<?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-1806620027378326939</id><updated>2011-12-20T03:03:16.383-08:00</updated><category term='a moment of insanity'/><category term='blue whale publications'/><category term='music therapy harmonica'/><category term='finals art'/><category term='a paing a day duane keiser blog every day student life college love relationships'/><category term='haircut breakdown housewives'/><category term='nathan'/><category term='ayo leaf'/><category term='fearless'/><category term='biology blind date conversational suggestions'/><category term='spring playlist'/><category term='party'/><category term='8 make up tips tricks and techniques to a better looking you.'/><category term='jennifer'/><category term='sleep deprivation.'/><category term='prick'/><category term='whole foods'/><category term='entj'/><category term='publishing'/><category term='pedophilia photosynthesis blog college life old young biology exam mitosis gonads no golfing i like you amy sedaris rocks shop talk'/><category term='who are you'/><category term='publisher'/><category term='clubbing night life'/><category term='stress hopeless romantics'/><category term='rain'/><category term='polo'/><category term='espnu apsu govs governors jacksonville state gamecocks'/><category term='baby'/><category term='1000 dollars'/><category term='marriage pregnancy'/><category term='pap'/><category term='magazines'/><category term='till the new year 08'/><category term='planner'/><category term='bitch please'/><category term='new girl'/><category term='rockin eve seacrest dick clark harmonica harvest'/><category term='twitter elizabethboom'/><category term='scam'/><category term='blood drive american red cross'/><category term='butterflies'/><category term='google search history'/><category term='cashmere mafia'/><category term='harmonica'/><category term='decisive'/><category term='pavlov&apos;s law  hooters  sean lennon hall and oates neil young playlist'/><category term='not dating'/><category term='guys need to grow up'/><title type='text'>A Day in the Life.</title><subtitle type='html'>Online blogger Elizabeth's daily rantings on college life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-3314528534971088949</id><published>2009-01-16T09:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T09:50:55.449-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='who are you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='polo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prick'/><title type='text'>Who are you??</title><content type='html'>So after I wrote my last blog a couple days ago I went to this latino shadow meeting. I then got invited to an International Club meeting. I met so many people. I met people from Spain, Zembabwe, England, Jamaica, Sweden, and Korea. I really liked them. Everyone was so friendly. I wasn't invisible anymore. It was really excited. I finally felt the way I did before I came here and let my guard down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was shadow day. We all met up at lunch. I met this cool girl who goes to my school and we made arrangements for a party last night. Finally, I won't be in my dorm all night... again. I looked nice but I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard. You know by dressing like a whore or something. I met some nice people but I met a couple assholes too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Just because I have a cup of hunch punch in my hand doesn't mean I'm drunk.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this guy who had a polo sweater just like mine, except mine had a magenta horse. I tried to introduce myself and told him I liked his sweater because I had the same one. Then he asked me where I transferred from and I said Tennessee. Then he was like eww. Tennessee and walked off. That was really awkward and rude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their having another party like that next Thursday. I am so going to be there... in my sweater. Just so he knows I wasn't trying to make conversation. I really do have that sweater. Oh yeah, you have to wear polo and northface to fit in there anyway. I'll look too weird in a jcrew sweater and 7 jeans. I can't forget my wallabees. I'd be excommunicated without those. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie is coming up today and we're going to the Barista's party. They'll probably be more chill. I'm glad she'll be there for me to socialize with. I wouldn't want to be forced to make conversation with people that know their attractive. Just so they can make me feel inadequate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-3314528534971088949?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/3314528534971088949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=3314528534971088949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/3314528534971088949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/3314528534971088949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2009/01/who-are-you.html' title='Who are you??'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-2229923735995647795</id><published>2009-01-14T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T10:30:16.676-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitch please'/><title type='text'>Walking On Matchsticks</title><content type='html'>Things are progressively getting a little better than the last blog. After I wrote that I went to the local coffee shop to get caffinated and finish a little drawing assignment. In the process, I got invited to a party by the gorgeous barista. Finally, I can get a start on my social life outside of my residence hall. While I was finishing us my little drawings a couple girls were standing over my shoulder looking. I turned around and one of them sarcastically said, "Nice Drawing". Then they walked away chuckling. That is so dumb. How are you gonna go to a local coffee shop and try to put down someone who is doing something creative? Go drink coffee with your grandmother. I wish I wasn't in shock. I could have really made her feel dumb. But a little after I got my handmade map to the party. That they probably weren't invited to because they're dumb bitches. They were also boring looking. After that I watched a movie with some new neighbors. I also did the same last night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate lunch alone the past couple days. Dinner alone yesterday. When I walk places people get in my space and expect me to move and they are coming from all sorts of directions. The space shifts around me like a pinball in a storm. It's getting uncomfortable and annoying. I'm the only one forced to walk crazy. Maybe I should shove someone back so then people will quit. They do it around me, but they respect each others space. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today the peope around me in French were talking to me. One of them I met on the first movie night. She's hilarious and fun to be around. The other two girls were pretty nice. In 3D Design we started building sculptures with hot glue and tooth pics. I'm working on a giant matchstick wreath. I had to find a seat with an outlet. Ofcourse there was one right by this guy who looked like Johnny Depp in Crybaby sitting alone. I jacked that seat before any of the other girls could think about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So heres what I've learned. Just because I'm new doesn't mean I have to keep quiet and let people walk all over me. But one of my resolution was to not be a bitch this year. So next time someone makes fun of me for doing something creative, I might at least crack a sarcastic smile and say Thanks. Maybe, even brag about it. Or ask them a hard artsy question to make them feel out of place. And I might shove someone if they get too far into my space. I know they'd do the same to me. I'm tired of walking in zig zags.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-2229923735995647795?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/2229923735995647795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=2229923735995647795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2229923735995647795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2229923735995647795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2009/01/walking-on-matchsticks.html' title='Walking On Matchsticks'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7092392598050547322</id><published>2009-01-12T10:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T11:00:55.272-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All By Myself</title><content type='html'>Right now I'm feeling pretty lonely and not like myself. When I walk through the crowds of kids in the dining hall who know each other I feel like a shadow. Not even that, completely invisible. No one knows who I am, why should one care. I am no longer BOOM! I am now some girl. Not even an exceptional or gorgeous girl. The girls here are so perfect. I'm just alright looking. But,not someone who should be chased down or complimented. I feel numb. Not depressed. I also feel like I just started a game of Sims. I just put my space together. I'm getting to know my environment and I have to impress everyone. I can't walk around the dorm with my hair looking scraggly and dark circles under my eyes. People might think I have a problem. Since when do I care?? Since I have no one here to have my back. I try to tag along but I get left behind. Then I awkwardly exit with a bitter smile on my face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate dinner alone last night. I would have eaten lunch alone if all the tables weren't full. I just hate being that random person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7092392598050547322?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7092392598050547322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7092392598050547322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7092392598050547322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7092392598050547322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2009/01/all-by-myself.html' title='All By Myself'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-84753615693921407</id><published>2009-01-10T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T11:50:57.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not So Scared.</title><content type='html'>I went to orientation this past Thursday. this school is like a dream. Our Art building is open 24 hours!? Need I say more. I still haven't talked to any collegues. I had the opportunity. But, I didn't take it. I was too shy. There are a lot of new people. So That makes me feel more at ease. My best friend is coming down to visit on MLK weekend. I'm preety excited. I go back tomorrow. I'll let you guys know how that goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-84753615693921407?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/84753615693921407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=84753615693921407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/84753615693921407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/84753615693921407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2009/01/not-so-scared.html' title='Not So Scared.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-3611863185272544882</id><published>2009-01-07T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T14:49:40.679-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='butterflies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new girl'/><title type='text'>Butterflies.</title><content type='html'>Right now, I am feeling dizzier than before the first time I gave blood. Sure I said I'd be fine and make friends in a snap. But latley, my mind keeps asking questions that I can't answer. I'm not the same person my friends knew at Austin Peay. I was secure, confident, and no one messed with me. I had not one... but several different groups of buddies. If I was bored.. it didn't take me long to find out what was going on. My first semester there the other froshes texted me asking about parties. I was a socialite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, now I'm going to a new school. I do miss my friends. But that isn't what worries me. What worries me is not knowing anyone. Not one person. I am not the same. I am &lt;strong&gt;painfully&lt;/strong&gt; shy. The only way I'd talk to anyone is if they talked to me first or if we had to for an in class assignment. I hate being alone. My partner in crime isn't with me. I know I can't replace her. I don't know the downlow here. I used to be El Capitan and the Ringleader. Now I'm just the shy and probably very lost new girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GCSU has a beautiful and inviting campus. But they building are big, intimidating, and I don't know which subjects are taught in which buildings. I went on Tuesday and was excited. The administrators were much nicer and more helpful than the ones at my old school. I also applied for a job at a couple paces. The town is little and neat. But, those first days are going to be strange and awkward. There is no avoiding that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-3611863185272544882?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/3611863185272544882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=3611863185272544882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/3611863185272544882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/3611863185272544882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2009/01/butterflies.html' title='Butterflies.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-5057140948815201836</id><published>2008-12-24T13:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T13:57:48.135-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Georgia? Why??</title><content type='html'>My friends have been asking me this a lot lately. I'm transferring. It's also not a death sentance. GC&amp;SU is an awesome school. They have fencing, archery, and lacross. Also it's not like I'm giving up my friends. We are adults... we drive, text, and have facebook. I like Georgia. They have some of the best art programs, museums, and internships. By the time I graduate and have money to make art the market should be better anyway. So people will buy instead of look. