have fresh breath in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;030. &lt;strong&gt;I have semi-long hair .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;031. I have lost money in Las Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;032. &lt;strong&gt;I have at least one brother and/or sister&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;033. &lt;strong&gt;I was born in a country outside of the U.S.(CANADA!!!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;034.&lt;strong&gt;I shave my legs.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;035. I have a twin.&lt;br /&gt;037. I couldn't survive without Caller I.D.&lt;br /&gt;038. I like the way that I look.&lt;br /&gt;040. &lt;strong&gt;I know how to do cornrows.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;041. &lt;strong&gt;I am usually pessimistic.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;042. &lt;strong&gt;I have mood swings.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;043. &lt;strong&gt;I think prostitution should be legalized.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;044. I think Britney Spears is pretty .&lt;br /&gt;045. I have cheated on a significant other.&lt;br /&gt;046. &lt;strong&gt;I have a hidden talent...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;047. I'm always hyper no matter how much sugar I have.&lt;br /&gt;048. &lt;strong&gt;I have random singing outbursts.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;049. I am currently single.&lt;br /&gt;050. &lt;strong&gt;I have kissed someone of the same sex.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;051. I enjoy talking on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;052. I practically live in sweatpants or PJ pants.&lt;br /&gt;053. I love to shop.&lt;br /&gt;054. I would rather shop than eat.&lt;br /&gt;055. I would cla ssify myself as ghetto.&lt;br /&gt;056. I'm bourgeoisie and have worn a sweater tied around my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;057. I'm obsessed with my diary.&lt;br /&gt;058. &lt;strong&gt;I don't hate anyone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;059. &lt;strong&gt;I'm a pretty good dancer.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;060. I don't think Mike Tyson raped Desiree Washington.&lt;br /&gt;061. I'm completely embarrassed to be seen with my mother.&lt;br /&gt;062.&lt;strong&gt; I have a cell phone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;063. I watch MTV on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;065. &lt;strong&gt;I have passed out drunk in the past 6 months.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;067. I have never been in a real relationship before.&lt;br /&gt;068. &lt;strong&gt;I've rejected someone before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;069. &lt;strong&gt;I currently have a crush on someone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;070. I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;071. I want to have children in the future.&lt;br /&gt;072. &lt;strong&gt;I have changed a diaper before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;074. &lt;strong&gt;I bite my nails.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;075. I am a member of the Tom Green fan club.&lt;br /&gt;076. &lt;strong&gt;I'm not allergic to anything deadly .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;077. &lt;strong&gt;I have a lot to learn.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;078. &lt;strong&gt;I have dated someone at least 10 years older or younger.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;079. I plan on seeing Ice Cube's newest "Friday" movie.&lt;br /&gt;080. I am very shy around the opposite sex.&lt;br /&gt;081. I'm online 24/7, even as an away message.&lt;br /&gt;082. I have at least 5 away messages saved.&lt;br /&gt;083. &lt;strong&gt;I have been rejected by someone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;084. &lt;strong&gt;I have made a move on a friend's significant other in the past.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;085. I own the "South Park" movie.&lt;br /&gt;086. I have avoided work to play on OD.&lt;br /&gt;087. &lt;strong&gt;When I was a kid I played "the birds and the bees" with a neighbor or chum.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;088. I enjoy country music.&lt;br /&gt;089. &lt;strong&gt;I love my best friends.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;090. I think that Pizza Hut has the best pizza.&lt;br /&gt;092. &lt;strong&gt;I'm obsessive and often a perfectionist.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;093. I have used my sexuality to advance my career .&lt;br /&gt;094. I love Michael Jackson, scandals and all.&lt;br /&gt;095. I know all the words to Slick Rick's "Children's Story".&lt;br /&gt;096. &lt;strong&gt;Halloween is awesome!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;097. &lt;strong&gt;I watch Spongebob Squarepants and I like it&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.098. I have dated a close friend's ex.&lt;br /&gt;099. I'm happy as of this moment.&lt;br /&gt;100. I have gone scuba diving.&lt;br /&gt;101. &lt;strong&gt;I have had a crush on someone you have never met. (at least MOST of you have never met.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;102. &lt;strong&gt;I've kissed someone I knew I shouldn't.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;103. &lt;strong&gt;I play a musical instrument.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;104. I strongly dislike math.&lt;br /&gt;105. &lt;strong&gt;I'm procrastinating on something right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;106. &lt;strong&gt;I own and use a library card.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;107. &lt;strong&gt;I fall in "lust" more than in "love."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;108. Cheese enchiladas rock my socks.&lt;br /&gt;109. I think Lord of the Rings is one of the best movies/books ever written.&lt;br /&gt;110. I'm obsessed with the tv show "The O.C."&lt;br /&gt;111. I am resentful that I have to grow up.&lt;br /&gt;112. I am an entirely different person around different people.&lt;br /&gt;113. &lt;strong&gt;I think the world would be a better place if people just smiled more often.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;114. I think ramen is one of the best foods in the whole world.&lt;br /&gt;115. I am suffering from a broken heart.&lt;br /&gt;116. zzzzZZZZZzzzzzz&lt;br /&gt;117. &lt;strong&gt;No matter where I am or who I'm with, I always seem to be lonely.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;118. I am left handed and proud of it.&lt;br /&gt;119. &lt;strong&gt;I try not to change who I am for someone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;120. My heart resides below my feet.