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also thinking about dropping my ed minor. I am tired of school. It will take me too long for just a Bachelor. I also haven't taken any yet so I'm not compromised. I want to just finish up as soon as I can. There are a lot of other jobs out there anyway. I guess I'm afraid if I get a "real job" that I'll get stuck doing those things instead of what I really want to do. It takes a lot of time to put pieces together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also keep getting sidetracked. Yesterday I wanted to be a professional ukelele player. Last semester I wanted to start a Peter, Paul, &amp; Mary tribute band. I wanted to be a U.S. Senator the year before. My freshman year I wanted to be Katie Couric and finished in 9th to become her intern. It's hard for me to take life seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-5057140948815201836?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/5057140948815201836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=5057140948815201836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/5057140948815201836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/5057140948815201836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/12/why-georgia-why.html' title='Why Georgia? Why??'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-8554123111779933797</id><published>2008-09-19T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T06:07:24.027-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep deprivation.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a moment of insanity'/><title type='text'>Sleep Deprivation Leads to...</title><content type='html'>In my first adult tantrum I kind of broke my phone and my hand. I had already talked to my roommate about how I don't want to sleep with the tv on and she seemed to have understood. She still turns in on after I fall asleep. Wtf?? That is the worse time. Ruin the whole point of me sleeping early just to take away hours. I turned it off. But an hour and a half later she turned it back on. Goodness. Once she left the room I knew there was no going back. I tried to achieve 9 hours last night and only received 5. I lost my shit at 7 in the morning. I don't even know how my hand got fractured. I was like an angry zombie. I went incredible hulk on my side of the room. My phone screen is smashed and I lost the battery. I don't even care about anything anymore. Just getting sleep and I can't even get that. I'm talking the the RHD again. I am broken and defeated inside. I really need some rest. I don't even have strep anymore and I still feel awful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-8554123111779933797?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/8554123111779933797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=8554123111779933797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/8554123111779933797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/8554123111779933797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/09/sleep-deprivation-leads-to.html' title='Sleep Deprivation Leads to...'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-2721895667361036578</id><published>2008-09-17T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T13:28:18.175-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guys need to grow up'/><title type='text'>No Dating.</title><content type='html'>So I decided that I don't want to date at all for a while. And I really want to stop dating guys my age. They are so immature. I can't deal with it. Not all are, but most. I'm not even the kind of girl that always needs to be with someone. I have my friends and my own life. I also think it's annoying when some of my guy friends start dating and write me off because they "might get tempted". Then you obviously aren't dating the right person and you don't know me that well. If I know someone has a girlfriend and they tried to make a move I'd bust them in the face. I don't want to date anyone unnless I really really liked them. Because then it would be dumb not to. I'm also tired of people thinking I wrote them off for another guy. Maybe you're just boring. Did you ever think of that? Because I'm definatley not seeing or talking to anyone. If I ever wanted to I could. I'm single and I run my own life. But, seriously... I don't play those kind of games. and guys... grow up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-2721895667361036578?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/2721895667361036578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=2721895667361036578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2721895667361036578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2721895667361036578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/09/no-dating.html' title='No Dating.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-5687095631774027288</id><published>2008-08-13T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T15:06:32.187-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='publisher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1000 dollars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magazines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jennifer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blue whale publications'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='publishing'/><title type='text'>Scam Alert: Blue Whale Publishing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://dailyinternetdigest.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/scam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://dailyinternetdigest.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/scam.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Innocent people everywhere get scammed every day. I happen to be one of them. I thought that the scammed were oblivious and probably lacked common knowledge. If It happened to be, it will probably happen to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday  afternoon I got a call from a random number. Since it wasn't blocked, I answered anyway. The girl named "Jennifer" gave me some great news. I won a $1000 dollar online shopping spree. after hearing this I let her tell me whatever. I didn't care. I won $1000 dollars. She knew my first name and my cell. I figured it was real. They even knew my new address. But, there was a catch. I'd have to subscribe to some magazines. It was only 40 for me since I got a "student discount". Then she gave me a confirmation number: 1221. Then she said I'd get a call back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One hour later I got a call from "Nathan". Nathan wanted me to pay with my card on the phone. I went ahead because lots of places have you pay by phone. Look at all the stuff thats sold to us on tv. he even knew the first number on my card. Then he asked for my 3 digit security code on the back. I didn't care. I was already ready to shop it up on the net. While Nathan was doing this he was hitting on me. He said he wanted me to come to Tampa and buy me a drink. He said if something went wrong he'd clean our house. I should have been worried. But, I guess he's gonna have to do a lot of scrubbing when I get a hold of that jerk. He's also going to have to buy me a little more than a drink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I got of the phone I had a weird feeling. They called me again! When my mom got home I told her the news. She wasn't thrilled. She told me to check my account. The money was gone. I google the company. It's a scam according to every site that came up. The same thing happened to everyone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I closed my account and ordered a new card. I told my friend about it and apparently her boyfriend got a call from the same people. The said he'd get a diamond ring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's there number if they contact you...&lt;br /&gt;or if you want to leave scary messages.&lt;br /&gt;1-352-684-1795&lt;br /&gt;1-352-684-1406&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There P.O. Box is &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blue Whale Publications, Inc&lt;br /&gt;PO Box 666840&lt;br /&gt;Pompano, FL 33066-6840&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and they sent me a release for my gift card.&lt;br /&gt;This release requires my signature. Yeah right.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they call you. Don't feel bad about hanging up. They just want your money. You might not even be lucky enough to get a discount.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-5687095631774027288?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/5687095631774027288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=5687095631774027288' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/5687095631774027288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/5687095631774027288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/08/scam-alert-blue-whale-publishing.html' title='Scam Alert: Blue Whale Publishing'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-4802507096724991833</id><published>2008-08-12T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T10:51:53.987-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='8 make up tips tricks and techniques to a better looking you.'/><title type='text'>Make Up Techniques for the Busy Ladies.</title><content type='html'>We live in a society where it is essential to look your best. but looking your best doesn't mean you need to whore on your make up and dress like a prostitute. The purpose of make up and beauty products should be to bring out your best... not hide it or mask it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not good at too many things. But, I am good at looking good. I can go from looking like a sloppy jobless 20 year old to looking like a starlet. Are you ready to look your best?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Wash your face. Make up tends to spread better when your face isn't dirty. If you have acne, you should probably get face wash for that. If you don't then don't use acne products for the occasional break out. Your skin will just dry out. Kiehls has some great products. You can get products for your skin at www.kiehls.com. If you want to save some cash get Aveeno stuff from the drug store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Primer. Primer evens our your skin surface and smothes it out. It's like spackle.&lt;br /&gt;If you have a good foundation, you'll just compromise it's quality by not using a primer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Foundation. if you realy need it pick a shade that matches or is a shade darker. Also buy sponges to spread. This could help blur out the line of demarcation. Like when your face is one color and your neck starts another color. It isn't cute. Also try using mineral make up. Like Bare Esscentals or Mineral Fusion(this is cheaper and can be found at Whole Foods or Whole body). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Bronzer. Don't go too bronze. Just a little for a glowing effect. Physician's Formula makes some good bronzers and so do the Mineral products I mentioned above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Lips. Take a dry tooth brush and rub them on yor lips. It takes off dead cells and makes them look better. Also try using a pinkish lip stick. Red is okay if you can pull it off and don't plan on wearing any bright shadows. Stay away from oranges. They make your teeth look yellow. Don't use plumpers that are too powerful. they'll make your lips look gross and windburned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Eyeshadow. Use a lighter shade under the brow and on lids. Then use a darker blendable shae in the crease. This creates a smokey effect. Urban Decay and Benefit make some amazing shadows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Mascara. It's always good to use a mascara that isn't old becuase you will have clumps. Just throw it out when it gets chinky. Also check if the mascar you use has bat poop. because that is gross. Also use a curler. If your lshes are already long and curly. Still use one. They can never be too amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Eyeliner. Use it on the top corners of your eye lids. There are very few people who pull off the whole top and bottom lid. the corners open your eye. All the lid will make them look beady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the basics. Don't forget to blend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-4802507096724991833?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/4802507096724991833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=4802507096724991833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4802507096724991833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4802507096724991833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/08/make-up-techniques-for-busy-ladies.html' title='Make Up Techniques for the Busy Ladies.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-4719376081884493480</id><published>2008-07-30T19:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T13:37:12.701-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter elizabethboom'/><title type='text'>Twitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVKrgA8N1DI/AAAAAAAAAJw/4smyd1UIdy0/s1600-h/n1510080154_30068805_2889.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVKrgA8N1DI/AAAAAAAAAJw/4smyd1UIdy0/s320/n1510080154_30068805_2889.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283473879355741234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Guys! It's been a long time. If you want to keep up I am now on twitter. http://www.twitter.com/elizabethboom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-4719376081884493480?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/4719376081884493480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=4719376081884493480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4719376081884493480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4719376081884493480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/07/twitter.html' title='Twitter'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVKrgA8N1DI/AAAAAAAAAJw/4smyd1UIdy0/s72-c/n1510080154_30068805_2889.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-577490634036862598</id><published>2008-04-27T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T11:29:17.492-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finals art'/><title type='text'>Finals...</title><content type='html'>I have three tomorrow, my last one Wednesday, and had two on Friday. I've been drowning in tests and bubble sheets. I had insomnia last night and did nothing. I took a sleeping pill, and promised my self that I wouldn't take a three hour nap today. It kind of sucks that the semester is over. Yeah, I'll be back in the fall. But, some of the friends I have now won't be back in the fall. I also feel like I've wasted a lot of my time thinking I wanted to be a comm major. I would probably have a better GPA this semester if i didn't take broadcast ops. That class was a rude awakening that I guess I needed in order to get out. Next semester I have 2 studio art classes. That should be fun. I hope all my aspirations that come with being an art major can happen. If it doesn't I'll be kind of screwed and poor. I don't want to be an art teacher. I hate explaining things. It also doesn't pay enough. Kids are also evil in groups. All ages too, even high school. I'd rather invest money in an art studio in a big city and risk it all. I know I'm not going to regurgitate styles from Picasso or Van Gogh. I'm going to have my own. So, it should be worth something. I also want to work in several different medias. I need to study for finals first...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-577490634036862598?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/577490634036862598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=577490634036862598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/577490634036862598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/577490634036862598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/04/finals.html' title='Finals...'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7449928743578101093</id><published>2008-04-06T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:43:45.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Changing Majors.</title><content type='html'>Mass Communications hasn't been working for me. It isn't fun for me and it just makes me miserable. I don't really care for it anymore. the idea of getting up every morning before the sun does to make bank just sounds depressing. So I'm changing to Art? Why Art? I have an appreciation for it and have the mind for it. I spent most of high school doodling over my notes and had some of the better pieces in my art classes. I just never saw the occupation as being practical? But, now I don't care. I just want to do something that will make me happy. Having an art studio in the basement of my house to work in will make me happy. I just want to make something beautiful instead of feeding people canned journalism. The whole senate thing doesn't seem like fun either. It's not going to be like SGA was. I'm also totally going to Georgia after next year. I need to start looking at schools.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7449928743578101093?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7449928743578101093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7449928743578101093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7449928743578101093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7449928743578101093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/04/changing-majors.html' title='Changing Majors.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-3039939189620561406</id><published>2008-03-27T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T07:22:07.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Over.</title><content type='html'>I just got out of spending 4 months liking someone who wasn't worth it. I think I knew in the back of my mind the whole time when I used the excuse, "You can't help who you like." He wasn't like all the clean cut boys I'd liked before. I thought maybe I was special. But, maybe I was just digging through the garbage after being single so long.   He was an asshole, but he made me laugh. I did have fun with him too. It was kind of like a tie dye phase. It's fun and cool, but has and end. Only trashy people pretend it doesn't. I'm not trashy. Where am I going with this? Anyways it's over. I could have made many more mistakes that wasting precious time that could have been used on school work or sleeping. I felt and looked like a zombie yesterday. Maybe because I was a little hung over. But still... When it was finally over, I was relieved. I was out of the torturous cycle. I could have thew opportunity to wear something nicer than tie dye. But, at the same time it's hard to let go. I missed the idea of him and having someone to kick it with. But, I don't miss him. I just need to come up with better ideas. I looked in the mirror today as I was getting ready. I was happy that I could still look at myself. I was also glad that I was not other side. I'm not a phase at all, I am a classic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-3039939189620561406?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/3039939189620561406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=3039939189620561406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/3039939189620561406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/3039939189620561406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-over.html' title='It&apos;s Over.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-5452955267661411934</id><published>2008-03-26T18:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T18:15:52.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to reacess</title><content type='html'>I have been doing a lot of thinking lately and I need to reorganize my life. I can't be slacking in my classes at all and figure out what it is that I want out of life. I know I am not going to be in this small town forever. I don't want to be. I also want to live a quality life. First I need to work harder in school. I show up and turn stuff in. But, I've been procrastinating. I'm not going to not study for any one. It's my life in the end. I have to deal with the consequences. I also don't want to be at my school for my senior year. My mom and her boyfriend are moving to Georgia and I'll just go to a school over there and be with them. I can also find work at the country club. There is a lot in Georgia for me to do with Broadcasting. The CNN center isn't too far away and probably has some good internships. I have my head back on and a big opportunities ahead of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-5452955267661411934?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/5452955267661411934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=5452955267661411934' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/5452955267661411934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/5452955267661411934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/03/time-to-reacess.html' title='Time to reacess'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-2712524827219541975</id><published>2008-03-05T13:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T14:07:07.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastination Nation</title><content type='html'>I have only read 3 chapters in a book I need to have a review ready for at 8 a.m. Monday. I still haven't even gotten through my study guide or studied for a test I have Monday. Might I mention this is my second time in that class? I should be thanking my teacher for having a guide this time around; instead of kicking the work aside. I also have to know about connectors, RGBs, and studio lights for broadcast ops. Oh... almost forgot about that play by play that is due before Monday. &lt;br /&gt;I just feel so tired lately. From nothing. Also very disinterested in school work that is supposed to be my number 1 priority.&lt;br /&gt;What have I been doing, you might ask...&lt;br /&gt;I made lemonade from scratch. &lt;br /&gt;Downloaded 54 songs.&lt;br /&gt;Watched 2 episodes of Cashmere Mafia today.&lt;br /&gt;Made Strawberry Muffins filled with Nutella.&lt;br /&gt;Polished all the furniture in the house.&lt;br /&gt;Dusted.&lt;br /&gt;Cleaned and organized my Mom's room to show her that I love her.&lt;br /&gt;Organized my closet.&lt;br /&gt;tried the vacuum Louise gave me.&lt;br /&gt;checked the mail. &lt;br /&gt;did laundry that wasn't mine.&lt;br /&gt;found a quarter.&lt;br /&gt;a 3rd of my government study guide.&lt;br /&gt;wrote this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go on and do things. I have too much time on my hands to not be doing work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-2712524827219541975?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/2712524827219541975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=2712524827219541975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2712524827219541975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2712524827219541975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/03/procrastination-nation.html' title='Procrastination Nation'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-9135752337982055273</id><published>2008-03-02T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T18:55:34.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Break Playlist</title><content type='html'>1. Alone Again(naturally)- Guilbert O'Sullivan&lt;br /&gt;2. Mississippi Mud- Hank III&lt;br /&gt;3. Smoke &amp; Mirrors- RJD2&lt;br /&gt;4. Breakadawn- De La Soul&lt;br /&gt;5. I'm Not In Love- 10cc&lt;br /&gt;6. Tired Of Being Alone- Al Green&lt;br /&gt;7. Bankrupt On Selling- Modest Mouse&lt;br /&gt;8. Dirty Trip- Air&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-9135752337982055273?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/9135752337982055273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=9135752337982055273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/9135752337982055273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/9135752337982055273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/03/spring-break-playlist.html' title='Spring Break Playlist'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-4794495449163205853</id><published>2008-02-25T15:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T15:39:12.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>I've noticed a lot of changes this semester vs. the past few. Having fun has moved up the priority list and things that used to seem important aren't quite so important anymore. Making appearances that the big frat parties and mixers fall into that category. My priorities are now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. School (always will be)&lt;br /&gt;2. having fun&lt;br /&gt;3. being healthy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School has been crazy. There is so much going on this week. Baah... Midterms. I think I'll do okay. I just have to keep my shit together... and keep fun number 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be really compulsive... well I still kind of am. well, I'm not as compulsive and having fun is important. Stressing isn't cool. I'm also not part of any extra clubs this semester. I don't have time for that. It's annoying when you have 18 hours of school and homework. It isn't much fun either. I don't need any clubs. I'll be in senate again next semester. That actually is fun. But, most of our E.C. is graduating. I didn't miss a meeting last semester and I dressed up. I need to come up with some passable legislation ideas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being healthy is important too. I eat well to make up for my lack of exercise. That is also something that takes time and isn't fun. It's also hard to be motivated when you have a perfect body frame. I'm not trying to look muscular. It's also important to be mentally healthy, like taking naps or study breaks. School is so draining. I feel like a zombie sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring Break is next week. I am not doing anything special. Just resting. I really need to chill out. I also need to study.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-4794495449163205853?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/4794495449163205853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=4794495449163205853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4794495449163205853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4794495449163205853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/02/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-5623003685158121440</id><published>2008-02-15T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T17:26:02.185-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='google search history'/><title type='text'>Google Search History: F-Z</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;F&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;facebook&lt;br /&gt;factory girl&lt;br /&gt;funny&lt;br /&gt;funny cat videos funny cats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;G&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;golf&lt;br /&gt;google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hannah montana&lt;br /&gt;harry enfield&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hearst castle&lt;br /&gt;heart will go on&lt;br /&gt;heath ledger bob dylan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not there soundtrack&lt;br /&gt;in da club&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jcrew&lt;br /&gt;joel stein&lt;br /&gt;john lennon&lt;br /&gt;jonathan safran foer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;K&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kelly osbourne (heard she got a make over)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lab&lt;br /&gt;lacoste&lt;br /&gt;leave britney alone&lt;br /&gt;lisa loeb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mold&lt;br /&gt;ms. swan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;N&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nashville&lt;br /&gt;natalie imbruglia&lt;br /&gt;new kelly osborne&lt;br /&gt;notting hill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;obama rally&lt;br /&gt;oregon trail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part time model flight of concords&lt;br /&gt;patrick dempsey&lt;br /&gt;president hall&lt;br /&gt;pruny finger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;qualifications for U.S. Senate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;red cross&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SGA&lt;br /&gt;school uniform&lt;br /&gt;stain remover for marker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the odyssey&lt;br /&gt;the ten&lt;br /&gt;the virgin suicides&lt;br /&gt;thomas allen art&lt;br /&gt;tila tequila shot at love episodes&lt;br /&gt;to kill a mockingbird&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;U&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U.S. Senate benefits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vinatge housekeeping&lt;br /&gt;virgin suicides&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weather weenie&lt;br /&gt;woody allen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yusef Islam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Z&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-5623003685158121440?