&lt;br /&gt;121. &lt;strong&gt;I have had sex with someone I was not in a relationship with.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;122. &lt;strong&gt;I enjoy smoothies.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;123. I have had major surgery.&lt;br /&gt;124. I have adopted a pet from the SPCA.&lt;br /&gt;125. I am listening to Radiohead right now.&lt;br /&gt;126. &lt;strong&gt;Some people call me by a nickname.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;127. I once stole a music stand.&lt;br /&gt;128. I like pumpkin pie.&lt;br /&gt;129. I love NASCAR!&lt;br /&gt;130. I own over 200 CDs.&lt;br /&gt;131. I work 7 days a week.&lt;br /&gt;132. I have mono.&lt;br /&gt;132. &lt;strong&gt;I don't have the ability to make decisions without changing my mind.(i was indecisive on this one...)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;133. &lt;strong&gt;People tell me I have a horrible sense of humor.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;134. I'm in my PJs.&lt;br /&gt;135. I'm looking for love in all the wrong places.&lt;br /&gt;136. I have a tendency to fall for the wrong boys, or have them fall for me, so I can't help but reciprocate.&lt;br /&gt;137. &lt;strong&gt;I'll try anything three times.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 8. Done drugs other than alcohol or cannabis. &lt;strong&gt;( if i did i dont remember)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;139. I'm having trouble sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;140. &lt;strong&gt;I am a cuddler.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;141. I love John Waters films.&lt;br /&gt;142. I have made a pornographic videotape.  (dont worry-- no nudity)&lt;br /&gt;143. &lt;strong&gt;Sloth is my favorite deadly sin.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;145. I know all the words to the "Firefly" theme song.&lt;br /&gt;146. I love Dr. Pepper.&lt;br /&gt;147. I'm a programmer.&lt;br /&gt;148. &lt;strong&gt;I can't explain why I'm unhappy at times.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;149. &lt;strong&gt;I own and have read all the Harry Potter books.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;150. &lt;strong&gt;I like to smell my own hair.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;151. &lt;strong&gt;I carry a book with me almost everywhere I go.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;153. I have flown to a different country to see a band.&lt;br /&gt;154. Been hospitalized for "mental issue".&lt;br /&gt;155. I have survived totaling a car I was driving.&lt;br /&gt;156. I am addicted to Manga/anime.&lt;br /&gt;157. &lt;strong&gt;Somehow I always seem to get myself into trouble.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;158. I have dated someone for longer than 2 years&lt;br /&gt;159. I have been hit by flying Eric Szmanda spittle. (when i was sslither)&lt;br /&gt;160. I have lived in three different countries.&lt;br /&gt;161. I have tattoos.&lt;br /&gt;162. I have lost someone I cared about deeply.&lt;br /&gt;163. I am not human until I have had some form of caffiene.&lt;br /&gt;164. I can't use can openers.&lt;br /&gt;165. I went to the emergency room last night.&lt;br /&gt;164. &lt;strong&gt;I know all the words to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song.(I am such a loser)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurray for knowing random stuff about me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111592128821900622?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111592128821900622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111592128821900622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111592128821900622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111592128821900622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/05/survey.html' title='Survey'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111568622070509656</id><published>2005-05-09T18:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T18:50:20.726-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Past</title><content type='html'>Don't you just hate when the past comes back to bite you on the ass?  Mine did today.  I was supposed to donate blood today, and I went through the iron tests and filled out the papers and all that, and then I went to be screened.  I answered one question wrong: "Have you, in the past 12 months, had sex with a patrner without knowing his/her sexual past?" Of course, this is the same incident that has been lodged like a parasite in my memory for the past 11 months.  One night, almost a year ago, and its still haunting me.  Well, they say a girl always remembers her first, right?  I couln't tell you his name nor point him out in a crowd, but he just won't leave me alone!  And I really have to make an appointment with my doctor(blah) and make sure I don't have any STD's or STI's, cause that would suck.  I've been putting it off for so long she's gonna make me feel like an idiot too.  But, enought bitching for today, time to go read on-line comics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111568622070509656?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111568622070509656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111568622070509656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111568622070509656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111568622070509656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/05/past.html' title='Past'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111515108871228493</id><published>2005-05-03T14:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T14:11:28.713-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Day</title><content type='html'>School today sucks.  I woke up with a huge headache, to blaring music from upstairs that would have drowned out my own stereo had I turned it on.  I got my cheistry test back, and although I thought I did well on it when I handed it in, I only got 58%.  Fun.  Bio test next block, social class work that noone in my group did anything for, Psychology that is asking far too many personal questions.  Then I have music (hooray! a good point in my day) and then I have to iron my uniform and polish my boots for Cadets.  I can't believe that I put it off until Tuesday.  Then I have to get cracking on those 2 essays due for social class tomorrow, the 3 dues friday, and my group research.  This should be a fun evening.  Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111515108871228493?