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/5623003685158121440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=5623003685158121440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/5623003685158121440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/5623003685158121440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/02/google-search-history-f-z.html' title='Google Search History: F-Z'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-2797739186459493175</id><published>2008-02-10T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T15:10:36.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Google Search history</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a blog a day&lt;br /&gt;a shot at love&lt;br /&gt;a day in the life Elizabeth boom&lt;br /&gt;a painting a day&lt;br /&gt;alpha female&lt;br /&gt;american red cross&lt;br /&gt;amy sedaris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;band aid white pruny finger&lt;br /&gt;baptizm&lt;br /&gt;blogspot code&lt;br /&gt;bob dylan&lt;br /&gt;bob dylan lyrics&lt;br /&gt;bob dylan harmonica tabs&lt;br /&gt;bob dylan quotes&lt;br /&gt;bob dylan ryman&lt;br /&gt;bob dylan sightings (obsessed?)&lt;br /&gt;boil&lt;br /&gt;boils&lt;br /&gt;bonnaroo 08&lt;br /&gt;bonnaroo 08 artists&lt;br /&gt;boyle&lt;br /&gt;boyles&lt;br /&gt;Britney Spears VMA&lt;br /&gt;Brocante home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cathedral synopsis&lt;br /&gt;claw money&lt;br /&gt;cliffs notes&lt;br /&gt;clubbing&lt;br /&gt;cocktail dress&lt;br /&gt;coral reef dreaming&lt;br /&gt;coral sea dreaming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dating behavior warning signs&lt;br /&gt;David Allen Coe&lt;br /&gt;Degas&lt;br /&gt;Desperate Housewives wallpapers&lt;br /&gt;dog breeds&lt;br /&gt;dogs&lt;br /&gt;domestic violence warning signs&lt;br /&gt;donating blood&lt;br /&gt;Duane Keiser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;easy rider&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth Boom&lt;br /&gt;elo all over the world&lt;br /&gt;entj&lt;br /&gt;espnu&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-2797739186459493175?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/2797739186459493175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=2797739186459493175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2797739186459493175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2797739186459493175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-google-search-history.html' title='My Google Search history'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-1862614993517365241</id><published>2008-02-06T17:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:58:48.215-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pap'/><title type='text'>O.B.G.Y.N. My Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.m-e-dical.com/english/pix/vs5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.m-e-dical.com/english/pix/vs5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a big day for me. No, I didn't get a pap. But I accompanied someone who was. I figured I'd go for moral support and see what really goes on in there horrifying visits. I was very nervous. Someday I will be in the piece of paper gown... spread eagle. I had my legs crossed the whole time and thought I was going to cry. But, I didn't. After leaving I felt a little better and some what mentally prepared for when my day comes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-1862614993517365241?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/1862614993517365241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=1862614993517365241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1862614993517365241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1862614993517365241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/02/obgyn-my-friend.html' title='O.B.G.Y.N. My Friend'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-1601278394986934723</id><published>2008-01-27T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T16:40:01.657-08:00</updated><title type='text'>life.</title><content type='html'>The last blog was pretty intense. But, I'm feeling better now. Like waking up after a horrible nightmare. I had no idea what to do. The best thing is hanging out with friends and talking about it. It will never go away the other way around. Everything will resolve its self. Sometimes you want to give up, but you have to keep fighting. Get through things. It will be wonderful when it's over. Everything will be the way it was supposed to. Bad things happen for a good reason sometimes. To make one stronger. You also have to get through the bad to get to the good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-1601278394986934723?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/1601278394986934723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=1601278394986934723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1601278394986934723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1601278394986934723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/01/life.html' title='life.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-6096980498111606003</id><published>2008-01-26T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T11:35:55.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Barriers</title><content type='html'>Life has been crazy lately. The weird part is that I haven't been trying to contribute to it. Most people who are vexed in situations walk in to them knowing that it will probably happen. they are bored and want a little entertainment. I don't like situational entertainment, as funny as it can be. I don't feel strongly about anything this semester. Except for my grades of course. I don't have much time to spare. Most the guys that like me are either assholes or annoying. I can't think of even one person I'd even want to go to formal with. If I even go to formal, I don't even feel like dishing out for a cool dress. I started off with the idea of getting a black Betsey Johnson party dress and had a list of people I'd consider going with. None of it seems appealing or important anymore. I'm more of a realist now, than an optimist. Listening to Elliott Smith doesn't make it much better either. Perception isn't reality. Reality is reality. Perception is blinding. Believing the false. I'm not a shiny robot that vomits sunshine anymore. I'm human. My friend heard me cry at 10 a.m. this morning. It was the first time and I never cry. She realized that I do have a heart. I don't want one. It's a weakness and I see it as a flaw. I don't want to be able to express emotion. I want to be like the Greek statues. They look calm and in control. While I'm feeling like the Hellenistic period inside. I also hate that I care so much about what everyone thinks. It's important for me to be perfect. That's stupid. There's no such thing. I have no logic. How's that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-6096980498111606003?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/6096980498111606003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=6096980498111606003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/6096980498111606003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/6096980498111606003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/01/breaking-barriers.html' title='Breaking Barriers'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7510440137501907350</id><published>2008-01-24T15:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T15:13:01.224-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music therapy harmonica'/><title type='text'>Music Therapy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/bobdylan/images/bob27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/bobdylan/images/bob27.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today should be a bad day. My English teacher gave me an insane quiz, there weren't any hours available for me at the Hispanic Cultural Center(so I'm still an unemployed American), someone made me feel awkward, I don't have my phone, but I'm alright. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was finishing up my sports broadcasting paper, I started feeling the way I did when I was on that allergy medicine. There was even a little bit of hate in my heart. I was bitter. Then I went to the broadcasting studio, that was empty. Recording starts next week. So, I killed an hour and a half playing my harmonica in the practice rooms. I learned some new stuff. It didn't even feel that long. I thought maybe half an hour had passed. Once I left the room I felt okay again. Like nothing is happening and nothing is going on. Why stress over something I have no control over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fixed myself up this morning and had my eyes to the sky. Today crumbled on me and I'm playing in the rubble. Life isn't perfect. It's more fun that way. I'm not a robot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7510440137501907350?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7510440137501907350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7510440137501907350' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7510440137501907350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7510440137501907350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/01/music-therapy.html' title='Music Therapy'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-2987226644759671836</id><published>2008-01-18T17:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T17:19:54.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Depression Hurts.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so you guys are going to think I'm totally lame. But, I started off this semester with depression. I had no idea. I had trouble sleeping, haven't been as social, have been feeling anxious, guilty, and worried. This should be an amazing semester. I have incredible friends, a new found love(harmonica), and an awesome schedule. Did I mention that my resolution from last semester has been put into action? I found the root cause to my depression. It was a side effect from allergy pills. I'd rather let my sinuses suffer and be back to my laid back optimistic self. I noticed it getting really bad last night when I ran out on a date and then today when I was paranoid in my classes. I could hardly take notes. Now I'm trying to boost my seratonin. Listening to music, cleaning, blogging, and maybe I'll get some chocolate. I just talked to my mom. Nothing is more comforting than her voice. I also emailed my Dad who is in Iraq twice. Not updating him eats me alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-2987226644759671836?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/2987226644759671836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=2987226644759671836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2987226644759671836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2987226644759671836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/01/depression-hurts.html' title='Depression Hurts.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-6444443072182934754</id><published>2008-01-10T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T17:31:42.515-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring playlist'/><title type='text'>Spring Semester Playlist</title><content type='html'>1. Love Today- MIKA&lt;br /&gt;2. Here Comes My Baby- Cat Stevens&lt;br /&gt;3. Lullaby- Shawn Mullins&lt;br /&gt;4. Dreams- The Cranberries&lt;br /&gt;5. Turn On Me- The Shins&lt;br /&gt;6. You Know So Well- Sondre Lerche&lt;br /&gt;7. Dear Prudence- Sean Lennon&lt;br /&gt;8. Something Pretty- Patrick Park&lt;br /&gt;9. Heart of Gold- Niel Young&lt;br /&gt;10.Nobody Told Me- John Lennon&lt;br /&gt;11.Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want- The Smiths&lt;br /&gt;12.I Never- Rilo Kiley&lt;br /&gt;13.Linger- The Cranberries&lt;br /&gt;14.Valentine- The Get Up Kids&lt;br /&gt;15.Jenny, You're Barely Alive- Rilo Kiley&lt;br /&gt;16.If You Leave- O.M.D.&lt;br /&gt;17.No Such Thing- John Mayer&lt;br /&gt;18.Man of Constant Sorrow- Bob Dylan&lt;br /&gt;19.We are Nowhere and It's Now- Bright Eyes&lt;br /&gt;20.My Own Worst Enemy- Lit&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-6444443072182934754?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/6444443072182934754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=6444443072182934754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/6444443072182934754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/6444443072182934754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/01/spring-semester-playlist.html' title='Spring Semester Playlist'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-3928797092427313305</id><published>2008-01-10T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T14:24:52.512-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cashmere mafia'/><title type='text'>Cashmere Mafia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.news.com.au/common/imagedata/0,,5504754,00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.news.com.au/common/imagedata/0,,5504754,00.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night I tuned in to watch Cashmere Mafia. It was not a show about a female mob like I had hoped. Yet, it was still amazing. It's a show about 4 women in New York who hold powerful positions in the work place. It opens up as kind of a female dream. Overcoming the struggle. Being sexy, rich, and powerful. The main character Mia(Lucy Liu) gets engaged. Well, she and her boyfriend work together and are competing for a big position and the loser gets dropped. Juliet seems happily married to her hot husband Davis and seems happy with their "sex schedule"... later finds out he is sleeping with a women in their neighborhood. Juliet later tells him at a social gathering that she knows and that she'll be taking a lover. Mia finds out that she got the job and her ego-bruised man breaks the engagement. It's new night is Wednesday at 9pm on ABC.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-3928797092427313305?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/3928797092427313305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=3928797092427313305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/3928797092427313305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/3928797092427313305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/01/cashmere-mafia.html' title='Cashmere Mafia'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-1575353282647207547</id><published>2008-01-06T07:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T08:06:03.228-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='haircut breakdown housewives'/><title type='text'>yeah</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't blogged everyday. But, I can have only so many resolutions and blogging isn't that important. So I'm dropping this one. There isn't much going on. School starts next week and I finally found out my grades. They were amazing. I am getting my hair cut today because I have been neglecting it. I want to get it cut like this.