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111515108871228493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111515108871228493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111515108871228493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111515108871228493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/05/bad-day.html' title='Bad Day'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111499644870657587</id><published>2005-05-01T19:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T19:14:08.706-06:00</updated><title type='text'>She Broke Him</title><content type='html'>Ok so one of my good friend's girlfriend dumped him. That probably in itself wouldn't be so bad, except everyone has known for weeks(except him) what she was going to do.  I really care for this friend, he's one of my closest, and it just kills me to see him so sad.  I mean, we were having a youth group supper meeting and he barely ate anything, which is totally out of character for him.  And one of my other friends is taking credit for breaking them up because the guys don't like each other.  Stupid teenage romances.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111499644870657587?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111499644870657587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111499644870657587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111499644870657587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111499644870657587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/05/she-broke-him.html' title='She Broke Him'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111483513810007963</id><published>2005-04-29T22:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-29T22:25:38.100-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Medievia</title><content type='html'>Hooray! My dad installed a new anti-virus andfirewall thing and now I can access Medievia again. (&lt;a href="http://www.medievia.com"&gt;www.medievia.com&lt;/a&gt; to see what the hell I'm talking about if you don't know).  I love it soooo much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a bad note, it's the weekend and I'm sick.  Doesn't that just suck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111483513810007963?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111483513810007963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111483513810007963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111483513810007963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111483513810007963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/medievia.html' title='Medievia'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111480709210953511</id><published>2005-04-29T14:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-29T14:38:12.110-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Issues</title><content type='html'>I began a new blog-site, one for Issues.  It is the Issues link on the side.  It may be just be posting things there, but I am inviting a couple friends to join it as a blog-team with me, and anyone can post a commment.  It is just in the fledgling stage right now, but check it out.  If you have any issues you would like me to discuss on the site, or want to know about becoming a member of the site, e-mail me at xaevya@yahoo.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111480709210953511?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111480709210953511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111480709210953511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111480709210953511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111480709210953511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/issues.html' title='Issues'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111473467730437684</id><published>2005-04-28T18:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-28T18:31:17.306-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nazi School</title><content type='html'>So, since this is like by bitch/rant board anyway, I'm not gonna feel bad for ranting here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christian got a suspension from school for just kinda joking around, and Curtis got a suspension for &lt;strong&gt;bending his knees. &lt;/strong&gt;He was asked "what kinda of pelvic movement is that?" and was suspended for inappropriate sexual conduct, because there was a girl standing there facing him.  The girl tried to tell the teacher that he didn't do anything and she wasn't offended, but the teacher gave him a two day out of school suspension anyway.  Since we got Fleming as our new principal, our school is going like Nazi or something. Crystal also got a suspension for saying "Fucking" when she was explaining something to someone. She was't saying it as an insult to anyone, she was just angry.  I was told that these suspensions don't affect me, but if they can suspend people for joking around with friends, bending their knees, and for letting a swear slip out of your mouth once, I am definately Fucked Over.  I swear, Fleming is just insane, and now that Mr. Mills is on her side, things are so much worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111473467730437684?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111473467730437684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111473467730437684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111473467730437684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111473467730437684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/nazi-school.html' title='Nazi School'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111463545739354020</id><published>2005-04-27T15:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-27T14:57:37.393-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrgh</title><content type='html'>I missed a choir field trip/performance today.  It may have been my own damn fault because I'm such a moron that I listened to Ryan when he told me that we were going to leave the school at 12:30, or because I was sitting in social class and lost track of the time and left class at 12:35, or maybe because I didn't remember what time was on the permission form that I had my mom sign and that I brought back to the school yesterday so that I could go.  Or since, they left at 11:30 instead of 12:30, maybe Ryan told me the wrong time, either on porpose or accidentally, or maybe someone might have thought to come get me from class, since I am the second alto section by myself, and they were missing a whole section of the choir since I wasn't there, or maybe because I fucked up at the Kiwanis Festival yesterday in Edmonton and sang at my normal volume instead of quiet like everyone else did and you could hear my part(that MUST be a bad thing, right?) that we got Merit, which is like a "Thanks for coming" type of award, that Ryan was conspiring with Karma and them, since he's so tight with them, that I shouldn't come and fuck up this performance too. Or maybe it was Meagan also that he conspired with, who hates me because she thinks that I said something to the police about her boyfriend, Tony supplying alcohol to minors.  