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.superchismosa.com/wp-content/photos/mischabarton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.superchismosa.com/wp-content/photos/mischabarton.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My hair is way too long and this is long enough to work for me. Or I might go for something more like this.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y78/ChadFinn/0eebce7d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y78/ChadFinn/0eebce7d.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Either way it will be more manageable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, how about that Britney Spears breakdown? My mom keeps making excuses for her. I know that she didn't get to have that much fun growing up or whatever, but she's 26 and has 2 kids. She needs to change her idea of fun or get a nanny. She also keeps blaming stuff on the paparazzi. Paris Hilton has been under that light all her life and she turned out fine... compared to Britney. Justin is lucky he gotta out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desperate Housewives tonight. Brand new episode. Yay. Also a new series. Cashmere Mafia. It looks like it will be one of my shows too. Sunday nights on ABC is where it's at. I hate that Greys comes on at the same time as The Office. I also haven't seen 2 and a half Men in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-1575353282647207547?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/1575353282647207547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=1575353282647207547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1575353282647207547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1575353282647207547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/01/yeah.html' title='yeah'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7497252434829421520</id><published>2008-01-01T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T18:11:55.076-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='harmonica'/><title type='text'>Bending Notes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.cypress.ne.jp/kouchi/image/dylan-harmonica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.cypress.ne.jp/kouchi/image/dylan-harmonica.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I have been following up on one New Years resolution. The harmonica. I love it. Today I taught myself how to play Heart of Gold, Piano Man, and Tears in Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;I played for hours. It didn't even seem like a chore. I think I have a new hobby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7497252434829421520?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7497252434829421520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7497252434829421520' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7497252434829421520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7497252434829421520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2008/01/bending-notes.html' title='Bending Notes'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-4719746776897276453</id><published>2007-12-31T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T21:28:52.759-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rockin eve seacrest dick clark harmonica harvest'/><title type='text'>Rockin' Eve</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://weblogs.newsday.com/entertainment/tv/blog/dickclark200607blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://weblogs.newsday.com/entertainment/tv/blog/dickclark200607blog.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I have to say it's not much of a rockin' eve if you are watching Rockin' Eve with Ryan Seacrest. So far I've had a good New Years. Hanging out with the family. Kicking butt in Taboo. I also got a harmonica today. I can already hold it right and blow single notes (using the pucker method). I want to get good, so I can play for money in public areas. First I'll learn some rhythms, so I can showboat it till I learn some Dylan and Young. I want to play:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heart of Gold... well the whole Neil Young Harvest Album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These Dylan songs:&lt;br /&gt;I Want You&lt;br /&gt;Man of Constant Sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Don't Think Twice, It's Alright&lt;br /&gt;Tangled Up in Blue&lt;br /&gt;I Don't Believe You(She Acts Like We Never Have Met)&lt;br /&gt;Just Like A Woman&lt;br /&gt;Catch the Wind&lt;br /&gt;Hurricane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm planning on getting a Dylan Harmonica music book from Amazon. So my first New Year's Resolution is to spen 08 sharpening my harmonica skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also going to blog here every day like I promised. unless I have a valid excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then theres the All A's resolution. No B's this time. Just A's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exercise so if I get the camping job I can hike without whining. I can hike. I just haven't worked out in a while. I also want to climb the top of the rock wall in the fitness center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I want to become more fiscally responsible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a Rockin'Eve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-4719746776897276453?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/4719746776897276453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=4719746776897276453' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4719746776897276453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4719746776897276453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/12/rockin-eve.html' title='Rockin&apos; Eve'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7309584251668525442</id><published>2007-12-30T10:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T10:36:48.075-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage pregnancy'/><title type='text'>Marriage?!</title><content type='html'>At this age I still think of marriage as something you do when you grow up(fiscally) or that might happen someday. I am almost 20 years old and it hasn't occurred to me that it isn't completely weird that some of my friends are getting married and some of them have already have kids. Oh yes, I too can get married. It's also difficult for me to relate with people who are going through marriage or have kids because it's not something you can completely understand from speculation. I've never been in love, so I don't understand why people get excited about being married early in life. I also have issues reacting to people being pregnant. It's always seemed like a negative thing. Someone could be happy about and I wouldn't want to be the one to say, "Oh, that's horrible." I also feel young and old at the same time. I feel young because I'm not going through any of it. Then old because people my age and younger are. Britney Spear's little sister is pregnant and she's 15. All I have to say is &lt;i&gt;The times they are a'changin'...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7309584251668525442?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7309584251668525442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7309584251668525442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7309584251668525442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7309584251668525442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/12/marriage.html' title='Marriage?!'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-8232378435403233330</id><published>2007-12-28T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T19:57:28.373-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='till the new year 08'/><title type='text'>Filling you in.</title><content type='html'>Dear Faithful Readers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry that I don't write in my daily blog... daily. You may not believe me but I have things to do too. Like being sick. I have Bronchitis and will be finished with antibiotics in 2 days. I thought only smokers got bronchitis. This is besides the point. I have downloaded some news songs. I feel that I should let you know which songs and why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a few songs from John Lennon(The Plastic Ono Band)'s &lt;i&gt;Shaved Fish&lt;/i&gt; album. Because I got the original record for Christmas. My Big sister is amazing. I previously almost had all the songs except:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever Gets You Through the Night&lt;br /&gt;Cold Turkey&lt;br /&gt;&amp; Number 9 Dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also downloading some Christmas songs by Frank Sinatra earlier and treated myself to "Come Fly With Me". It's a classic. I will probably put it on a mix for my Big sister when she goes back to Indianapolis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around Christmas I downloaded "Little Saint Nick" by The Beach Boys because it's in the Coke commercial with the penguins and polar bears. That commercial brainwashed me into drinking Coke instead of coffee during the holidays and into getting the song. Now I have to go back to my Pepsi only school. I hate Pepsi and know the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next one is kind of embarrassing. I downloaded "Ready, Set, Don't Go" By Billy Ray and Miley Cyrus. Whatever, It's a good song. And I only know because of Oprah...&lt;br /&gt;Hey! At least, I don't read the same books or I pick off the O sticker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next one is "King of the Rodeo" by Kings of Leon. They're from Nashville. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone downloaded "Another Night" by Real McCoy. It was not me. It's a cheesy 90s dance song that everyone would remember if they looked it up. Please look into it. I also hope your speakers are on and someone is in the room when you do it. They might worry about you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. What else. I got a flat Ocean water from Sonic the other day and it was too late to exchange by the time I sipped it. I really want another one to make up for that one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned that your organs and brain will not cook themselves if you have a fever and don't make yourself cold. It's an old wives tale. Thank you Google. I am also living proof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be amazing if Barack Obama ran with John Edwards...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I'm done with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till the New Year... 2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-8232378435403233330?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/8232378435403233330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=8232378435403233330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/8232378435403233330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/8232378435403233330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/12/filling-you-in.html' title='Filling you in.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7160331654054851133</id><published>2007-12-16T00:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T18:13:46.795-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ayo leaf'/><title type='text'>50.</title><content type='html'>After taking an oath to provide my meta-audience with a daily blog, I got "too busy" to blog every day. So I figure my New Year's resolution will be to pick the blog back up in full force. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see... A lot has gone on. I'm done with my first semester as a Sophomore. I am taking 18 hours next semester. All my classes are at 8 and 9 in the morning... which means I need to be up at least an hour in advance. I'm going to have to figure out a caffeine or sleeping situation. Because I need to be up before then and actually get ready. Most of them are back to back till 2pm. I ca not afford to cheat and wear pj's or sweats to class and be stuck that way. I'll look like a crack head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally dyed my hair back to dark brown. It had reddish tones from the sun. Now I look normal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I want to be a camp counselor this summer in the Redwoods. So far things are working out. No dead ends. It will help me out very much fiscally and i will get to travel. Plus I will get to do something I love. I have always wanted to be a camp counselor. It will be almost 2 months. The camp has a conservative dress code, so I'll be fine because I don't dress tastelessly. I really want to teach Arts &amp; Crafts. I could teach kids how to make a bird house out of Popsicle sticks, send a message in a bottle, make a hand turkey, or make a crayon relief of a leaf.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7160331654054851133?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7160331654054851133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7160331654054851133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7160331654054851133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7160331654054851133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/12/50.html' title='50.