I never said a god-damned THING to the police about any of that crap.  So maybe they just didn't weant me there, because they don't like me and didn't want me to fuck up the performance by singing like I always do in Choir rehersal.  Maybe they really do laugh at me behind my back in Choir class like Ryan told me, and Brittany and Karleen were just trying to make me feeling better when they told me that it isn't true.  I bet they are all in on this together, just like they always seem to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111463545739354020?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111463545739354020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111463545739354020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111463545739354020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111463545739354020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/arrgh.html' title='Arrgh'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111446268319519570</id><published>2005-04-25T15:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T14:58:03.196-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, things just suck.  Like , right now, I have no particular gripes or complaints except for this HUGE, PoUnDiNg, migraine that I have.  I just want to go home and lay down with a cool washcloth over my eyes to keep the light out.  But, instead, I am in school, underneath flouresant lights, which of course, only make things worse.  Although I did take 3 Advil, which is technically an overdose, but it fuzzes the corners of the headache a little bit, even though it doesn't help much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111446268319519570?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111446268319519570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111446268319519570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111446268319519570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111446268319519570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/ouch.html' title='Ouch'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111445240777696337</id><published>2005-04-25T13:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T12:06:47.776-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I had a couple friends over on the weekend for a (juvenile as this sounds) slumber party.  We barbequed some veggie-burgers and spent a while just hanging out, first on my swingset, then on my deck and talking about random stuff.  Then we took all our stuff out to the tent trailer where we were sleeping.  We did some random stuff, some tarot, and then we brought out the drinks! Yummy.  So after we all decided we were gonna go to bed lights were out and everything, then we just talked about everything.  It was great.  We spent the next day talking, and we played on one of my gaming systems and we went out to Luogheed for a fun-fly with the rest of my family.  It was pretty good.  It was the most fun I'd had in it seems like forever.  I hope we can do it again sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111445240777696337?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111445240777696337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111445240777696337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111445240777696337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111445240777696337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/monday.html' title='Monday'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111423957949511230</id><published>2005-04-23T02:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-23T01:08:18.473-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>Ok. So I am hoping that Brandon makes it through the weekend. I know that may sound odd to some people because he isn't sick, but I am seriously concerned for his wellbeing. He is afraid that he is a monster and he is afraid of what he might do. He says he doesn't know and has never really known who he is. He hates himself. He has already tried to commit suicide once in teh past week or so and I am worried. Happy two months to us, I'm worred for his life and our relationship. He feels that he's just been bothering me with the stuff he is telling me. If he can't go to his girlfriend who can he go to? I keep telling him that it's what I'm here for and he doesn't seem to believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes hurt from all the crying that I've done today.  My dad had called my old therapist, wanting her to talk to me because he saw some healing cuts on my arm and was(is?) a high-risk suicide case.  This is definately NOT true.  As much as life can be pretty bad sometimes, I do not really want to die right now.  If I die tomorrow, I'm not gonna rage at the universe, but I am not going to hasten my way to the world beyond this one.  So I cried at the therapist session when she pulled me out of class.  Man was it awkward going back to class with a muchly red and blotchy face, making it very obvious that I had been crying.  And then of course I just had to watch sappy movies which I can usually watch but today I had to cry with them.  And then there is all this with Brandon.  I am just cried out for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111423957949511230?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111423957949511230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111423957949511230' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111423957949511230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111423957949511230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111413105238597770</id><published>2005-04-21T18:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T18:50:52.386-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Comments</title><content type='html'>Okay.  So I was looking at my comments from one of my previous posts, and I was just wondering who made the comment about always being behind me(or something just as good and supporting).  If you are commenting on this blog because of something I said and I know you, Please, even if you are posting it as an anonymous commenter, please sign the end of your comment with yuor name so I know who you are and can give due credit(if only sometimes in my mind :P).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiffany&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111413105238597770?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111413105238597770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111413105238597770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111413105238597770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111413105238597770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/comments.html' title='Comments'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111411383748997855</id><published>2005-04-21T15:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T14:03:57.490-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored</title><content type='html'>So I'm in the library at school on the computer right now.  