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-8073237954215276109</id><published>2007-11-28T18:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:49:07.264-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blood drive american red cross'/><title type='text'>Blood Giving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/R3RcDvIKKnI/AAAAAAAAAFo/iLMvHO5MK70/s1600-h/l_d685557c0233a5165c21ea57d898b02a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/R3RcDvIKKnI/AAAAAAAAAFo/iLMvHO5MK70/s320/l_d685557c0233a5165c21ea57d898b02a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148841493251369586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most of my life I did not understand why people wanted to give blood. I thought of it as involving needles and not fun. Who needs to give blood when other people do? I've been making excuses since senior year. I though class was more appealing than exchanging blood for a shirt and a coke. Today I got tired of talking and just gave it. I looked at the forms and found out that I am eligible. Then remembered that because I am O; anyone can use my blood. I got my finger pricked which stung like a bee. But the pain numbed it. Then the lady squeezed some blood out to check for anemia. I didn't really care. I guess that was the worst of it. Then I sat and waited. I didn't hesitate while getting up and let my nurse do her thing. Right before I did have a look of horror on my face. It was already in and I was pumping. But, apparently too hard so they made me roll the stress ball. I rolled and rolled watched my purpley crimson blood flow through the cord into the bag. When it was full I made them come back so they won't mooch extra blood. I had survived and it wasn't a big deal. I applied pressure and raised my arm. Then they wrapped me up, gave me a sticker, brownie, and a coke. I didn't cry, freak out, or start rambling. It wasn't a big deal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-8073237954215276109?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/8073237954215276109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=8073237954215276109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/8073237954215276109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/8073237954215276109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/11/blood-giving.html' title='Blood Giving'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/R3RcDvIKKnI/AAAAAAAAAFo/iLMvHO5MK70/s72-c/l_d685557c0233a5165c21ea57d898b02a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-6653160743951513861</id><published>2007-11-10T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T14:02:27.818-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clubbing night life'/><title type='text'>In Da Club</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ams.ubc.ca/clubs/smc/SMC%20Event%20Pictures%20-%20Resized%20-%20Clubbing%20Night%202006/SMC%20Clubbing%20Night%202006%2005r.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.ams.ubc.ca/clubs/smc/SMC%20Event%20Pictures%20-%20Resized%20-%20Clubbing%20Night%202006/SMC%20Clubbing%20Night%202006%2005r.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night I went clubbing for the first time. It being Friday with nothing to do. Why not? The first obstacle was getting dressed. It took my friends and I at least an hour and a half. I think getting primped was the most fun. Then we bumped our way down to Cashville. While walking down to the club one of our girls started talking to these random guys and it was creepy. Rule number 1: Don't tell strangers your real name and where you are actually from? That should stay confidential until you are interested. We didn't even need his money because it was free, so we scurried away from them when we got inside. I had to pay $6 dollars to take of my coat and cardigan. It should have been $3 but the lady peeled them apart and called it two. I felt ripped off for a while, but shook it off. Then we met this random guy who was pretty much a connoisseur of the night life there. It was crowded and there were some shadies and some skankies there. We were on the dance floor for a bit and this random 40 year old Indian guy was standing on it, not even swaying. and well staring at girls dance. it was creepy. I danced with this guy named George most of the time. He was gorgeous, but didn't have very much of a personality. I'm not a shallow person. I care about inside as much as the outside. He also complained about these guys butchering a Shaggy song and got pissed about it. Who listens to Shaggy?&lt;br /&gt;It was crowded and felt like a cesspool of bacteria and STDs. Was not my scene at all. I'm not interested in going clubbing much more at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-6653160743951513861?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/6653160743951513861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=6653160743951513861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/6653160743951513861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/6653160743951513861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/11/in-da-club.html' title='In Da Club'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-1186003116104136147</id><published>2007-11-03T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T11:48:56.977-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whole foods'/><title type='text'>My picks from the new Whole Foods in Green Hills</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.wirednewyork.com/aol/images/whole_foods_columbus_5feb04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.wirednewyork.com/aol/images/whole_foods_columbus_5feb04.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Lucky Karma Beads (I got the tigers eye ones which means "balance")&lt;br /&gt;2. function Braniac carambola punch (boosts memory and mental sharpness with Soy PS, Zinc, Ginko Bilboa, and even more powerful antioxidants.)&lt;br /&gt;3. Belle Chevre Goat Cheese logs.&lt;br /&gt;4. Nutri STARS multi-vitamins.&lt;br /&gt;5. Banana Split rolled oates cookies. (amazing!)&lt;br /&gt;6. Mineral fusion make up.&lt;br /&gt;7. Real Simple magazine.&lt;br /&gt;8. Trout dip.&lt;br /&gt;9. New England Clam Chowder.&lt;br /&gt;10. Blue Cheese straws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new Whole Foods store is banging and a great place to have lunch. Their cafe has a stage with live music and they have a cooking school upstairs. They have several dining options inside and everything is well priced enough for the quality. The presentation is nice enough to consider a run to the grocery store a date.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-1186003116104136147?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/1186003116104136147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=1186003116104136147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1186003116104136147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1186003116104136147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-picks-from-new-whole-foods-in-green.html' title='My picks from the new Whole Foods in Green Hills'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-4655567418723018112</id><published>2007-10-27T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T18:37:51.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>check yourself.</title><content type='html'>serious chain mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The MESSAGE: &lt;br /&gt; 1. ALWAYS lock your car doors, even if you're gone for just a second! &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 2. Check underneath your car when approaching it for reentry, and check &lt;br /&gt; in the back before getting in. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; 3. general vicinity, particularly at night! &lt;br /&gt; IMPORTANT PLEASE READ , THIS IS HAPPENING AGAIN!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure everyone has seen this, but they are doing this again. A &lt;br /&gt;friend stopped at a pay-at-the-pump gas station to get gas. Once she filled her &lt;br /&gt;gas tank and after paying at the pump and starting to leave, the voice of &lt;br /&gt;the attendant inside came over the speaker. He told her that something  happened with her card and that she needed to come inside to pay. The &lt;br /&gt;lady was confused because the transaction showed complete and approved. She relayed that to him and was getting ready to leave but the attendant, once again, urged her to come in to pay or there'd be trouble. She proceeded to go inside and started arguing with the attendant about his threat. He told her to calm down and listen carefully: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said that while she was pumping gas, a guy slipped into the back seat &lt;br /&gt;of her car on the other side and the attendant had already called the &lt;br /&gt;police. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; She became frightened and looked out in time to see her car door open and the guy slip out. The report is that the new gang initiation thing is to bring back a woman and/or her car.. One way they are doing this is crawling under women's cars while they're pumping gas or at grocery stores in the nighttime. The other way is slipping into unattended cars and kidnapping the women. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Please pass this on to other women, young and old alike. Be extra careful &lt;br /&gt;going to and from your car at night. If at all possible, don't go alone! &lt;br /&gt;This is real!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-4655567418723018112?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/4655567418723018112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=4655567418723018112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4655567418723018112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4655567418723018112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/oh-grandmother.html' title='check yourself.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-1557971378242848669</id><published>2007-10-27T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T14:00:31.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sorry.</title><content type='html'>I feel the need to apologize for my recent entries being a little choppy. I have been slacking lately. I don't have the most action packed life. So, I will pour myself into this blog and it may not make sense. But, it's a blog. It doesn't have to make sense, be grammatically correct, or completely factual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my stalker today in the Cafeteria and he was staring at me. But, since I was turned around I didn't have to worry about him getting sexually aroused at the sight of me eating an ice cream cone. But, yes he is still fulfilling his stalker duties. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am worried about Halloween. I haven't done costumes in years and not only am I wearing a costume... I'm wearing a skimpy one at that. All I know is I can't let myself drink to much in that outfit. I will get raped. It wouldn't be too hard either. I'm attending three parties and they are on three different days so that is a lot of action. I am also getting volunteer hours to hand out candy Sunday night on campus. No dressing up for that. A French maid costume is just a little inappropriate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In English class on Friday we had to rate peoples papers from best to worst. Well the papers had our names on them, so ratings can be biased. I ended up with a 4 on mine. I knew I wouldn't have a 1 because Brian Casner is an amazing writer. Yes, mine was rated the worst. I think it wasn't judged correctly. Mine was the right length, in MLA format, edited by my friend who is amazing, and was pretty mind blowing. I gave bad marks to the people who didn't write the three pages; because that is not fair. Then I gave bad marks to people who don't know MLA format in English 1020 because they are failures at life, and then I gave bad marks to people who use this as a thesis statement (This story is called "A Rose for Emily" and was Written by: William Faulkner.) Really? I had no clue. I honestly think the reason I got bad marks is because I'm a "bitch". I don't talk to people except the select few I was already friends with, the only person I'm nice to is those few and the teacher, and I mean mug people who ask stupid questions that hold us all in the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the girls in that class is crazy. I honestly think she has serious issues. She is extremely loud and talks about the nastiest things. If someone had already told her that we didn't want to hear it, she'd still go on and on and on. Then I found out that she lived in my building. I was in the lobby with my friends and we were having a conversation about what we want done with our bodies after we die and then I felt this little tap on my shoulder. "Hey, I didn't know you lived here, which room do you live in?" I honestly didn't want her to know because she is loud and I don't want her to try to knock and ask for a cup of sugar or dryer sheets. Then, I said,"I don't want you to know where I live." Then she said, "Want to hang out later?" and then I said, "I'll probably be busy." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, I was honest and she was in the group next to the one that marked mine. I'm sure she said something. Oh yes and did I mention that there were no comments or corrections on mine? After revising it again I realized that it was kind of sexist towards both sexes and that everyone in that class except for a select few that get me probably think I'm a bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-1557971378242848669?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/1557971378242848669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=1557971378242848669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1557971378242848669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1557971378242848669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m sorry.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-2156287987983861607</id><published>2007-10-26T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T20:19:15.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean Sweep</title><content type='html'>So I spent the majority of tonight cleaning my room. it was a disaster. i get too busy over the week to keep it up. It looks good and I am happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-2156287987983861607?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/2156287987983861607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=2156287987983861607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2156287987983861607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2156287987983861607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/clean-sweep.html' title='Clean Sweep'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-4025031813392768838</id><published>2007-10-25T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:49:07.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Recipe Society</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RyF6uBWPGAI/AAAAAAAAADY/T_GJ48j3l3I/s1600-h/1086524752_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RyF6uBWPGAI/AAAAAAAAADY/T_GJ48j3l3I/s320/1086524752_l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125512781978605570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to update my recipe website and you guys should check it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-4025031813392768838?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/4025031813392768838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=4025031813392768838' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4025031813392768838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4025031813392768838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/secret-recipe-society.html' title='Secret Recipe Society'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RyF6uBWPGAI/AAAAAAAAADY/T_GJ48j3l3I/s72-c/1086524752_l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-162731006282021501</id><published>2007-10-24T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T09:07:14.767-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress hopeless romantics'/><title type='text'>Hopeless Romantics... Know Your Place.</title><content type='html'>Hopeless Romantics are annoying enough. But, what is even more annoying is when they want to tamper with your love lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because I'm hanging out with a person who happens to be male, does not mean I am romantically interested. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are wondering... keep your thoughts to yourself or ask me when the person is long gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't talk about how pretty I am and ask him if he thinks I'm pretty. This only makes me feel worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't give the poor guy false hopes, when you don't know anything about my love life.&lt;br /&gt;(ex: I might be talking to someone, I might be gay, I might have an unofficial boyfriend, or I just might not be interested.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me if I'm interested, if the guy is right there. That will make me seem like a bitch if I say No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are normal social etiquette tips. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, don't do this to someone I'm in a professional organization with... that I can't avoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your help hopeless romantic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-162731006282021501?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/162731006282021501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=162731006282021501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/162731006282021501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/162731006282021501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/hopeless-romantics-know-your-place.html' title='Hopeless Romantics... Know Your Place.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-885994525160643108</id><published>2007-10-22T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T21:14:11.573-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rain'/><title type='text'>Rainy Days</title><content type='html'>It has been raining all day. I also played in the rain with Pumpkin and Phillip. I hope I don't get sick. Today was Caleb's birthday. We went out to dinner with him at Longhorns and I cut him a few lines on a bread plate with sugar. For someone who has only seen cocaine in the movies, I can cut a mean line. Katie Weiss was the best though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight Moon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-885994525160643108?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/885994525160643108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=885994525160643108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/885994525160643108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/885994525160643108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/rainy-days.html' title='Rainy Days'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-8741203271809218400</id><published>2007-10-20T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T22:13:43.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Treasure Hunt!</title><content type='html'>What I found cleaning my room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Social Security Card&lt;br /&gt; (Yay! I can get a job.)&lt;br /&gt;-Free Medium Fries game piece.&lt;br /&gt;-Fortune that says, "You have a charming&lt;br /&gt; way with words and should write a book."&lt;br /&gt;-$1.55 in silver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-8741203271809218400?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/8741203271809218400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=8741203271809218400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/8741203271809218400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/8741203271809218400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/treasure-hunt.html' title='Treasure Hunt!'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-4236390358890661183</id><published>2007-10-18T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T17:45:33.235-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decisive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='entj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='planner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fearless'/><title type='text'>I'm an ENTJ</title><content type='html'>ENTJs in Love&lt;br /&gt;ENTJs make aggressive, enthusiastic partners who take their commitments very seriously. As in other aspects of their life, they want to be the leader in the relationship, and take on responsibility for making things work. They are creative leaders, and are likely to have relationships which promote constant growth and learning. Since they are constantly scanning the environment for new ideas and things worth learning, the ENTJ may frequently re-define the "rules" of the relationship, although their commitment remains constant. If it becomes very clear to them that the relationship no longer offers any chance of growth or learning, the ENTJ will leave the situation, and not look back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romantically, the ENTJ is robust, imaginative and enthusiastic. Their natural instinct to lead will be apparent in this arena as well as other areas of life, and they will lead their partner on creative lovemaking adventures, where the focus is on mutual learning and affection sharing. They're likely to expect romance on a relatively scheduled basis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ENTJ does not usually have a problem with self-confidence and is not especially emotionally needy. Although they enjoy being told that they are loved and appreciated, they don't need to hear these types of avowals as often as most other types. If they are partnered with a Feeling type, they are probably not likely to fulfill their partner's needs for intimate words without conscious effort. Even with effort, the ENTJ may have problems being aware of other's emotional needs, and they most likely won't understand those needs even if they are aware of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In general, the ENTJ has a lot to offer to their intimate relationships. They're dedicated and enthusiastic, and willing to put forth a lot of effort to make things work out. They take on responsibility and accountability, and expect to be in charge. Their relationship will be one based on mutual respect, constant growth and development. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENTJs are natural born leaders. They live in a world of possibilities where they see all sorts challenges to be surmounted, and they want to be the ones responsible for surmounting them. They have a drive for leadership, which is well-served by their quickness to grasp complexities, their ability to absorb a large amount of impersonal information, and their quick and decisive judgments. They are "take charge" people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENTJs are very career-focused, and fit into the corporate world quite naturally. They are constantly scanning their environment for potential problems which they can turn into solutions. They generally see things from a long-range perspective, and are usually successful at identifying plans to turn problems around - especially problems of a corporate nature. ENTJs are usually successful in the business world, because they are so driven to leadership. They're tireless in their efforts on the job, and driven to visualize where an organization is headed. For these reasons, they are natural corporate leaders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENTJs love to interact with people. As Extroverts, they're energized and stimulated primarily externally. There's nothing more enjoyable and satisfying to the ENTJ than having a lively, challenging conversation. They especially respect people who are able to stand up to the ENTJ, and argue persuasively for their point of view. There aren't too many people who will do so, however, because the ENTJ is a very forceful and dynamic presence who has a tremendous amount of self-confidence and excellent verbal communication skills. Even the most confident individuals may experience moments of self-doubt when debating a point with an ENTJ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENTJs want their home to be beautiful, well-furnished, and efficiently run. They're likely to place much emphasis on their children being well-educated and structured, to desire a congenial and devoted relationship with their spouse. At home, the ENTJ needs to be in charge as much as he or she does in their career. The ENTJ is likely best paired with someone who has a strong self-image, who is also a Thinking type. Because the ENTJ is primarily focused on their careers, some ENTJs have a problem with being constantly absent from home, physically or mentally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENTJs enjoy an active and diverse lifestyle. They are likely to be in extracurricular activities and often function as the team captain, the president, or the leader. They pursue leadership roles very directly and have difficulty following others unless those individuals demonstrate more competence than they themselves have. Even then, it may be tough for the ENTJ to follow long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the ENTJ, love needs to fit into the overall picture and may become subservient to their larger goals. Love is always within the context of what the relationship is. One ENTJ stated, "I don't allow love to course freely through my body. God forbid that it should control me rather than I control it!" Love means a match between the ENTJ's needs and what the partner provides. The loved one is, in a sense, an extension of the ENTJ's vision, preferably acting in a supportive, not competing, role. ENTJs tend to make rigorous demands of love. While they may fall in love easily, they maintain that love only if the other person is willing to accept the ENTJ's directness and need for independence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENTJs expect to have their needs met in relationships, while maintaining their independence. When the partner can no longer do that, it is logical for them to sever ties and to move on. However, when ENTJs are scorned by others, they may feel a passionate devastation and a strong sense of loss that is seldom shared with others. However, this sense of loss and gloom generally lasts only a short period before they are ready to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is decisive, fearless, planner, thrill seeker, engaged, social, self centered, comfortable around others, image conscious, likes to be center of attention, adventurous, outgoing, manipulative, emotionally stable, leader, ambitious, hard working, dominant, prepared, hates to be bored, confident, opinionated, analytical, prepares for worst case scenarios, organized, orderly, clean, driven, resourceful, finishes most things they start, achieving, risk taker, desires fame/acclaim, image focused, narcissistic, arrogant, perfectionist, driven, academic, scientific, critical, avoids giving in to others, does not like to compromise, skeptical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENTJs are natural born leaders. They live in a world of possibilities where they see all sorts challenges to be surmounted, and they want to be the ones responsible for surmounting them. They have a drive for leadership, which is well-served by their quickness to grasp complexities, their ability to absorb a large amount of impersonal information, and their quick and decisive judgments. They are "take charge" people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-4236390358890661183?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/4236390358890661183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=4236390358890661183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4236390358890661183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/4236390358890661183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-entj.html' title='I&apos;m an ENTJ'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-1491398409481906763</id><published>2007-10-18T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T07:42:06.011-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Special Delivery.</title><content type='html'>Okay, I am aware that I did not blog last night. But, I am blogging now. I'll write two blogs today. Last night I went to a hospital in Dickson to see my RA's sister's baby get delivered. It was kind of like a television sitcom. We got the call at O'Charley's and then we all packed ourselves in her car and drove off. We had so much fun in the hospital. Me and one of my friends we're scoping out hot doctors, chugging energy drinks from the machine, exploring the hospital, and riding in wheel chairs. We ended up leaving before the baby was ready to go because we had class. I would have taken a picture of that baby if I could have and said, "Sorry, my sister had a baby. So, I couldn't make it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-1491398409481906763?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/1491398409481906763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=1491398409481906763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1491398409481906763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/1491398409481906763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/special-delivery.html' title='Special Delivery.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7404686758236013851</id><published>2007-10-12T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T16:56:51.139-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='espnu apsu govs governors jacksonville state gamecocks'/><title type='text'>APSU on ESPNU</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ban.umd.edu/images/espnu.