I have to work today and I didn't have the best morning and I forgot some things for work.  I might be able to get along without them but I'm not sure.  And Since it's Thusday, The O.C. and Tru Calling are usually on right when I get home from work, so I hoe that our cable has been hooked up again.  I missed House on Tuesday and im kinda anxious to know what happened.  I know that this is a bunch of inane drivel, with really no meaning but I don't watch alot of T.V. and those are the main shows that I do watch.  So, with all this it's still a pretty average day. But I am bored and talk about television in my blog when I really should be doing my psychology. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess one of my friend's boyfriend is kinda pissed at her.  I'm reading his journal entry on DeviantArt discribing how he didn't get her online message that she wasn't going to be able to meet him last Friday and spent eight hours looking for them and wasting time and spending money at West Ed.  So as I was sitting beside her at lunch while I was posting my other etry, there she is crying and only told me to read his journal entry at the end of lunch after the bell hasd rang if I really wanted to know what her subsequent reply in the form af a DeviantArt journal was for.  So I'm not quite finished reading this guy's journal, but he describes a slow, smouldering rage, which doesn't really bode well for their relationship in my thinking.  I hope they get over this, he makes her so happy and every couple has fights and misunderstandings.  Yea he seems kinda upset with her.  Long distance relationships are hard.  Especially when the couple relies on teh internet for their main source of communication and one or both people are rarely on or one is usually on but then isn't or doesn't have access for a while, without giving notice to the other person.  It can kinda throw the other person for a loop.  (I'm sorry Brandon.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111411383748997855?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111411383748997855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111411383748997855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111411383748997855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111411383748997855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/bored.html' title='Bored'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111410629098032563</id><published>2005-04-21T12:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T11:58:10.980-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's to Hoping</title><content type='html'>So yesterday was my birthday and it was pretty good.  Brandon called and it made me very happy.  Although it was the first birthday I have had without a call from my grandparents.  Either they forgot or something happened or they went out of town or something.  I am worried about Brandon( I read your blog...) and I'm still worried about most of my other friends and their assorted issues.  But it wasn't a bad day and I'm hoping my 18th year won't be as bad as my 17th was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111410629098032563?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111410629098032563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111410629098032563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111410629098032563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111410629098032563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/heres-to-hoping.html' title='Here&apos;s to Hoping'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111352631302618099</id><published>2005-04-14T19:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T18:51:53.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday</title><content type='html'>It is 6 days until my 17th birthday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111352631302618099?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111352631302618099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111352631302618099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111352631302618099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111352631302618099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/birthday.html' title='Birthday'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111352623388003594</id><published>2005-04-14T19:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T18:50:33.880-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Teenage Drama</title><content type='html'>Ok, I don't care if people are gonna tell me I'm just being dramatic or whatever, but I need to vent I don't care if people tell me that I'm just blowing smoke out my ass.  So, I've got my friend who was raped, still hasn't contacted me, she says she's fine and she's changing her story to say she doesn't even think its the guy she told me it was.  I have another friend who I guess his stepfather got drunk and yelled and my friend's mother at three in the morning, and now my friend is drinking and bringing liquor to school all the time now.  I have another friend who is going through some things and so she is moving at the end of the semester to Saskatchewan.  AND I have another friend who has signed an agreement that if she hurts herself one more time, she will be institutionalized.  Not to mention I have my own shit to deal with, school, work(2 jobs), music, church, cadets, and family issues of my own.  I mean, my father told me that he was going to commit suicide because I told him that when he loses his temper and starts punching through wals, and throwing and breaking things inches from my head that he scares me a little.  So he told me he was goin to overdose on his pain medication so that I could be rid of him.  He totally overreacted.  But since one friend was raped and another attempted suicide the same weekend this hapens, I think only one person, Missy, even bothered to listen when I was trying to tell my problems.  And now that Sam has skipped town it really isn't any better.  I mean, I love Sam and al, but even when she's gone, I still take backsage in all our mutal friends' eyes to her.  I swear all of this is going to drive me insane!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111352623388003594?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111352623388003594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111352623388003594' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111352623388003594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111352623388003594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/teenage-drama.html' title='Teenage Drama'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111333609809596352</id><published>2005-04-12T15:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-12T14:01:38.096-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Performance</title><content type='html'>I talked to Andrea, and gave her a copy of the music she needs to play, and she has agreed to accompany me on April 20th (my birthday, woo!) when I sing background music for a slide show for the Volunteer Supper that VALID is putting on for people.  Since I will onyl be doing background music, they will listen to me, which is good because I love to sing for people, but they will not be looking at me which is also very good because that really takes alot of pressure off me to be doing something other that just standing around while I am singing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, (lol pun wasn't actually intended) I am supposed to be, and really should be doing my psychology right now.  I am like halfway done this booklet, and then I only have two more to do, but I also only have until September to finish this and I have to write the final exam at some point aswell.  AND I have to finish doing my work experience for Sylvia at the Health Centre.  She keeps telling me that when I am done my hours for work experience, she will start paying me if I keep coming in.  Hooray for more money.  I am so pathetically broke right now.  Blah.  anyway I am going to work on my psych.  Signing off,...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111333609809596352?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111333609809596352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111333609809596352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111333609809596352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111333609809596352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/performance.html' title='Performance'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111332917088486448</id><published>2005-04-12T13:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-12T12:06:10.886-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend</title><content type='html'>TUXIS was absolutely awesome. It was great seeing Brandon, Katie, Heather and pretty much everyone else again. Hearts! I have also thought about what positions to apply for on front bench for next year. I will apply for Social Action and Devotions. Membership would also be kind of fun too. I cannot wait until Jasper. It's Tuesday and I am at school, everyone is still talking about Sam, and I am still happy, just from TUXIS. So even though things such, I'm still happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111332917088486448?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111332917088486448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111332917088486448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111332917088486448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111332917088486448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/weekend.html' title='Weekend'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111292279916927425</id><published>2005-04-07T19:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T19:13:19.170-06:00</updated><title type='text'>TUXIS</title><content type='html'>So I get to go away tomorrow for TUXIS conference.  It's in Stettler and I get to see Brandon and everyone!  That makes me happy. :)  I am practically counting down the hours until I leave.  Well not practically, it is 20 3\4 hours until I go. :P  Sam you need to come back.  I know this sounds harsh, but I went through a similiar thing and I am still in town...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111292279916927425?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111292279916927425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111292279916927425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111292279916927425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111292279916927425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/04/tuxis.html' title='TUXIS'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111181566383587549</id><published>2005-03-25T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-03-25T22:41:03.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Drinking On The Inside...</title><content type='html'>I swear everyone of my friends is just seriously FUCKED UP.  Between things going on with my best freind that she won't even tell me and I have no idea, and some serious shit going down with two of my other good friends, and what's been going on in my life the past couple weeks,...  DAMN!  And if these are my friends, what the hell is going on with the rest of our generation?  I shudder to even thing about whatever could possibly be worse than this with the person still living...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111181566383587549?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111181566383587549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111181566383587549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111181566383587549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111181566383587549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/03/im-drinking-on-inside.html' title='I&apos;m Drinking On The Inside...'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11684238.post-111173091349739260</id><published>2005-03-25T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-03-24T23:08:33.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank whoever that this day is over.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This has been one of the worst days of my life.  I feel like finding a reassuringly sharp object.  Just to be able to feel the warm flow of blood over my wrist.  I am at once wishing I was an island and having no friends to cause me troubles, and sending my eternal thanks for all my wonderful friends.  Though there aren't many, those that I have are mostly good for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11684238-111173091349739260?l=xavea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/feeds/111173091349739260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11684238&amp;postID=111173091349739260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111173091349739260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11684238/posts/default/111173091349739260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xavea.blogspot.com/2005/03/thank-whoever-that-this-day-is-over.html' title='Thank whoever that this day is over.'/><author><name>Xavea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16078536792319810828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