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.ban.umd.edu/images/espnu.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night was crazy. I'm sorry that I didn't have a blog up. My computer froze and I did not feel like re-writing. Our school had a football came that was on ESPNU. We lost, but the real action was not video taped. There was an altercation between a student and an older non-trad who was probably 40. It went from the non-trad wanting to sit down and this guys feet being in the way, to the non-trad being an ass and calling him a "redneck". Not to mention, the agriculture fraternity was sitting behind him. It blew up. Next thing you know everyone is staring at this guy, half are booing and yelling obscenities. It lasted a few minutes, this guy became the half-time show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I think I was on ESPN. The first time I was behind the Sigma Chi flag, then I got part of my hand and an AP Peay Pride flag in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7404686758236013851?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7404686758236013851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7404686758236013851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7404686758236013851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7404686758236013851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/apsu-on-espnu.html' title='APSU on ESPNU'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7632689751400998402</id><published>2007-10-10T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T19:24:24.356-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='biology blind date conversational suggestions'/><title type='text'>biology and blind date suggestions</title><content type='html'>My brain is feeling a little dead right now. I can't even remember what I was doing this time yesterday. Midterms are killing me. I've spent every break from class/meetings studying. I think I did okay on my Biology test, but I don't feel that strongly about it. I have nothing right now, so I'll give an even biggger excerpt out of my &lt;em&gt;I Like You &lt;/em&gt;book:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blind Date Conversational Suggestions&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask hard questions or questions&lt;br /&gt;that involve a lot of thinking, such as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Does the sun make noise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Do you tip a cobbler?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*How do you teach hope?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When can we see eachother again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't Assume Things&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Where did you go to high school?&lt;br /&gt; (Maybe he didn't.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*What does your father do?&lt;br /&gt; (Maybe his was murdered.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Who did you vote for?&lt;br /&gt; (Don't assume he's allowed to.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*What do you think about my hospitality&lt;br /&gt;  book? (Don't assume he can read.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Other Don'ts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't tell everything about yourself,&lt;br /&gt; save it for your gynecologist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*If you are drunk, don't call him&lt;br /&gt; after he leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't dress too young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't act too self-sufficient, you'll&lt;br /&gt; drive him away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't answer the door in a wedding&lt;br /&gt; dress and veil, he might not think&lt;br /&gt; you're joking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Be ready when your date arrives; don't&lt;br /&gt; pick that time to hop in the shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Don't be a jabber jaw. You learn&lt;br /&gt; more by listening than by talking.&lt;br /&gt; (However, if your date is a poor story-&lt;br /&gt; teller, it's best to sit there silent.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Remember...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Shower perks you up.&lt;br /&gt;*Bath relaxes you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7632689751400998402?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7632689751400998402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7632689751400998402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7632689751400998402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7632689751400998402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/biology-and-blind-date-suggestions.html' title='biology and blind date suggestions'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7897978859425424837</id><published>2007-10-09T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:49:07.654-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pedophilia photosynthesis blog college life old young biology exam mitosis gonads no golfing i like you amy sedaris rocks shop talk'/><title type='text'>Photosynthesis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RwxZWZ1vBxI/AAAAAAAAACE/qUWJ_A3FrkE/s1600-h/m_13ee17bbce28638d465f70943fcc19f6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RwxZWZ1vBxI/AAAAAAAAACE/qUWJ_A3FrkE/s200/m_13ee17bbce28638d465f70943fcc19f6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119565117841671954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I spent the majority of the day studying for my biology exam tomorrow. I'm a little nervous about it. I keep reading the note cards and I don't really comprehend anything but photosynthesis, reproduction, and some aspects of mitosis. I know mitosis has to do with chromosomes creating daughter cells in the ovaries and gonads. I still don't fully comprehend cellular respiration. Enough of this Biology crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excerpt from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Like You&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shop Talk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Don't buy fish on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* If you do not work 9 to 5, go shopping 9 to 5. The Same&lt;br /&gt;applies to laundry, be considerate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* When ordering in a deli, announce loudly how many items&lt;br /&gt;you'll be ordering so customers behind you know what to expect&lt;br /&gt;and won't be irritated. The same applies to chocolate shops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Government checks are issued on the 1st and the 15th,&lt;br /&gt;which means crowds of families on these dates. Keep that&lt;br /&gt;in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Don't shop from someone else's food cart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Notice in local health food stores how unhealthy the&lt;br /&gt;people tend to look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* And notice in heliolithic stores that when you throw out&lt;br /&gt;"thanks" they hear that and respond sincerely, so if you say&lt;br /&gt;"thank you," mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Cashiers will notice patterns like ice cream at midnight three&lt;br /&gt;days in a row. The same true for liquor. Rotate your stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* If you genuinely see something you can compliment your&lt;br /&gt;cashier on, do it. It'll make their day. Conversely, if you&lt;br /&gt;want to destroy their day, ask to see the manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Remember, grocery store butchers always tuck the fat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7897978859425424837?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7897978859425424837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7897978859425424837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7897978859425424837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7897978859425424837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/pedophilia-and-photosynthesis.html' title='Photosynthesis'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RwxZWZ1vBxI/AAAAAAAAACE/qUWJ_A3FrkE/s72-c/m_13ee17bbce28638d465f70943fcc19f6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-7896433561042424171</id><published>2007-10-08T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:49:07.864-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pavlov&apos;s law  hooters  sean lennon hall and oates neil young playlist'/><title type='text'>I'll just sit tight, through the shadows of the night.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RwsLpJ1vBwI/AAAAAAAAAB8/S3BYGhZpqgY/s1600-h/n1511700020_30022753_9940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119198203080541954" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RwsLpJ1vBwI/AAAAAAAAAB8/S3BYGhZpqgY/s200/n1511700020_30022753_9940.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay guys, I know it's late. But I still made it before midnight.&lt;br /&gt;I don't care about anything right now, so here is a playlist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playlist I:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. "Part One of the Cowboy Trilogy" Sean Lennon&lt;br /&gt;2. "Heart of Gold" Neil Young&lt;br /&gt;3. "I Can't Go for That" Hall &amp;amp; Oates&lt;br /&gt;                                                   4. "Tom Sawyer" Rush&lt;br /&gt;                                                   5. "Just Like Heaven" The Cure&lt;br /&gt;                                                   6. "Telephone Line" ELO&lt;br /&gt;                                                   7. "Thirteen" Elliott Smith&lt;br /&gt;                                                   8. "Does He Love You?" Rilo Kiley&lt;br /&gt;                                                   9. "Children of the Revolution" T Rex&lt;br /&gt;                                                 10. "White Houses" Vanessa Carlton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Does the name Pavlov ring a bell?" -Hooter's wetnap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-7896433561042424171?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/7896433561042424171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=7896433561042424171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7896433561042424171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/7896433561042424171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/ill-just-sit-tight-through-shadows-of.html' title='I&apos;ll just sit tight, through the shadows of the night.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/RwsLpJ1vBwI/AAAAAAAAAB8/S3BYGhZpqgY/s72-c/n1511700020_30022753_9940.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806620027378326939.post-2567963294054946971</id><published>2007-10-05T18:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:49:08.083-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a paing a day duane keiser blog every day student life college love relationships'/><title type='text'>A Blog A Day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/Rwb0G51vBlI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yZi9NaNufBY/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118046425995740754" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/Rwb0G51vBlI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yZi9NaNufBY/s320/blog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;From this day forward I promise to write a blog everyday. Even if there isn't much to write about. I want to do something everyday other that eating or sleeping. I want to have the need to write. Even if it is garbage or nonsense. Someone might be interested. I talked to Duane Keiser this morning who did "A Painting A Day" for about a year and a half. It was something he needed to do. Like eating. I need something to do too. That is writing. I should probably just stay away from the news writing world. That wasn't good. My life really isn't too fascinating. Even though, these years are supposed to be "the best years" of my life. I do admit that college has been way better than high school. I didn't do anything in high school. I think that's part of the reason why I'm doing things now. It also gives me pride in my school. I used to not care. But, now I want to make sure our football team is winning and that the students are happy. Right now, I'm at the point where I want a relationship. I didn't have a high school sweetheart, go to prom, or meet someone in school yet. I mean I have met people and I have dated. But, none of them made me want to stay. I've been notorious for dumping every guy after 2 weeks. Well, one cheated. But still. I would like to break the cycle and know what it is like to have a real relationship with someone. I met one person and we had an amazing kiss, but he decided to get a girlfriend the day after. What the hell? Then another guy I liked asked me out, stood me up, and didn't call me back. That was ridiculous. I hope things get better. I used the bathroom in the library and there were all these different explanations of what love is. I've never been in love, so I had nothing to write. I just read them. What I learned was... you cannot have love without trust. Love is real. Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is a lot of things. I hope they don't ever paint over it and it becomes a mural. I really need to find something to do tonight. I like how I am slowly pouring my soul into this blog. I hope I can do this everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806620027378326939-2567963294054946971?l=elizabethboom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/feeds/2567963294054946971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806620027378326939&amp;postID=2567963294054946971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2567963294054946971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806620027378326939/posts/default/2567963294054946971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethboom.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-day.html' title='A Blog A Day.'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13755514090138174268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/SVRfFDLrvNI/AAAAAAAAAKY/tOoTo_X3U8I/S220/l_8d872704388f1bdaff1711001be0b4da.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I6BrUrbIj2M/Rwb0G51vBlI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yZi9NaNufBY/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
